Chapter Two: What's past is prologue
"Hermione!" Sirius croaked, sighing in relief. "Where are the others? Is Harry safe?" He was not dead, not if Hermione was here too. Hermione squinted into the dark as Sirius approached closer. She tightened her grip on her wand and moved it upwards, towards his face. A dome of light shone in his face and burned his eyes. He heard Hermione gasp.
"No." She breathed. "Who are you?"
As Sirius looked at the face staring back at him, he wondered if he'd made a terrible mistake. It had sounded like Hermione Granger, the fourteen year old he'd first met in the Shrieking Shack who'd addressed him as Mr. Black and whose cat he had befriended. But she didn't look like how Sirius remembered. It could not be more than a couple of hours since he had ran past the open door of another room in the Department of Mysteries and fleeting looked in to see her crumpled on the floor, motionless.
Perhaps she was dead, too.
"It… it…" She stuttered. "It can't be you."
"Hermione, what happened to the prophecy? Where's everyone else?" His voice cracked in panic.
"What?"
"I fell through the veil."
"I know."
She flicked her wand at him and a strange rippling sensation passed over him. "There are no enchantments." Hermione whispered to herself.
What did she mean, she knew? How could she know what had happened to him? He didn't remember her being there, she wasn't in the duel. She had been in another room. He looked at her face again. Sirius thought Hermione looked older. Her hair was tied back into a tidy bun, and she didn't look as fresh faced as he remembered. "How do you know I fell through the veil?" He asked her.
"Everyone knows what happened to you." She replied. She shook her head. "Only, you're not you, I mean, you can't be you."
"Did you fall through the veil, too?" He took a step closer, and she raised her wand again. Her face was set, her lips forming a tight line. She shook her head, as if steeling herself for something.
"Who are you?" She asked firmly, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.
She must know him. She knew what had happened to him. He paused, wondering if he should admit such a thing. He was a wanted man, and if this was not Hermione, he would reveal his secret to a stranger. The seconds lengthened, the unanswered question hanging heavy in the air.
"I first met you in the Shrieking Shack." He began carefully. He gathered up his words as if they were precious silk. He had to make her realise it was really him. "You, and Ron, and Harry. You all thought I was a dog, and none of you realised."
"Snuffles." She replied quietly.
Sirius nodded. "There was your cat, Crookshanks, Peter, Remus. And," Sirius smiled as he remembered, laughing a little to himself. "You attacked a teacher."
Hermione's eyes widened. He was sure it was her, he didn't know why she looked different, but it was definitely her. And now, she knew it was really him. "Sirius Black." She murmured. He watched as the pieces clicked together in Hermione's mind, as she worked though the information. "We never saw a body." She whispered, more to herself than to Sirius. "Where do vanished things go?" She looked at him, shone the light from her wand into his face, and reached out to touch his arm. She flinched back when she met with solid mass. Real, living mass. "You're alive?"
He laughed shakily, feeling strangely relieved. "Am I?" His words floated through the darkened hall. She turned and opened the door to her office behind her and ushered him inside.
He took no notice of the decor in the office, nor did he see the photographs of smiling children waving at him from Hermione's desk. He slouched into the sturdy wooden chair closest to the door and leaned against the arm. According to Hermione, he was alive. But he wasn't sure why she had seemed so shocked by this revelation. Hermione looked a lot better than she had done the last time Sirius had seen her, lying crumpled on the ground in the Department of Mysteries. Was there a chance they were both dead, then, and neither of them realised?
"I fell through the veil." He repeated. That was all he really knew. "One minute, I was being cursed by Bellatrix, and the next, I'm in an empty room staring up at that veil, and there's no one there anymore. I took all these different shortcuts and somehow I arrived on this floor. I thought I might have been able to find everyone else but they've all seemed to have disappeared- except you, of course. Do you know where they are?"
Hermione carried on shaking her head to herself, her eyes wide and staring. "Sirius," She spoke slowly. "You fell through the veil sixteen years ago. Sixteen years ago today."
He hadn't been expecting that. Of all the things he had considered, this had not even been in the top ten. He stared again at Hermione. He just couldn't work it out. He had last seen her a few hours ago, but she hadn't seen him for sixteen years? He opened his mouth to speak, but only silence escaped.
"I've heard rumours." Hermione continued, almost eagerly. "But I never thought they were true. When I first started at the Ministry, I said we should have the Veil destroyed. But the Unspeakables said it wasn't possible. We just couldn't get rid of it. So I started to ask questions, and the rumour was that the veil was sort of like a reverse time turner. It wouldn't send people back…it would send them forward. It's been there since before they could remember. In fact, some people think the Ministry was built around it. There's been some really powerful spells cast on it, and it became unstable and dangerous. Of course, no one ever dared test it out. So it was kept hidden in the Department of Mysteries. Until," She paused, looking away from Sirius to the ground. "Well, until you found it." She finished quietly. Sirius didn't reply; he didn't know how to.
Hermione carried on. "I suppose they were right to say we couldn't destroy it. If we had, what would have happened to you? You wouldn't have arrived here- the veil wouldn't have existed. But why now?" She asked herself.
"Where is 'here'? Where am I?" He asked meekly, sounding like a lost child waking from a dream in an unfamiliar place.
"Well, I suppose to you, it's the future." Hermione smiled timidly at him. He still couldn't adjust to her- she just didn't look like she should have. Sirius wondered if he'd aged, too. Had falling through the veil instantly aged him somehow? Did he look sixteen years older? Or did he look just the same as before- once-handsome, tired, and haunted.
So he was in the future, and he should get used to it. At least he wasn't dead. He had seen many strange things happen, and this was just the latest. He couldn't argue that it was impossible; flying on broomsticks and transforming into animals should be impossible, so nothing in the magical world was really unthinkable.
"Did you win? Did Harry beat Voldemort?"
She nodded.
"Where is he now?"
"He's an Auror, a really good one." Hermione told him, and Sirius beamed. "He's married, he's got three children. The oldest one's middle name is Sirius." Sirius was struck with pride, and he was glad that Harry was finally happy. Harry was doing alright for himself. And he'd done it all without Sirius's help. He couldn't wait to meet him again. It must be strange for Harry; it took twelve years for them to meet again, and now they'll be reunited once more after sixteen years. For Sirius, of course, it was merely a few hours ago since he last saw his Godson.
So Sirius was alive, and there seemed so much to catch up on. Sixteen years, in fact. Why was he wasting time here then?! Eagerly, Sirius asked, "Where does he live? Has he got a spare room?"
"I don't think that's a good idea, Sirius. You can't just turn up at his house. Legally, you're dead." Hermione spoke urgently. "Sirius, please, don't go searching for anyone. Not until we've worked out what to do. Not even in animagus form- they'll recognise you."
His hopes fell. As quickly as they had risen they were dashed. He wouldn't be allowed to see his Godson. "But he'd understand?" He argued. "You understand!"
Hermione replied cautiously. "Harry's been through a lot. And I don't know what he would think if you arrived on his doorstep, alive and well and ready to live in his spare room. He might start to think that other people could come back, too."
Sirius nodded solemnly. He supposed it was for the best- even if he didn't think it was. He felt like he was trapped in Grimmauld Place again, desperate to help Harry but forbidden from it. It was always 'for the best'.
"What am I supposed to do, then?" He had no friends, no family, nowhere to go.
"You need to go somewhere safe where no one will recognise you. For the time being, at least."
"Until we find out a way to sort all this out?" He asked hopefully. He didn't like where he was – he wanted to go back. Hermione scribbled a note onto a piece of parchment and opened the stained-glass window behind her. A tawny coloured owl swooped down from one of the windows high above and took the letter from her, soaring off to deliver it to its recipient.
"What am I going to do?"
"I've just owled Professor McGonagall. I've told her it's important, and to come straight away. We need to keep you safe. We'll send you to the safest place I can think of."
