I'm back. :) I took the idea for this story from a contest on HPFF, but as I wrote for the contest I realized I want this story to go in a slightly different direction than most time turner Hermione/Sirius stories did - hopefully I can accomplish this. This is the prologue, but I have the next few chapters written. All I need to do is edit them and upload them, so expect an update within a week. I appreciate any feedback you would like to give me. I'm working on my writing (I'm young, let's not kid ourselves), so any reviews would be helpful. As with my past stories (which have been deleted, but I will probably go back to rewriting them one day), I want to see where the reviewers want this story to go.
I hope you enjoy this.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related characters. I merely own the words on this page and a dog who now comes when I cry "Accio dog!" Great success, I say.
Sirius stared at her, willing himself to make any noise possible. The courage and words were not there, so he instead chose to remain sitting in the large, fraying, deep jade armchair.
He had hoped he was not allowing his eyes to play tricks upon him again. She seemed real, and she seemed to know more than she had the day before. Perhaps she had just come from the time within which Sirius held some of his best memories. Perhaps she also knew now all of the great memories they had created together. Sirius could only hope. Hope had been the only thing to keep Sirius alive and strong enough during his years at Azkaban.
The way she looked at him now, he was certain she knew. She held a deep understanding and far greater pity in her eyes than she had previously.
"Hermione," he managed to choke out.
Hermione merely continued to stare at him, unable to move from in front of the grand fireplace that Number 12, Grimmauld Place possessed.
Sirius had almost given up hope, convinced that he was simply growing too old and too anxious for her to finally know what they had once shared—what they could hopefully one day share again. The Time Turner she held around her neck, though, convinced him of what he had anticipated for years.
Shock and realization rang upon his face, changing his expression from that of drear and withering emotions to something far greater and more powerful. It was a face that Hermione had grown accustom to as they spent many days together when he was simply known as a Marauder.
Sirius pushed himself up from the chair and took a step toward her. He could not figure out why she was not saying anything. Why couldn't she just sayone thing to him? That was all he needed. He just needed confirmation that his years waiting for her were finally over.
"Hermione," he attempted again. They kept eye contact for what seemed like centuries. The tension was building, with each person wondering what the correct move to make was.
Another step in her direction and Sirius could smell her. It was amazing what scents did to him. His amazing ability to pick up on the most discrete of smells (he blamed the furry creature within him) often brought him to different memories. He could associate a scent with almost every deep memory he held, and the aromas Hermione was giving off sent Sirius back to his glory days. He remembered every moment they had shared together.
He took two more strides and was standing directly in front of her, ready to show her that he had been waiting for her. His hand found her cheek, gently stroking it down to her jaw line, silently pleading for her to acknowledge him. He needed verbal confirmation that she was ready for what they could have once again.
"Sirius," she whispered, dropping eye contact.
A huge, lopsided grin spread across his face. He was certain that she knew.
Sirius continued to run his fingers along her face, relishing in the contact that their skin connected provided. He was old, tired, and far beyond the years of his prime, but he was still the same, daring wizard he once was. He would show Hermione this, and he was certain they could continue with the passion they had not too long ago.
"Sirius," she continued again, finally receiving the courage again to look him in the eyes. "I know."
The smile on his face grew even larger as he finally let out a cry of elation. He grabbed her roughly around the waist, twirling her around in a tight embrace.
"But I can't do this," she whispered against his ear as he continued to hold her.
Time froze for him as he felt a delicate tear fall against his shoulder.
Six months earlier
"Oh, come on, Ron! You've got to be excited for Christmas!" Hermione exclaimed, bounding after Ron down the staircase of Number 12, Grimmauld Place.
Ron guffawed. "I absolutely am not. 'Mione, you get presents for Christmas from your family."
"Honestly, Ronald, stop being so daft. So do you," she threw back at him.
"Yeah, but I get Skiving Snackboxes from Fred and George. There's a huge difference!"
Ron finally reached the end of the stairs and made a quick turn to head towards the kitchen. His pace sped up in his final attempt to get rid of Hermione and her incessant badgering.
"They're not that bad. Last year they gave me a rather nice Spell-Checking Quill," Hermione continued, completely oblivious to her friend's unwillingness to talk. Her own pace soon quickened to match his as she followed him into the kitchen.
"Do you remember what they got me, Hermione?" he shot, giving a quick glance back to her. She shook her head. "U-No-Poo," he shuddered out, clearly remembering the horrible memories he had with it the previous year.
Hermione herself stopped short of the kitchen, thinking of the gift he had endured. She could still remember the poster she had seen for the candy: "WHY ARE YOU WORRYING ABOUT YOU-KNOW-WHO? YOU SHOULD BE WORRYING ABOUT U-NO-POO. THE CONSTIPATION SENSATION THAT'S GRIPPING THE NATION!"
"Right then," she said, finally giving in to what Ron had been saying.
She continued on to the kitchen, slightly pushing open the door while simultaneously running into a rather hard body.
Hermione's hand instinctively came up to rub her head where she had been hurt. "Ouch," she mumbled out, eyes squeezed shut in a defensive manner.
"Sorry, Hermione," the owner of the hard body said in a suave tone. "I didn't see you there."
She finally looked up to see whom she had hit. She smiled a half smile, giving him the best she could do considering the pounding currently enveloping her head—man, he had a chest of stone.
"Now what were you talking about, Ron?" Fred began from the kitchen table. It seemed everyone had decided that Christmas was to be spent at Sirius's house as people surrounded the table and took up its every inch. Of course, Sirius didn't mind. No, rather it was nice for him to have company and distractions around him.
"You didn't like our gift last year?" George continued.
"We're heartbroken. We really thought about that one for a while," the twins said together.
"Perhaps you'd like something more… heart-warming, if you will?" Fred picked up.
"A nice love potion, then? Snape—" Professor Snape, Hermione mumbled under her breath. A loud throat was cleared next to Hermione. "Snape," George continued on, "is looking rather lonely lately. Perhaps you could be the one to bring a little fancy to his life?"
"Er," Ron hesitated, still standing rather close to the door. He walked to grab himself a cup of coffee. "That's nice and all, but I thought this year we could… focus on family. No gifts, we can just spend some time together."
Everyone, who now totaled Remus, Mr and Mrs. Weasley, Sirius, Hermione, Harry, Fred, George, and Ginny, looked up at Ron in disbelief. He took a nonchalant sip of his coffee and avoided all forms of eye contact.
A loud cry of happiness was heard. "Oh, Ronald! That's beautiful!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, loudly pushing out her chair and running to embrace her son. Sirius took the "beautiful" moment to steal the now-empty chair.
A smile of satisfaction filled up Ron's face. "Bloody brilliant," he murmured to himself, clearly impressed with his own excuse as he turned to Harry to confirm his accomplishment.
"Right, well then," Sirius filled, taking the now awkward and slightly unbelievable moment and turning it around. "I think that love potion idea is perfect, and a fantastic idea at that. Have you started to make them for your shop?"
"Oh, yeah," Fred answered quickly, clearly impressed with his own invention. "They're a huge sell."
Sirius nodded, appearing to soak in all of the information put in front of him. "Right, and are they permanent?"
"Nah, too many lawsuits with that one," George answered not quite as enthusiastically. "Right now they work for around twenty-four hours, give-or-take."
Sirius nodded again, taking a slow, drawn-out sip of his coffee.
"Well, I don't think it's a surprise to anyone that I think it's horrible that you sell them," Hermione finally voiced her opinion, surprising most of the people in the room as they had forgotten she was there.
"You're worse than our mum," the twins said exasperatedly.
"And why don't you like it, Hermione? After all, it is just a bit of fun," Sirius attempted to stand up for the twins, oozing nonchalance out of every pore and crevice of his body.
Hermione rolled her eyes, moving over near Ron to grab her own cup of coffee. "It's horrendous that you play such cruel tricks upon people. Clearly they make utter fools of themselves when they're under the influence of a love potion and can't help it."
Sirius smirked. "It sounds like you've been on the receiving end of a love potion, Hermione."
Harry and Ron both chuckled, remembering the fond memories of Hermione chasing after one of the first year Gryffindors who had spiked Hermione's goblet of juice in the Great Hall. Her displays of affection were far from quiet as she stalked the first year with songs and roses to an extent that made him completely regret the action.
"That is far from the point," Hermione stuttered, obviously getting both angry and annoyed as she took a sip from her fresh cup of coffee.
"Well," Sirius said, leaning back in his chair with such suaveness that nearly every woman in the room swooned, "I must say that I wish I could have seen that. Or maybe I should just pour some love potion in your drink one day. It would be awfully fun to watch you chase after me. Better watch out." He finished his spiel with a wink in her direction before letting all four of the legs of his chair fall to the ground with a large thud. Simultaneously, she dropped her cup of coffee, scared of what could possibly be in it, and—frankly—unwilling to have a repeat of her previous experience with love potions.
Remus cleared his throat, sending a pointed look to Sirius before offering to help clean up the spilled mess.
Sirius's eyes never left Hermione, and hers never left his.
"I can't take it anymore," Sirius bellowed, throwing a lamp at his bedroom wall as he watched it spring apart in hundreds of pieces.
Remus cast a silencing charm on the room so as not to draw attention to the commotion going on inside.
"Sirius," he said in the calmest voice he could muster, "you're going to have to. You've waited this long, you can hold out for a little while longer. It won't be long now. She's finally twenty, she should be leaving any day now—just keep watching her and observing her. The change will literally be instantaneous."
Sirius took calming breaths, willing himself to stop destroying every material belonging he could grab in his room.
"I'm just not sure how much longer I can stand watching her be oblivious to my feelings and what we once had," Sirius sighed, finally collapsing to the ground on all fours. "Everyday I get older and grow more tired. What if she doesn't want me when she realizes how much I've changed in Azkaban?"
Remus finally felt the insecurities his old friend held. "You haven't changed that much, old friend. You're still snarky as anything and quick to join in a prank. And the heart that you had? The heart that you gave to Hermione? It's still completely there—I see it whenever you look at her. You haven't changed that much, Sirius. I just wish you could see it."
Remus finally turned to leave the room while taking the silencing charm off of it.
"You really think so?" Sirius asked in a self-confident way. His eyes couldn't even lift off of the ground to look at his friend; he was ashamed of the man he now was.
Remus looked at his defeated friend. "I absolutely know so."
Finally, Sirius gathered the strength to raise his head and look Remus in the eye. "You always were the smart one," he attempted at a joke and a smile.
Remus gave him a genuine smile back. "There's no denying that one." Remus reached the door to Sirius's room so as to give Sirius the alone time he needed. As he opened the door, he ran into Hermione who was walking past the door on her journey to her room.
She stopped to smile at Remus before she looked past him and noticed Sirius on the floor. Her look displayed the worry she so obviously felt for her best friend's godfather.
"He will be fine, Hermione," Remus assured her as he closed the door to Sirius's bedroom. "Right now he just misses a part of his past."
She accepted the answer with a clear display of pity for the old man and continued on her way.
And there you have it. Hopefully you like where the story is going so far! Any reviews would be phenomenal and would help me ace my finals. (I haven't quite figured out how, but I'm certain they would. Perhaps sheer happiness? Anywho, they're appreciated.) The next chapter is considerably longer.