Chapter Six
After resting for a few more hours, Hermione requested Gideon guide her to the kitchen in order to find real food. When she arrived, she was happily surprised to find a plate of pasta in the refrigerator, covered in clear wrap that had a post-it with her name written on it stuck to the top.
"Who cooked this?" she asked the AI, casting a warming charm on the plate before digging in. Not the best use of magic and certainly not what the spell was intended for, but it did its job.
"Mr. Snart and Mr. Jackson prepared tonight's meal, and Mr. Snart ensured that there was a plate set aside for you."
Hermione paused for a moment, before slowly continuing to eat.
Of course, Leonard had been the one to save her something to eat. Just like he had been the one to carry her to bed last night and left her water and snacks to eat when she woke up. Despite the fact that it had technically not been him who had kissed her at Savage's house, he was still taking care of her and she wasn't sure why.
It was one thing to be interested in her, but this was a bit much. They barely knew one another. And yet, if their positions had been reversed, she would have done the same for him. Hermione wasn't foolish enough to think that they genuinely cared for one another after so short a time, but it was clear that something was forming between them.
And she didn't know about Leonard, but it had been a long time since she'd actually been interested in someone else.
She wasn't the pure, Gryffindor Princess that her peers had deemed her as by any stretch, but Hermione also didn't do relationships. In her more maudlin moments, she thought that she might just not be capable of that kind of attachment. That her past experiences had twisted her around until she frayed and snapped. Because she had tried and it had never worked and she knew that she was the problem. Hermione was the thing that was wrong, not them. Not the ones she'd loved but never actually allowed to love her back.
Leonard was different though. Leonard was…
If Hermione had to pick a description of what she was feeling, then it would be that Leonard was final. There would be no going back or dancing around between them. If they were in, then they were in. Once she was caught, she was caught. And being caught was the one thing Hermione avoided happening at all costs.
Once she'd cleared her plate, Hermione rinsed off the dish and placed it into the half-full dishwasher before wandering back out into the hall. As she debated between going back to her room to read or bugging Rip for assistance with finding a place her to set up her potion station, Mick and Leonard's voices caught her attention.
Her feet carried her towards them, and she stopped just outside the doorway with a sign next to it stating that it was the Jumpship. Hesitating for a moment, Hermione instinctively cast a Disillusionment charm on herself and snuck in after them, right before the door slid shut.
Staring around the small cabin, Hermione spotted Jax sitting in the pilot's seat with a small tablet in his hand.
"How'd you know so much about it?" Leonard was asking the younger man.
"Little thing called an instruction manual," he answered, holding up the device.
Leonard sank down into the seat behind him. "Did you read the part about how to fly this thing?"
Jax frowned, glancing between the two criminals. "Maybe…" he slowly answered. "Why?"
"We're going to take a little sojourn to Central City," Leonard told him as Mick also took a seat. "There's a priceless jewel there that needs to be freed from captivity."
Hermione frowned. While she of all people understood the need to steal shiny objects whenever the opportunity arose, was now really the time to do so?
Jax seemed to agree with her confusion. "You want me to help you steal something? Nah, man. I'll pass."
Mick grinned as Leonard responded, "Not exactly asking, Jax."
The blank expression on his face told Hermione just how serious he was about doing this, and she realized that this was about more than just some jewel. There was something else going on here, something important to Leonard, and she wanted to know what.
"Wow. Carter nearly died, Hermione almost killed herself trying to save him, and Vandal Savage is still alive and out there doing God knows what, and all you think about is stealing some diamond?"
"It's an emerald," Leonard corrected him.
Jax scoffed in disgust. "Is there anything you think about other than yourself?"
"Yes," he answered flatly. "Money."
Jax stood and turned to fully face Mick and Leonard. "Nah. I'm not helping you guys steal anything. So, if you want to shoot me, then shoot me."
Mick shot to his feet, hand already moving to pull out his gun, and Hermione raised her wand. If he even tried to fire his weapon, she was going to knock him out and then force Leonard to tell her what in Merlin's name was going on.
Leonard straightened up and held out a hand to stop Mick. "You got a pair on you, kid. I respect that."
"So, no shooting," Mick sighed, sitting back down.
"Look," Leonard continued, voice turning soft and persuasive. "You don't actually have to help us steal anything. We just need to get to Central City. We'll be there and back before anyone knows we're even gone."
Jax glowered at him for a moment and then his shoulders slumped slightly, and he glanced back at the ship's control panel. "Look man, even if I wanted to help, and I'm not saying that I do, this thing's got a security lockout. We need an access key."
Reaching into his pocket, Leonard pulled out a tiny black box with a plug on one end. "You can't tell me you're not curious to see what this baby can do."
After a few seconds, Jax smirked and plucked the key from his hand. "Alright. Let's do this."
Hermione couldn't believe that he just gave into peer pressure like that.
As Jax started up the ship and Leonard and Mick settled back into their prospective seats, Hermione stowed away her wand and chose the single seat furthest away from the men. The last thing she needed was for one of them to bump into her before she got the chance to figure out what was really going on.
Hermione stayed on the ship while Leonard and Mick broke into the museum. The less she moved, the more likely she was to remain unnoticed for the entirety of this adventure.
She was still trying to puzzle out Leonard's motives for traveling to Central City for an emerald. Even without knowing the specific jewel, Hermione was sure that there were many other pieces all over Europe that would be worth more than whatever was being shown at a tiny museum in the middle of America.
"That's what I call a clean heist," Mick loudly proclaimed as he stepped back into the Jumpship and sat down in the seat near where Hermione was standing.
"And thanks for not setting the museum on fire, partner," Leonard smirked, climbing in behind him. "And you," he directed to Jax, "thanks for being our getaway driver."
Jax rolled his eyes. "Speaking of, let's get the hell back to the ship."
"Oh, one more stop," Leonard told him, holding up a finger.
"What're you talking about, boss?" Mick asked, confused. Clearly Leonard hadn't told him about this part of the plan before they'd left.
"1629 Handley Avenue," he recited.
"What's on Handley Avenue?" Jax asked.
"It's where he grew up," Mick answered, turning away from Leonard and glaring at the floor. "That's why you wanted to steal the Maximillian Emerald."
"Mick, enough," Leonard warned, but his partner ignored him.
"You wanted to give it to your old man so he wouldn't go to jail trying to steal it for himself."
Hermione stopped breathing.
Oh. This was unexpected.
She was right- this was a personal mission. But in a way that was far more intimate than she'd anticipated.
"Your father was a thief too?" Jax scoffed, and Leonard turned to glare at him.
"And unfortunately, not a very good one."
"Didn't Rip say something about not messing with the timeline?" Mick reminded him.
"You could accidentally blink yourself out of existence," Jax warned. "You're screwing with history here, man."
Leonard glared at Jax, and Hermione knew that his mind was made up. Whatever this was about was important enough to Leonard that he was willing to risk everything in order to make it happen.
"Yeah, well, history screwed with me first."
She knew what it was like, feeling that level of desperation. A willingness to risk everything in the hopes that doing so would change everything, because the idea of not risking it felt so unfathomable. Giving in hadn't ended well for her. It hadn't helped her- it hadn't changed anything. But Hermione knew that she couldn't stop Leonard, all she could do was wait and see how this played out for him.
The house they stopped in front of seemed normal. A little run down, but still a nice eggshell-blue color with a large stone porch. Hermione couldn't help staring at it intently, wondering what had happened within those walls to make Leonard the man he was.
Silently following him off the ship and up the walkway, Hermione slipped after him into the house.
It seemed nice enough, though all the furnishings appeared rather old and cheap. Leonard walked past a table covered in beer bottles and cards and through a narrow hallway into the kitchen. Hermione noted numerous bottles laying on the counters and had the sinking realization that at least one of Leonard's parents was most likely an alcoholic, probably his father. No wonder the man wasn't a good thief.
Leonard reached out, hand hovering over one of the bottles, before he flinched away and tucked his hand close to his chest.
Hermione shouldn't have followed him. This wasn't just dishonest- it was an actual violation of Leonard's privacy. If the situation was reversed, she wasn't sure she'd be able to forgive him.
He ducked out of the kitchen and into a sitting room, where he paused to examine a table covered in crayons, books, and various other toys. His attention seemed to be focused on a brown teddy bear.
Did it belong to younger-Leonard? Hermione wondered. Was it a treasured piece of his childhood, or a tragic reminder of it?
"I came down for a glass of water." Both Hermione and Leonard jumped, spinning around to see a young boy in dinosaur pajamas standing behind them, clutching an empty glass to his chest.
She couldn't keep herself from inhaling sharply and quickly checked to see if Leonard had heard her. He was staring at his younger self and it was Hermione's turn to flinch at the pain she could see in his eyes. His mouth parted slightly, but he said nothing.
"I'm Leo," the little boy said, fingering his cup. "Are you friends with my daddy?"
"Kind of," Leonard whispered.
"I think my daddy's sleeping," he told him.
Leonard slowly walked over to his younger self, kneeling down in front of him and forcing a smile onto his face. "Can I tell you something, Leo?" he asked, voice gruff. "It's important."
Hermione drifted over to them as Leo nodded, the inexplicable need to see Leonard's face overcoming her.
"Don't ever let anyone hurt you," he told his younger self, eyes bright and pained. "Ever. Not here," he pointed to his forehead. "And especially not here," he reached out and gently touched the younger boy's chest, right above his heart. "No matter what, you always have to look out for yourself. Okay? You understand?"
"I think so," Leo nodded.
The sound of a gun being cocked echoed through the room and Hermione found herself automatically moving to shield Leonard from the man pointing a pistol at the back of his head. If he pulled the trigger, she was the one who would be getting hit.
"You get the hell away from my boy, you son of a bitch," the man spat, and Hermione's eyes widened.
This was Leonard's father?
While they had similar facial structures, Leonard's were sharper, and his jawline and cheekbones were more defined. And their eyes were so different. When she looked into Leonard's eyes, they were always so piercing and focused. This man's were wide and wild, automatically putting her on edge.
"Why don't you go on up to bed?" she heard Leonard telling Leo. Once the soft patter of footsteps disappeared, she sensed Leonard rising to his feet and reluctantly moved aside. Now that he was standing, his height made her a rather ineffectual shield. That, and he was much more likely to notice her if she continued standing so closely to him.
"Talk fast," his father warned, "or you take a bullet. What are you doing in my home?"
"A favor," Leonard promptly answered, reaching towards his pocket. "For you."
"Watch it," the other man warned, finger tightening on the trigger. Hermione had a spell waiting on the tip of her tongue should it seem like he was going to pull it.
Leonard pulled out a fist-sized emerald. "Relax."
His father's eyes went wide. "How the hell did you get-"
"Two days from now, you try to steal this, and you get arrested," Leonard interrupted. "And you spend five years in Iron Heights."
"What are you talking about?"
"Cut the crap," he sneered. "We both know if I go down to the basement right now, I'll find floor plans for the Central City museum. Let's just say I've saved you the trouble. And from being arrested." Leonard slammed the emerald down onto the table next to him.
"How do you know all this?" the other man asked, lowering his gun.
Leonard stalked towards him, stopping when he was only a foot away. "The same way I'll know if you even think of raising a hand to your wife and son. I know the man you become. And it's all I can do to keep from ending you right here, right now. But if I do, that means my sister's never born, so you get a pass." And then he turned, striding back towards the front door.
Hermione hurried after him, rapidly trying to process everything that she'd just witnessed. Tiny Leo, with his dinosaur pajamas and large, trusting blue eyes, was going to be abused by his father for years. And Leonard, who chose to leave his abuser standing in order to ensure that his baby sister will still be born. She wondered what happened to their mother. Did their father do something to her? Did she leave?
Mick and Jax were waiting outside the house, leaning up against an old red car. "Looks like you didn't write yourself out of the timeline," Mick commented.
"Looks like," Leonard snapped.
"But?" Jax asked, taking in the look of anger on his face.
"I don't know," Leonard muttered. "I just thought maybe things would feel differently."
"The Englishman says it takes time for time to change," Mick reminded him.
Jax straightened up. "What were you trying to change?"
Leonard glanced back at the house. "My father was never father of the year, but at least he never raised a hand to any of us."
"Until he went to prison," Jax finished. "And now he won't."
Hermione wished she had his level of optimism.
"Let's get out of here," Leonard told them, gesturing for them to lead the way.
Once the other two men were a few feet ahead, his hand shot out and clamped down on Hermione's arm. "I know you're there," he hissed.
"Clearly," she automatically replied, and instantly regretted her tone. What right did she have to sound annoyed with Leonard? Hermione was clearly the monster in this situation.
His fingers flexed against her, digging into her forearm before he abruptly let go. As he started to turn away, Hermione reached out and grabbed his wrist. "Wait," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
He froze in place for a moment, face tilted away from her, before he shook her off and stalked back to the ship.
Following on his heels, Hermione wondered how on Earth she was going to be able to fix this.
They were halfway back to the Waverider when a call came to the Jumpship.
"Jefferson?" Martin called. "Jefferson, where are you?"
Hermione watched Jax's shoulders hunch as he said, "Well, it's not a short story."
"There's no time!" the Professor interjected. "Gideon will upload the coordinates you need to get to the Greyhill Building. Rip and Sara are in danger. Ray, Carter, Kendra, and I will meet you there."
"What about Hermione?" Mick asked.
Hermione winced, catching the way Leonard eyed where she was still-invisibly sitting. With a sigh, she finally removed the charm she'd cast and watched as Mick jumped at her abrupt appearance.
"We're on our way, Professor," Leonard answered, glaring at Hermione.
"Have you been there the whole time?" Jax demanded, turning in his seat.
"Yes," she sighed.
"And you didn't say anything?" Mick demanded, glancing at his partner.
"Why would she do that when instead she could just sneak around spying on people?" Leonard sneered.
"Well, I was curious as to why you were sneaking off the ship. And what was so important about a simple emerald." It was a rather weak defense, and she knew it, but Hermione also knew that they had more important things to worry about.
What exactly had Rip and Sara been up to? And why were they stupid enough to not inform the rest of the team about it?
The scene they walked into was one of total chaos.
They'd flown to the Greyhill Building and raced down into the basement. Leonard and Mick put on their goggles and readied their weapons before throwing open the tall double-doors they'd stopped in front of.
"Let's get this party started," Mick shouted, striding into the room.
"Here's our invitation," Leonard continued, shooting at a guard and sending him tumbling to the ground with a chest full of ice.
Jax and Hermione followed after them at a slightly slower speed.
"Well," she started, and took in the dim red light that was the only illumination in a room full of historical tables and candelabras. "This lighting was certainly an interesting choice, wasn't it?"
"You gonna be okay?" Jax asked, glancing at Hermione as she pulled something out of her pocket. "You said earlier that you needed to hold off on doing magic."
"Oh, don't worry about me," she answered cheerfully, flicking her wrist and fully extending her retractable bow staff. "I'll be just fine."
With that, she was off, heading straight for the large, ornate alter in the center of the room that was covered in hieroglyphs. Several men in red cloaks stepped into her path and were struck down with ease, her staff flying through the air and slamming into heads and necks with killing precision.
"You came!" she heard Rip shouting, and she glanced over to see Mick untying him before handing him his gun.
"We're a team!" Jax hollered back. "Next time, remember that."
Hermione watched as Savage straightened up from behind the table, eyes filled with rage.
"ENOUGH!" he shouted, lifting up the Amun dagger.
A buzz filled the room and Hermione's eyes widened with alarm.
"Get down!" she shouted, just before a blue light erupted from the blade.
The rest of the team hit the floor in order to avoid the crackling beam of light while Hermione remained standing, unafraid.
"Hermione!" Sara shouted, voice filled with alarm.
Just as the blue beam hit her, a golden dome enveloped the witch. When Savage ended his spell, the light surrounding Hermione finally faded, and revealed to the team that she was completely unharmed.
Her companions jumped back to their feet and resumed fighting, each slowly picking their way toward Savage.
Hermione scanned the room, trying to anticipate what path would get her to the immortal quickest, and what his response might be. In the end, she decided that direct was always better.
Racing for the immortal, Hermione used her staff as a pole and vaulted herself over the alter, and landed directly in front of Savage, effectively blocking his path. "Sorry we're late," she taunted, swinging her staff at his neck. "We just weren't sure if we could fit your little get-together into our very busy schedule."
Savage ducked the blow, laughing. "I have missed you, Sahira."
"Now, now," she chided, and dipped back to avoid the flash of his blade. "It's only been a day. Don't be so needy."
Jumping away from her, Savage lifted the blade into the air and then slammed the hilt of it into the floor, sending a shockwave through the room and everyone- including Hermione this time- to the floor.
Hermione scrambled for her staff, but Savage's foot appeared in her line of sight before she could grab it. He kicked her in the chest, sending her sailing several feet back and slamming her against a wall.
"Hermione!" she heard Rip shouting as she desperately tried to regain her breath.
A hand wrapped around her throat, fingernails digging into her neck, and lifted her into the air to face Savage. This close, she could clearly see the red line of unhealed tissue that her future-self had gifted the immortal the night before.
"What's wrong, Sahira?" he purred, tightening his grip. "You seem a little out of sorts."
Pushing through her body's automatic panic response from having her airflow cut off, Hermione was easily able to summon her dagger and speared it up and into Savage's side.
He hissed and loosened his grip, dropping Hermione back onto her feet. But before she could make another move, he reached out and grabbed her. Strong arms wrapped around her torso, crushing her arms into her sides, and spinning her around so her back slammed against his chest.
"I do enjoy your fire," he murmured, digging his chin into the top of her head. "But unfortunately, I'm going to have to cut our time a little short this evening."
Something dug into her side and Hermione glanced down, eyes widening in alarm at the sight of Amun dagger being pressed against her. Her uniform was built to be impenetrable to most blades but considering the power behind that particular one, she couldn't be sure that her suit would hold.
Her choices were rather limited due to how little she could move her arms. She was too short to headbutt him- a fact she deeply resented- and she couldn't move her hand high enough to wrap around the wrist holding her dagger, which decreased the likelihood of her escaping his grip unscathed once she elbowed him in the gut as close to the wound she'd inflicted as she could get.
"I'll be honest with you, Vandal. When I'm in this position, my opponent generally does not have a knife. Could I interest you in the possibility of you dropping the blade and we resume fighting hand to hand like civilized people?"
"Tempting. But, as I told you, we're running short on time. Unfortunately, we will just have to see if fate will allow us to meet again in the near future."
The amusement in his tone made Hermione think that he somehow knew they would, which was a very unpleasant thought.
Glancing up, she locked eyes with Rip, who was standing right in Savage's blind spot and slowly raising his gun. When he saw her looking at him, he nodded.
"In my experience, placing your life in fate's hands is just asking for trouble." Wait for the right moment…
The doors flew open again and Ray, Carter, and Kendra came sailing into the room.
Hermione jammed her elbow into Savage's side while simultaneously stomping the heel of her boot on top of his foot, then going limp in his hold.
Fortunately, the pain made him loosen his grip enough for her to move her hand to his wrist and drag it away from her abdomen. The fact that Rip also took the opportunity to start shooting at him probably helped with that.
Unfortunately, Hermione wasn't able to pull it far enough away that the dagger didn't cut into her on the way down. And while her suit did block some of the damage, she could still feel the tip of it tearing into her flesh.
It hurt. It hurt a lot more than it should.
The bastard had coated the blade with something.
"Hermione!"
Thin arms were wrapping themselves around her waist and hauling her away.
"I've got you!" Kendra tried to reassure her, pulling her away from the fight beginning between Carter, Rip, and Savage. "You're going to be okay. It's going to be okay."
Adjusting herself in Kendra's hold so that they were putting less pressure on her side, Hermione gasped, "Down, Kendra. I need to heal myself. You have to put me down."
"Can't it wait till we're back on the ship?"
"Savage coated the blade with some kind of poison," she rasped, beginning to tremble as the substance made its way through her veins. "I won't make it to the ship."
"Oh, god," Kendra hissed, bringing them to stop and lowering Hermione onto the ground. "What do I do? What do you need?"
"What's going on?" she heard Ray demand as reached into the pocket of her uniform and began digging around.
"Savage coated the dagger in poison. She's dying."
Her fingers closed around the bezoar and she clumsily dragged it out.
"Then shouldn't we get her back to the ship?" Jax demanded. "Maybe the Medbay will be have an antidote or something."
She watched with horror as the bezoar slipped out of her grasp and fell to the floor.
If Hermione died in the 70s, she was going to spend the next decades haunting every single person in Britain who caused her life to be a living hell when she was younger, starting with James Potter because he just had to procreate. Because some days she didn't know if she loved Harry or if she hated him, but what she did know is that life would have been different without him.
Nimble fingers reached out and picked the bezoar off of the floor. Leonard knelt down next to Hermione and tilted her head up high enough that he could slip the bezoar between her lips.
"Hope you need to swallow this, because I don't know what you'd do with it otherwise."
As soon as the stone slipped down her throat, Hermione felt her vision begin to clear and her breathing grew steadier.
Glancing up at Leonard, Hermione whispered, "Thank you."
He nodded but said nothing.
"What was that?" Kendra asked, watching with wide eyes as Hermione straightened up and summoned her wand in order to heal the still-bleeding wound in her side.
"A bezoar. In its natural state, it's a magical antidote to most known poisons. I've also enhanced all of mine to include antidotes to the few other poisons they don't inherently protect against."
With a few simple movements, Hermione closed the knife wound and was back on her feet. When she checked to see how the others were doing, she saw Sara repeatedly hitting a man in a suit while Carter was helping Rip up off the floor.
And Savage was gone.
"Leonard, wait," Hermione called, chasing him down the hall.
She hadn't come up with anything to say during the tense ride back to the Waverider, but Hermione was used to playing things by ear.
He ignored her, turning to step into his room. Before he could close the door on her, Hermione slipped in behind him.
"I'm sorry," she told him, wanting to at least tell him that if she wasn't able to say anything else.
"For what?" Leonard asked, turning to look at her. His expression was normal, but his eyes were ice cold. He'd never looked at her that way before and Hermione instantly hated it.
"For following you. For intruding in what was clearly a personal moment. It wasn't fair, and it wasn't right, and it wasn't something I would normally ever do."
She knew what he was going to ask her next, and he failed to disappoint.
"Then why did you?"
Hermione bit the inside of her bottom lip, glancing away. She'd watched him in a truly vulnerable moment because she curious. And because she felt bitter at what his future self was going to do. Especially since, logically speaking, Leonard wouldn't have done that just because he could. He always had a reason. And because… because she wanted him. She wanted him, and she didn't know why, and she knew better than to do that.
But at the moment, the Leonard of here and now was waiting for her answer and he deserved honesty. "I was angry. Something happened back at Savage's house and I felt… out of control. I felt vulnerable and I hated it. And I knew that you wanted to go to that museum for a reason and that there was something more going on. Something private. I wanted… I wanted-"
"To make me feel as bad as you felt," Leonard finished.
"No," Hermione snapped. "I just wanted to feel in control. Knowledge is my crutch and right now I feel like I know nothing. I'm facing an opponent I know nothing about. I'm working with a team of complete strangers and am having to trust that you'll all have my back. There is a reason I work alone, Leonard.
"People let you down. They're not there when you need them the most. They're unreliable and selfish and when they fail you- and they always fail you- you're left losing more than you're willing to pay."
The more emotional Hermione became, the more Leonard's eyes warmed. "You don't trust us."
Hermione inhaled shakily. "Trusting you means letting you in. And I don't let people in."
"You're worried… You have confidence but you're not arrogant."
As she stared into Leonard's eyes, all Hermione could think was, I don't let people in, Leonard. So why did I let you?
After a long moment, Leonard sighed. "We're not so different, you and me. While I have worked with teams before, I always made sure that I knew everything I could about my group. That way I could always anticipate what they were going to do even before they'd decided. This whole thing- working with a team of heroes to save the world- isn't really my thing. But I never leave a job unfinished, so we're going to have to past this."
"And how do you propose we do that?" Hermione asked.
Leonard smirked, though she could tell he was still angry with her. "Quid pro quo."
Hermione sighed. "In that case, ask away."
Taking a step closer to her, Leonard reached out and gently took her wrist. "There's something carved into your skin," he murmured. "Only caught a glimpse of it, but it looks like a word. What happened?"
It felt like time stood still for a moment, and not in a good way. Despite the years that had passed since it happened- years spent healing and rebuilding and strengthening in mind, body, and soul- Hermione's stomach rolled as the panic starting coursing through her veins. "I was captured. I was tortured. I escaped."
His hand tightened around her wrist, stopping just shy of being painful. "Who?" he hissed.
She grimaced, eyes tight and hard. "Does it matter? She's dead, and I'm not."
How many years? How many years had Hermione endured people brushing aside what she'd suffered simply because she was still breathing? The war was over, the monster slain, and she still had a pulse- that meant that everything was fine. She needed to stop dwelling on the past and be thankful for the life ahead of her. As though Hermione should be grateful for surviving a trauma that should never have occurred in the first place.
Harry got a scar on his forehead as a result of his Muggleborn mother dying to save him and it was treated like a sacred work of art. Hermione got a scar that demonstrated to the entire world just how deep Wizarding Britain's bigotry lay, and she was told that it was hideous and ugly and shameful and how dare she flaunt it and remind people of how terrible things used to be.
So, Hermione pulled out the dagger she'd taken off of Bellatrix Lestrange's corpse all those years ago and began carving into the purebloods of Wizarding Britain to warn them of just how terrible things were going to be.
And they really couldn't be angry at her, could they? After all, they were still breathing. Mostly.
Leonard's grip relaxed, slipping down over her palm and caressing her fingers, and his eyes seemed to lighten with something that almost felt like understanding. It felt like forgiveness. "If that's true, then how come it doesn't feel like winning?"
Hermione gritted her teeth. "What you said to your younger self… it's what I would have said to mine, if the situations were reversed. And I just… I hate the fact that that little boy is going to have to learn that the only person looking out for him, is himself. He doesn't deserve that. You didn't deserve that."
He tensed at her words. "Neither did you."
She stared down at their hands, gaze caught on the spot where a slur was forever marked into her flesh. "Maybe I did. Sometimes, I think I deserved exactly what I got. Because I was stupid enough to have faith, and I should have known better."
"What happened to you?" Leonard murmured, leaning in towards her.
Exhaustion made her more honest than she should be."I got caught," she whispered, closing her eyes. "I was stuck. And then I woke up. I woke up, and I realized that I was tired of being expendable. Of being an acceptable loss. And, more importantly, I was tired of being used by bigots as proof that they changed. As though failing to kill me was evidence of their goodness. They're not the reason I'm still breathing; they're the reason I can't breathe."
For a moment, it felt like she was back there- back at Ministry balls surrounded by weak-willed idiots who would have stabbed her in the back just years before but were now congratulating themselves for being such forward-thinking individuals. Back in Diagon Alley having people come up to talk to her about that 'unpleasantness' before. Back in front of a wall of names, listing the casualties from the Second Wizarding War, most of whom were Muggleborns.
She'd first tried drowning her pain in occlumency and emptiness and when that didn't work, she'd drowned it in blood and fire. That had seemed to have done the trick.
Leonard's hand on her cheek pulled her back to the present. When she met his gaze, Hermione was relieved to see that it hadn't changed; his eyes were still soft as they looked at her. He didn't say anything, just continued to quietly study her. She wondered what he saw.
"Hey."
They jerked apart, turning to stare at the doorway where Sara was standing, looking sad and tired.
"Come on," she told them once she had her attention. "We're going to say goodbye."
Rip had directed Gideon to bring them to a beautiful, empty field for Aldus' final resting place. As Hermione, Leonard, Mick, Jax, and Sara walked towards the still forms of Carter and Kendra, who were standing close together next to the carefully wrapped body of their son, Hermione wanted nothing more than to turn and walk in the opposite direction.
She'd been at enough funerals to last a lifetime, and too many of those involved parents having to endure burying their children. Hermione forced herself to keep walking though, because Aldus had died trying to help them, and Kendra and Carter deserved the chance to give their boy a proper goodbye. More importantly, the team needed to acknowledge the fact that this was a dangerous mission, that defeating Savage was certain to come at a cost to each of them.
Martin, Ray, and Rip were already standing beside Kendra by the time they reached them, so Hermione moved to stand next to Carter. They were joined by Sara and Jax with Leonard and Mick rounding off the group.
Hermione reached out and silently took Carter's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. After a long moment, he squeezed back before twisting his hand and linking their fingers together.
She wondered what it must be like to lose a child you hardly remembered.
Carter wrapped his arm around Kendra's waist and pulled her tightly into his side. The woman shifted in response so that she could rest her head on Carter's shoulder, hands clutching the small bouquet of flowers she had collected from nearby.
After a moment of silence, Rip stepped away from the group and walked around Aldus' body so he could face them.
"The other day," he started, "I tried to find some words of inspiration. Words that would restore hope to us in the wake of our trouble, but it is all of you who have inspired me. Beginning with Professor Boardman and then with almost losing Carter and Hermione, your heroism is… an inspiration to us all. And a reminder that one person acting alone can't save the world."
Once he was done speaking, the team began to walk away. Before Hermione could, Carter's grip tightened.
"I don't want to bury him," he whispered. When Hermione and Kendra both turned to look at him, he cleared his throat and explained, "I don't want to bury my son. Not here. Not like this. Not when we might leave and never come back. I don't want to leave him alone here."
Tears filled Kendra's eyes. "I don't either."
Hermione's eyes fell to the ground for a moment before she closed them, gathering her thoughts. When she opened them again, she was struck by the grief weighing heavy in Rip's gaze as he stared down at Aldus.
Tugging her hand from Carter's, Hermione moved to stand in front of the couple. "Do you trust me?" she asked them.
They glanced at each other before looking back at her and nodding.
"Close your eyes," Hermione whispered.
Their eyes fell shut, and Hermione pulled out her wand. She was definitely taking a chance, and there was a very high risk that they'd be angry with her for doing this, but she'd seen many different kinds of magical burials in her years, and this was the one she liked best. And it was the one most fitting with their sentiments.
With a wave of her wand, Aldus' body disappeared slowly and transformed into various flowers and brightly colored leaves. Another wave and a whispered incantation released her silvery fox Patronus into the air.
"Open your eyes," she told them, and they instantly did, inhaling sharply at the sight before them.
"In some magical communities, they prefer doing this over a traditional burial, because it ensures that the spirit is free from the body after death and can properly move on to the Other Side. They believe that bury the body traps the spirit." The fox trotted over to the couple and brushed up against them, and the waves of happiness it brought with it momentarily lightened the grief in their eyes.
"You should know," Hermione continued softly, "the greatest wish of any child who loses a parent is that one day they'll be reunited with them. Seeing you two again after so many years was a great comfort to Aldus, and a reunion he didn't regret. Whatever happens next, you shouldn't forget that."
Kendra let out a sob and a few tears fell down Carter's face. "Thank you," he told her gruffly.
Hermione nodded. With one last flick of her wrist, a large gust of wind blew through the clearing, carrying the leaves and flowers that were all that remained of Aldus Boardman. Kendra let go of the flowers she held, watching as they too floated out of the clearing. The fox bound through the air after them before slowly fading away.
They wouldn't have to worry about Aldus being alone again. It wasn't nearly enough to numb the pain they'd forever feel, but it was better than nothing and all that Hermione could give them.
After the wind died down, Carter and Kendra finally turned to walk back to the ship, leaving Hermione and Rip behind.
It only took a minute of silence for Rip to break. "I didn't even bury them. I just left them there."
"Once you change time, they won't be dead," Hermione told him simply. "And even if you had stayed and tried, Savage and his forces would have stopped you."
"My wife and child died because of me," he whispered, raising a hand to cover his eyes. "I should have been there."
She sighed. "Savage made his choices. You didn't make him kill them. This is not your fault, Rip. You did your best. You're still doing your best. Sometimes, that's all you can do."
Rip dropped his hand, shaking his head. "I failed them."
"In the words of Samuel Beckett, 'Try again. Fail again. Fail better.' We have failed, Rip. But I'm not done trying. Are you?"
Clenching his jaw, Rip vowed, "Never."
Rip jogged into the main cabin, Hermione following a few seconds behind him at a more sedate pace. "Gideon," he called. "Ready us for take-off."
"Whoa, are we being chased or something?" Jax asked.
"No," Rip answered. "But I imagine that right about now, the museum has realized that their prized emerald is missing."
"You want me to say I'm sorry?" Leonard sneered.
"Sorry, I don't do sorry," Mick told the Captain.
"Which is fine, Mr. Rory, because you are owed the apology," Rip sighed. "I should have told you all before that this wasn't my first attempt to vanquish Vandal Savage. But the reason I failed before-"
"Was because you didn't have all of us," Ray finished.
"Quite true," Rip agreed. "But there is no point in us continuing any further unless we are all- myself included- committed to working in concert."
"You don't ditch us, we won't ditch you," Leonard summed up. "Deal?"
Rip smiled and gave a short nod.
"Sir," Gideon interrupted. "I've completed my review of the timeline. I calculate a 98% likelihood that Savage reappears in 1986."
"Chart a course, Gideon," Rip ordered as everyone took a seat and strapped themselves in.
"Guess we're headed to the '80s," Ray muttered, sounding less than enthused by the prospect. "Better break out your parachute pants."
"What the hell are parachute pants?" Jax asked Hermione, who had slipped into the seat next to him.
"Stupid looking trousers made of uncomfortable material," she answered shortly. The events of the day were starting to catch up on her and she wished she could have found some time to herself to process everything that had happened. She also wished she'd found time to check and see how much damage had been done to her chest when Savage had kicked her. She wouldn't be able to heal any breaks until after the side-effects of the bezoar had worn off, but she could at least know what to expect. "I never had the misfortune of wearing them, but they looked highly uncomfortable."
Hermione closed her eyes and leaned her head back as the ship began to gain speed in preparation for its jump into the timestream.
"You okay?" Jax prodded, sounding concerned.
She gave a slight smile but didn't bother opening her eyes. "I'll be fine, Jax. It's just been a long day."
And Hermione had a sinking suspicion that the next few weren't going to be any better.