The moment she is hit by the curse, she knows.
She understands.
And she doesn't fight as she feels herself being flung forwards into an unfamiliar time.
Because you see, she really might have guessed this would happen.
It all makes sense now, all of those haunted looks and the conversations cut off when she entered rooms and the way Sirius's eyes grew more and more tortured every time he looked at her.
She'd passed off the haunted looks as ones typical to shell-shocked war veterans, and the conversations must have been because of Order business she wasn't allowed to hear and Sirius's expressions because she might have reminded him of Lily. 'Brightest witch of her age' and all that.
But it wasn't, was it?
The moment she opens her eyes and sees a very tired, very dead Dumbledore looking down at her, with Lily Potter and Frank Longbottom peeking over his shoulder, is when she truly knows that, no, that wasn't it at all.
She sits for several days in Headquarters, barely able to respond to anyone. It's all too much. She's been blasted back into the past, having to interact with people she knows are dead or insane or traitors, without being able to give anything away.
She doesn't feel like Hermione Granger anymore. It is strange, but she attributes it to the fact she isn't even born yet. How can she be Hermione Granger if she is yet to exist? So on top of having to pretend she knows nothing about the future, she has to find herself a new identity for herself, as well. It is enough to make anyone a hermit.
In the end, it is Lily who draws her out of her shell. She supposes it is because of the fact Lily is simultaneously so like Harry and yet so like her at the same time. Whatever the reason may be, Lily succeeds in her mission and slowly, slowly, the shell begins to fall away.
"I believe it is high time we talked," says Dumbledore, sitting across the table from her. He has already sent the others away, but she can tell that Lily is loitering by the door, with James and Sirius probably waiting with her.
She is almost worried she already knows them that well.
"I have to agree, Professor," she says, meeting his steady gaze with a stare equally heavy.
"I imagine you won't be wanting to go by your real name in this time," he says.
"No, I won't," she agrees, and thinks for a moment. She has already had a new name picked out, sort of, but she just wants to make sure she's really going to go through with it.
It's a perfect name for her. Really, it is. It shows that she is in a place she wasn't born into and didn't belong, and it also shows her off as the bookworm she is – has been – will be. But is it the right choice?
"Hermione Pevensie," she says at last.
"Ah," he says. "I seem to recall a book series with that name. One about a wardrobe, wasn't it?"
"One about a lion, actually," she corrects him. A third reason why it is a perfect name for her: it claims her for the lion's house.
"A good choice," he says, and she smiles.
"I'm bored," complains Sirius. Hermione barely looks up from her book, trying to keep her lips from twitching.
"You're always bored."
"I am not," he says indignantly. "It's just because Prongs and Lily just moved into Godric's Hollow, so I can't bother them, and Moony is out spying with the wolves, and who knows where Wormtail is." He shrugs. "You're the only one left for me to bug, and you're not being very accommodating."
"You poor man," she mocks, putting the book down. He brightens at the sight.
"Incredibly poor," he agrees. "You've never seen a man this downtrodden in your life, have you?" An image of Sirius, haggard and malnourished and just escaped from Azkaban flashes before her eyes, and she feels her chest begin to ache.
"No," she says softly, "I've never seen a man as downtrodden as you in my life, Sirius."
She picks her book back up and tries her best not to cry. She doesn't succeed. Before she could even register what he was doing, she feels Sirius's arms wrap around her shoulders and she curls into him.
He lets her cry on his shoulder, and doesn't ask why.
The day she is kidnapped by Death Eaters is the worst day of her life.
It is, surprisingly, worse than the day Bellatrix Lestrange tortured her for information then zapped her back in time before she could escape with the others. It is worse than the day she erased her parents' memories of her.
Because today, she is terribly afraid. Not just for her own life (although she is plenty scared for that, too), but more so because she knows that if she ever meets Voldemort's eyes, everything is lost. He will know about Harry and he will know about how Harry will inevitably grow up to destroy him. And he will take steps to ensure Harry will never get that chance. He will take steps to make sure Harry is never born at all.
She sits in her cell under Malfoy Manor a full day before her knights and ladies in shining armor show up.
They've already stolen back her wand by the time they find her, so she is able to hex as many Death Eaters as she can before they have to retreat.
'This is for Alice,' she thinks as she sends a body twisting charm at Barty Crouch Junior. 'And this is for Frank,' she thinks as she aims at Rodolphus Lestrange. 'And this,' she thinks savagely, 'is for Sirius,' right before she hits Bellatrix square in the chest with a Bat Boogey.
She has enough time to think that it wasn't as good as Ginny's before Sirius grabs her hand and apparates away.
"What were you goddamn thinking?" shouts Sirius back at Headquarters. "You didn't take any precautions when you went out or anything. I'm surprised you even took your wand!"
She reminds herself he was just worried. But she doesn't want to explain how easy it is to snap when cooped up in a house with people you know will die in a matter of years. How difficult it is to cope while spending time with people who will be Crucio'd to insanity. How sometimes you have to be somewhere that has people you can look at and not know exactly how they will die.
It isn't something that you can explain. Not really.
"I just needed some time out, Sirius," she says instead. "I'm sorry I scared you - "
"Scared me?" he says in disbelief. "Believe me, Hermione, this went beyond scared." And, just to prove it, he steps forward and kisses her.
There's a small part of her that doesn't know what to do. That tries to remind her of Ron, waiting back in her home time. Ron, who she'd loved.
The rest of her throws caution to the wind and kisses back with gusto.
Lily's pregnant.
Hermione spends the morning in the bathroom, pretending she isn't crying.
This is the beginning of the end.
She gets to hold baby Harry when he is born, and she cuddles him close.
"Hey, Harry," she whispers, her eyes wet. "I'm Hermione. You're not going to know me for another eleven years, but I'm your best friend." She kisses his forehead. "I miss you so damn much." Her voice shakes.
She hands him reluctantly back to his father. James looks down at him like he couldn't believe that a person could be this small. She can tell from his gaze that to him, Harry is the most fascinating creature on the face of the planet. James is going to make a bloody brilliant father. (Right up until the day he can't.)
Her smile fades a little.
Sirius proposes to her the night before the Potters go into hiding.
She says 'yes' before she can think twice, and when she looks back, the day is a golden blur of laughter and kisses and excitement.
It is that night, after Sirius has fallen asleep and she's still wide awake next to him, when she remembers the way Sirius had – is going to – someday will look at her, and the fact he never married.
Something is going to happen to her before now and the wedding, and the thought fills her with fear.
She begs Dumbledore to tell them all the truth if something happens to her.
He looks at her through his half moon glasses and asks her if she knows something he doesn't.
She longs to explain in some sort of vain hope he could find a way to save her. But she doesn't bother, because if Sirius can't escape Azkaban, she can't escape this.
He tells her quietly of his plan to switch Secret Keepers. It's just before midnight and they are still sitting at the kitchen bench of their apartment, absent mindedly snatching bits of the cake mix Hermione had planned to bake but was clearly never going to be finished.
"I'm too obvious a choice," he explains. "They'll come after me. It's the perfect bluff, see?"
She shakes her head, hoping – praying – that she can talk him out of it. "I think you're doubting yourself," she says. "You shouldn't. You're a brilliant Secret Keeper; you'll never say a word."
He agrees with her, but she can tell that the seed is already in place, and nothing she can do will prevent it from growing.
She wakes up.
Harry and Ron look down at her, worried expressions etched across their faces.
"Harry? Ron?" she asks. "What - ?"
"We're at Shell Cottage," explains Harry hastily. "Bill and Fleur's place. We're safe."
She sits up before they can tell her she should really be resting after that curse. Across the room, she can see Remus – older, sadder than he was a few days ago. Her mouth opens to ask, but her eyes must do it well enough for her, because he nods before a sound leaves her mouth.
Her stomach drops. Her heart shatters.
"Hermione? What's wrong?" asks Ron as she buries her head in her hands. Her shoulders start shaking and she feels her palms getting damp. She feels a weight settle on to the bed next to, and she leans into Remus's hug without needing to check who it is.
"I was trying to explain when she woke up," he said quietly. "The curse – it sent her back in time."
"She can't have gone back in time!" says Ron, sounding frustrated. "She was right here!"
"There's a difference between Hermione being her and her body lying here," says Remus. Hermione looks up, not bothering to wipe away her tears.
"I am twenty one years old, Ron. I am engaged to a dead man. I was there the day Harry was born and helped Lily soothe him when he cried. I live through the first war," she says, feeling so, so tired. "It seems impossible, but it is true." She retreats back into Remus's hug without another word.
She feels a hand grasp hers and squeeze comfortingly. Peeking out over Remus's shoulder, she sees Harry. Beside him, Ron still looks gobsmacked, but he pulls himself together enough to give her a comforting smile.
It's funny. With them here, she can almost pretend she isn't broken.
AN: I'm quite nervous about this, since I don't often write in this writing style, but I suppose this is what happens when you read two brilliant Hermione/Sirius time travel fics in a row.