SEVEN
JUNE 23rd, 1995
Hermione woke with a scream. Her eyes scanned the room, wand in hand, as she tried to still her racing heart. When her room turned up empty she sighed, lowering her wand. Visions of Bellatrix had woken her, and would probably keep her awake. Her pale skin stood out in the pre-dawn light streaming through the window and her brown eyes were sunken from lack of sleep. After years of adapting to her apartment in Brixton, the nightmares had slowly almost subsided. It was only the shock of seeing Dedalus Diggle again that had started them up again. It had gotten far worse the past several nights being thrown back into the Wizarding World. Still shaking, Hermione rubbed her tired eyes, knowing there wouldn't be any more sleep tonight, not after that particularly bad one. Sighing, she pulled herself from the bed, wand still in hand. Waving her wand to rid the room of silencing and locking spells, she opened the door. A loud thump caused her to yell and throw herself backward.
“Morderium!” Hermione bellowed and there was a bright yellow flash and a loud yelp.
Someone yelled, “Oh, FUCK! Hermione!”
“Sirius!” Hermione gasped and flicked her wand, lighting the room. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t, you were just-”
“It’s okay,” Sirius chuckled, “you can throw a mean hex, woman.” There was a large bite mark covering the whole of Sirius’ tattooed forearm. Hermione dropped to her knees and waved her wand over the bite. The wounds started knitted themselves together.
“What were you doing?!” Hermione demanded, continuing her work. In the light of the Lumos cast above them, Hermione saw his face flush, embarrassed. “What, Sirius?”
“I was listening,” he admitted.
“What? Why?”
Sirius sighed and said, “I just thought you might have another nightmare. I wanted to be able to help if you did.”
“Oh.” She was uncomfortable. Sirius had been sleeping outside her door, sitting up. He deserved to sleep in a bed after the years he had spent in the walls of Azkaban. “Sirius, there’s no need-”
“It makes me feel like I’m doing something, Hermione.”
“Right,” Hermione mumbled, standing. Sirius pushed himself up, stifling a groan.
“What were you doing up?” He asked, looking her up and down. Her eyes were blotchy and red around the rims. She was pale, her skin ghostly white. “Oh, Hermione,” His grey eyes crinkled in concern as they met hers. “You cast a silencing charm? To keep me out?”
“No, not to keep you out… just to not wake you,” she looked away from him. They had plagued her for the past seven years and she had dealt with it alone, and she could deal with them alone now. She told Sirius so.
“You don’t have to, though!” said Sirius loudly. “Why are you trying to hold the burden of the whole fucking world on your own, Hermione?”
“Because-”
“Because why?!”
“Sirius, listen-”
“Just fucking tell me why!”
“Because, argh, fuck!” Sirius stopped. Hermione hardly ever swore. “Because I’ve had to for the last seven fucking years, Sirius!” She screamed. Magic seemed to radiate from her. Bright red sparks flew from the end of her wand, “I have been alone! For the past seven years! I cry alone. I scream alone. I hold the burden alone!” Her hair sizzled and frizzed with energy as she yelled at him. He flinched under her blazing glare.
“Hermione-
“No! I have been completely alone for the last seven years and now suddenly I’ve been sent back to the fucking future to what? Change it? Fix it? Save everyone?” tear streaks started making their way down Hermione’s face.
Sirius took a step toward her, “You think I don’t know what it’s like to lose everyone? Do you think I don’t know what it’s like to be alone?” He gestured to his Azkaban number, peeking from under his t-shirt. “Do you think Remus doesn’t know? Come off it, we were the definition of alone. You’re here to stop this war. That won’t be your future anymore!” His face softened, “We’re going to fix it, love,” Sirius moved forward and folded her in his arms. He rested his head on the top of hers and his fingers stroked lines up and down her spine. “It’s going to be alright.” She finally relaxed in his arms, pressing her face against his chest. Sirius couldn’t help but breathe in the scent of her, the feel of her. Merlin, how he wanted to taste her too.
He was appalled at the way he was reacting to their closeness. He wanted to be her friend. He wanted to be her ally in the fight to keep Harry safe and defeat Voldemort once and for all. This was his godson’s best friend. All rationale all seemed to leave him when he was near to her. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her, ever since that first night when she matched him, shot for shot of firewhiskey. Maybe it was how alone he’d been, and he just needed company. But he couldn’t deny the smell of old books, quill ink, and fresh flowers that drew him in. Subtly, he breathed her scent in deep, burying his nose in her messy curls, relishing their closeness. She wasn’t the fifteen-year-old at Hogwarts with Harry. She was an adult, a beautiful, bright witch that had traveled in time to keep his godson safe. She intoxicated him.
“I don’t know what to do anymore.” Hermione finally sniffled, snuggling deeper into Sirius’ chest. Her voice pulled him from his daze and he swallowed forcefully.
“Hey, that’s what friends are for,” Sirius smiled at her whine and unwillingly pulled her away, holding her by the shoulders. She was messy. Snot, tears, hair sticking to her face. Sirius reached out and brushed the curls from her face, placing them behind her ears. She pouted, swiping her arm across her nose, wiping the snot on the sleeve of Sirius’ long-sleeved t-shirt. “Oi, still wearing my shirt, woman!” He snipped in mock annoyance. Hermione let out a giggle and shrugged.
“Sorry, it’s cozy,” She said and the lifted her wand, “Tempus,” she cast. It was 5:47 in the morning. “Might as well stay up, I think. We can go to bed early tonight. It will be a long day tomorrow,” She gazed at him sadly. He nodded and waved his wand. The torches and lights bloomed to life and Hermione vanished her little ball of magical light. He turned and faced away from her, taking a deep breath.
“Remus said he would stop in again today,” Sirius mentioned as they started to walk down to the kitchen.
“I was wondering… since, well, since Dumbledore has made his verdict, if you would want to hear the rest of it.”
“The rest of it?” asked Sirius.
“Yes,” Hermione whispered, “The rest of my future. Well, maybe not all of it.” A shiver ran over her as she thought of Malfoy Manor.
Sirius stopped at the last landing and looked around at her, “Really?”
“Yes. Dumbledore has made his choice. You both would have to know anyway. So, yes I want to tell you. You and Remus. If you’ll listen.”
“Well, yeah, course. Long as you’re willing to tell.” Sirius said, continuing his journey downstairs. She followed, worrying her bottom lip. She didn’t know if it was a good idea to tell Sirius anything about what the future held. Knowing of your own death probably didn’t boost morale, especially in an already emotionally repressed Sirius Black. But he did deserve to know. They both did. Hermione was determined to make sure the two of them lived much longer lives than they had in her future. Then there was Remus. Hermione knew she couldn’t tell him about Tonks, and definitely not about Teddy. Merlin, he deserved to watch his son grow up. To have his wife by his side. Hermione wanted them to trust her as much as possible. She wanted to stay in this house as long as possible. With Sirius as long as possible.
Hermione immediately started busying herself with breakfast. Instead of sitting at the table, Sirius moved to stand next to her, pulling out glasses. His arm grazed lightly against hers. Hermione’s breath shallowed as he continued to brush past her and around her as he pulled out fruit and pumpkin juice from the cupboard charmed with a Cooling Stasis spell. Hermione knew was Sirius was doing, even if he didn’t. The forced closeness of the past few days had caused a familiarity with Sirius that she hadn’t felt since Harry, Ron, and Ginny were alive. It sparked something violent in Hermione. A deep-rooted fierceness that coursed through her; the need to protect, to comfort, to be near to. It terrified her. It felt so natural to suddenly, unexpectedly love someone so much, and so quickly, but also she knew what it was like to lose those very people. If she couldn’t stop her future from happening, she would lose Sirius and Remus too. Knowing them now, seeing them full of life, she couldn't bear to lose them. There was probably no chance of her going back to her time, so there would be no chance of recconecting with her Harry, Ron, and Ginny. Sirius and Remus were all she had now, and there was no way she was going to let them go.
She moved away from Sirius and sat a stack of toast to the table. Instead of going over to Sirius and plating the eggs and sausage, she conjured them to her and they landed on two flying plates, placing themselves softly on the table. While smiling at her, Sirius moved to sit next to her.
They ate in silence, Hermione trying to look anywhere but at his grey eyes. Something about looking into them made it hard for her to contain the panic that seemed to simmer right underneath the surface. Sirius wanted nothing more than to reach across the table and bury his hands in her tangled hair and feel her lips against his.
Green flames burst into the fireplace and Remus stepped through, brushing soot off his shabby robes. Hermione jumped up and went to make the werewolf a plate of food.
“Oh, Sirius. Didn’t expect to see you awake this early,” Remus said, taking a seat and tossing the Prophet on the table.
Sirius grabbed the paper, “What rubbish did they write now?”
“Well, that Skeeter woman-”
Hermione snarled, “Fucking cow,” she dropped the plate in front of Remus and huffed, crossing her arms. Remus stared at her and Sirius let out a low chuckle and she sank into a chair.
“Guess this Hermione swears now,” Sirius told Remus, a smile on his face.
“That bitch just needs to keep her mouth shut!” Hermione insisted, glaring at the paper.
“What I was going to say,” Remus said softly, “Is that she hasn’t said anything for a while now." Hermione rolled her eyes, not untangling her arms. “Well, anyway, how are you two anyway. Tell me you didn’t drink too much last night?” Hermione blushed and glanced at the rubbish bin she had forgotten to vanish. Remus sighed and gave Sirius a scathing look.
“Not my idea!” Sirius insisted, holding up his hands, “The witch is the one that convinced me.” Hermione glared at him as he laughed. “Anyway, I think we’ll need some more because Hermione here is going to tell us her future.”
“Not one for tact, are we, Black?” Hermione groaned as Remus looked at her.
“You sure you want to do that?” asked Remus, searching her face, “We don’t need to know.”
Hermione sighed, “The future is going to be different, so I see no harm in you knowing what won’t happen.” Even as she said it, her heart started to race. “The Order of the Phoenix will get reinstated as soon as Dumbledore learns of Voldemort’s return. Grimmauld Place will be the Headquarters. Harry… Harry starts having dreams, visions of Voldemort. Mostly about the Department of Mysteries. There is the Prophecy-”
“That’s why Lily and James went into hiding,” Sirius said gruffly.
“Yes,” Hermione continued, “But Voldemort doesn’t know the whole thing. He is going to try to break into the Department of Mysteries so he can find it and know it. Only one person in this time knows the whole thing… well, two now, I suppose Albus Dumbledore, and me. The Prophecy is not important,” she added as Sirius opened his mouth to speak, “So I won’t be talking about it. But what you need to know is that Harry has visions. That night, when Lily died protecting Harry, the Killing Curse rebounded. They became connected. When Voldemort rises again, the connection will grow much stronger. Somehow Harry can see into his mind and when Voldemort figured out that Harry was in his mind, he planted a fake vision. Of…” Hermione’s chocolate eyes met grey and she frowned, “Of you, Sirius.”
“Me?” Those eyes widened, terror shining in them. “What of me?”
“Voldemort lured Harry in with a vision of you being tortured,” whispered Hermione.
“Fuck. That fucking kid!”
“He’s a lot like James, Padfoot. You can’t fault him for that,” Remus assured him.
“Yes, I can! James could be arrogant and foolish when it came to us, Moony. And it was me, I, I, it’s my-”
“Sirius stop,” Hermione put her hand on his and his shoulders relaxed as he held on to her. “It’s not your fault, it’s Voldemort’s. And it isn’t going to happen.” She smiled at him, reassuringly. “I will not let it happen.” Her voice and gaze did not waver. “I won’t.” She continued to stare at Sirius until he nodded. “So, Harry, Ron, Luna, Neville, Ginny, and I all go to the ministry. Obviously, it was a trap. We all got separated and lost in the Department of Mysteries. Ron had brain tentacles all over him, Ginny broke her ankle, I was hit with the Dolor Ignis curse.”
“And you lived?” gasped Remus.
“Dolohov was silenced when he cast it, thankfully.” At the thought, the purple scar running over her ribs seared painfully. “And then Harry and Neville were cornered in the Death Room. Then you lot showed up. Earlier that year, well, there had been a mass breakout from Azkaban.”
Sirius swore, “No,” his jaw clenched and magic sparked from the end of his wand, which was now in his hand.
“Bellatrix went after you, Sirius, and…” Hermione’s voice broke.
“The cunt killed me, didn’t she?” Sirius growled at her. Hermione glanced at Remus, who paled, his eyes flashing silver. She nodded. “Well, fuck that.”
“My sentiments exactly,” Hermione squeezed Sirius’ hand that she still held. “Fuck that. It’s not happening. None of it is happening. You, you,” Her voice faltered and she swallowed roughly. “You can’t die, Sirius. Harry barely survived after that.” I won’t survive. Sirius pulled his hand away from her and stood.
“I need…” He turned and grabbed a bottle of Firewhiskey. The door flew open with a bang and bright sparks from the tip of Sirius’ wand which caused Walburga to start screeching. Another bang and she was silent once more.
Sirius was gone, the door closing softly behind him.