A.N. I'm back! Sorry for the delay folks, but working full time has severely cut into my writing time. I think I'm going to start trying to have an update schedule to make it easier on myself. I'll likely upload on Sundays starting next Sunday, so be on the lookout for those more regular updates. As always, your support means the absolute world to me and I am so happy to receive any and all feedback!
As always, a special thanks to everyone who reviewed chapter 16! It means the world to me!
Time seemed to pass at a crawling pace after that sweaty August day at Sirius's flat. Hermione never spoke of what had happened between her and the animagus that day, not even to Remus (although the werewolf's observational eyes seemed to cast a knowing look at her when she walked back through the doors of her home with eyes puffed and red from tears).
The crispness of fall followed swiftly the sweltering heat of the summer and she had nothing to show for her three months in the past but Ravenclaw's lost diadem that she had retrieved during a visit to Hogwarts. The stone walls of the castle looked so familiar to her that an ache formed in her chest. A tightness like that of a rope wrapped around her lungs kept her from taking a full breath. Everywhere she turned, she saw Harry and his permanently messy hair. Now that she had met his father, it made her smile sadly.
James was…well he wasn't Harry. Harry had spent his whole adolescents craving his father…his parents, the part of himself he had never known but Hermione was shocked to see how different the men were. Not in their character of course, James and Harry were both kind and despite James's past as a bully, she knew that his heart was good.
Getting to know James had been too hard at first, reminding her every moment of the boy she had lost. But this man was not his son. He was a creature of his own, and she didn't know how to separate them.
Until the day that James Potter proved to Hermione that he was her friend.
Hermione couldn't figure it out at first, how James had even found out about her birthday. She was invited to dinner at the Potter's Cottage, not unusual on its own, but this was a Friday night and most of their dinners happened on Mondays.
Remus seemed on edge prior to the meal, and Hermione found herself wondering why.
~ September 21, 1979 ~
"Why are you being so jittery? It's not the full moon for another…" Hermione paused, doing some mental math. This was going to be Remus's second month on Wolfsbane, and she panicked for a moment that perhaps they hadn't started the doses at the right time. Remus clearly saw the frenzy behind her soft brown eyes and he placed his large palm on the top of her head.
"Not the moon Wells. Perhaps I've had too much tea. Sirius invited me over this morning and he can't make a cuppa worth a damn." The smile on the werewolf's face didn't reach his ears, but Hermione couldn't help but laugh at his statement. Sirius was rather helpless at making tea; Lily had nearly gagged on hers last time they'd been together.
The walk up to the Potter's house was beautiful in this beginning stages of fall. Trees were thriving in the more temperate climate of the September air and Hermione wondered if this is what the house looked like the night James and Lily died. Shaking the thought from her head, she walked up the cobblestone path. It had rained recently, and Hermione walked quickly to avoid getting mud on her denims.
Her hand paused on the doorknocker, halting herself and feeling Remus stumble into her, having not anticipated her stopping. "Do you think he'll…" Hermione didn't finish her question; she didn't have to. Peter had been the elephant in the room between her and Remus since The Incident. Remus had wanted nothing more than to tear the man limb from limb, but Hermione knew that if they unveiled the fact he was a spy that Voldemort would close ranks.
"He'll be here. James always makes sure he's invited to these things." The venom in Remus's voice still surprised Hermione, as the man she knew was gentle, kind and intelligent. She had to remind herself once more that this Remus did not have the wisdom and temperament built up through a decade of melancholy and loneliness.
"These things? It's just dinner Remus." Hermione rolled her eyes at her friend's exaggeration and finally lifted the brass knocker and tapped it against the door. Lily was the one to answer them, wearing a particularly pretty blouse and her signature bell bottom denims. Her long red hair was pulled back for once instead of hanging around her face, and Hermione noticed a new perfume when she leaned in to give the woman a hug.
"Lily Potter is that lipstick?!" Hermione noticed, pulling away from the woman just enough to see her face more clearly. Suspicion began to form in the back of her mind, and she silently reassured herself that she had her wand in a hidden pocket in the sleeve of her jumper.
"So what if it is? I can be girly when there's not a ball on you know." Lily stuck her tongue out at the curly haired-witch standing in her entrance hall and the two women burst into bubbly laughter a moment later. Remus, who was standing behind Hermione with the chill of the wind pushing against his back, cleared his throat so that he could move forward and close the door.
"Come along Hermione. There's something I have to show you in the living room." Hermione, who had taken off her cloak while Remus and Lily said their hellos, hung it on the hooks on the wall and followed the ginger witch as she pulled Hermione's arm. The house was dark, but she was familiar enough with its outline by now that she felt along the wall for the switch.
Just as the light switched on, Hermione was greeted by a loud chorus of voices yelling out Surprise!
Her wand was out of her sleeve and in front of her before she could place any of the faces, and her chest tightened as her fight or flight instincts from the war kicked in. Breathing became labored as the blood rushing from her heart pounded in her ears. James was the first one to react, as everyone reeled from the unexpected reaction. Placing his hand over Hermione's outstretched wand arm, he looked her straight in the eye.
"You're alright. You're safe. We didn't mean to panic you Hermione. It's alright. You're among friends." Slowly, after he repeated those phrases a few times, the pounding in Hermione's ears lessened. Taking breaths so deep they burned her lungs, she lowered her wand.
"I'm sorry James…I…" Hermione seemed at a loss for words, and her chest still hurt from the erratic rhythm her breathing had taken during her brief panic.
"No worries. It was a bit barmy of us to throw a surprise party when there's a war on, but a little birdy told me we'd missed your birthday and I couldn't live with myself if we didn't celebrate." James maintained his easy smile throughout their exchange, something even Lily had let falter.
"My birthday?" Hermione asked in a daze. Had she forgotten it? What age would she even be? Was the younger version even born? Or the original version? Or was she the original? Her head began to pound from the confusion, and she was once again pulled out of it by James Potter.
"Of course your birthday. You only turn 19 once!" Hermione could feel her lips pull into a small smile. That wasn't necessarily true. She'd turn 19 twice…and 20, 21, 22, 23, and 24 for those matters. Remus, who was the only person present who knew of her origins, shot her a coy smile and placed his arm around her shoulders.
"Sorry for the mystery love, but James here would've given it away within a moment. I hope you are surprised." When he pulled her into a hug, she could feel his neck lower against hers. His hot breath radiated onto her ear as he whispered to her, "If you need an excuse to leave, start talking about the weather."
Hermione could feel a current of relief course through her knowing she had a way out, and she nodded her head very lightly. When she separated from Remus, she took stock of the guests at the party where she apparently served as the guest of honor. Alice and Frank Longbottom were the first to greet her after that.
"Happy Birthday Hermione! You, me and Lils need to have a girls' night soon. I love Frank, but if I have to spend one more Friday night at home I'll scream." Alice was bubbly in her joke, and she whacked her husband's chest lightly, causing him to pretend to be grievously wounded.
"I can't remember the last time I had a girls' night." Hermione lamented aloud, and it was true. She had been so tied up in her research and building her time turner that for the last five years she had barely seen her friends. Luna's hen do was probably the last time Hermione had spent time with more than one female friend for any considerable length of time.
"That's settled then. Lils!" Before Hermione could comment further, Alice in her determined glory was racing towards the kitchen in search of their red-headed host. All she could do was shake her head in laughing disapproval as Frank kissed her cheek and in turn gave her his best wishes for her birthday.
Shortly after Frank left her to chase down his wife, Hermione was given a hug by a woman she had only met twice. Mary MacDonald was exactly the kind of sickly-sweet person that Hermione found incredibly draining to converse with and she quickly ran away to fetch herself a drink to avoid any prolonged conversation with the bubbling optimist. All that woman ever wanted to do was gossip and Hermione didn't have time for the frivolity of it all.
Next followed Peter, who Hermione ran into while retrieving a bottle of butterbeer and somehow managed to not grimace at too much. Remus, whose eyes were tinted gold in what Hermione knew was a protective instinct from the wolf, stole her away after a few minutes of pretending to care about Peter's life story.
"Thank you for getting me out of there. I think I would have just hexed him into the void if I had to hear one more word about how well his mother's rutabagas are turning out this year." It wasn't enough for the man to be a traitor, no he had to be boring to boot.
"It's no problem. Although I believe we did agree that when the time comes I will be the first one to get a shot at him." The timbre of his voice was nearly a growl as he spoke, and Hermione shivered from fear. Remus was so gentle with those he cared about but he could be downright terrifying if you got on his bad side.
Hermione, now free from both traitors and gossips, ran a calculation in her head…James, Lily, Remus, Alice, Frank, Mary, Peter, Moody had even sent a patronus with a grumpy well-wish. The Auror was incredibly suspicious of Hermione, but he was incredibly suspicious of most people, so she didn't worry too much about it.
There was however, one glaring hole in the midst of the celebrations.
"He's not coming is he?" Hermione resigned to herself, speaking the words solemnly into the air as she clutched at the steaming cuppa Remus had just handed her. The werewolf froze uncomfortably and brought his right arm behind his head.
"No. No he's not." Sirius had been avoiding Hermione since The Incident. She was certain at first that it was a good thing; so she didn't have to be reminded of the way his lips had tasted, or the way his touch had burned her. Then time passed and she had to acknowledge that she missed the man. It had been three weeks and she had only seen him in passing on occasion.
"Maybe if you just told me what happened…" Remus began, only to cut himself off at the shake of Hermione's head. She wasn't ready to talk about it…not with anyone, even Remus.
How do you even begin that conversation? I snogged Sirius and then erased his memory because I think I might be in love with him? No. There was nothing she could do but hope that one day the animagus would understand why she had to hurt him…why she had to put her own happiness as her last priority.
"Quite the weather we're having…isn't it Remus?" She was nearly choking on her breath by the time she arrived at his name, and a gargled sob sat in her throat. Without saying anything, the werewolf grabbed the mug from her hand and placed it in the sink. Leaving for a moment, Hermione could hear him making apologies to James and Lily nearby. She shouldn't have left, that was the whole point of erasing herself from Sirius's memory…so that he wouldn't distract her, and yet somehow the absence of him was more distracting than his presence had ever been.
Fall had come even faster after Hermione's surprise birthday party, and soon it was time for Lucius Malfoy's birthday gala. Jolene, the name Hermione went by in the pureblood circles, had been quite a hit at Narcissa Malfoy's birthday, and Regulus was informed in no uncertain terms that he was to bring her to Lucius's party as well.
Her anxiety about returning to the Manor seemed to worsen as they got closer to the event, and Regulus finally broke one day after she had messed up the new dance he was teaching her for a fifth time.
"You're distracted. What's going on? We have four days before Malfoy's gala, you can't be making these silly mistakes." His voice was angry, but there was no edge to it. Hermione could've sworn she almost heard concern in his tone.
Hermione opened her mouth to respond but found herself stumbling over the words. It wasn't one single thing. Her torture in that house at the hands of a woman she knew would be there, Dolohov's threat, the pressure of knowing that the fate of the Wizarding World relied on her convincing Lucius Malfoy to betray his father…betray Voldemort, to help her. It was all becoming too much. And then there was the added stress of wishing that her handsome dance partner was an older and slightly more disheveled version.
"I'll do better. Let's try again." He clearly wanted to push the subject, but nevertheless, he placed his hand on her waist and they prepared to do the waltz again. These damn purebloods and their antiquated traditions, Hermione cursed in her mind. When she missed her cue once again for the small lift half-way through, Regulus nearly shoved her away.
"Whatever is going on affects more than just you Granger! My life is on the line. Shove your pride and just tell me what's bloody going on!" It was the first time since they'd met that Regulus had raised his voice at her, and she flinched away from him. He was right, of course he was right. He couldn't afford for her to be distracted…Lily and James couldn't afford for her to be distracted, yet here she was imagining how Sirius's hands would feel if they were the ones around her waist. Finding her way back to setee across from the desk she had made her own in another time, she realized that she owed him an explanation.
"I didn't…" Hermione took a deep breath. "Dolohov suspects me. He…" She closed her eyes, forcing back the memory of his vile breath against her neck. "When I was 16, he cursed me. Something dark. If my friends hadn't been there I…." Hermione trailed off, not letting herself dwell in the horror. Death had been so close to her in that moment, and she could still feel its remnants in her bones, in her scar.
Regulus was next to her then, faster than she thought possible. Just in time too as she broke down. She always felt silly to be crying, when the world was plagued by evil and people died every day. Even during the war when she, Harry and Ron had been on the run, she had always felt guilty for letting her body manifest her stress. Even in her distress though, she noticed that the hesitance of his touch was gone. His arms wrapped around her and he began to stroke her hair without a second thought about her blood status.
"I'm so sorry Hermione. That you had to fight in this war." Regulus's voice was next to her ear, but it was muffled as he spoke through her hair. "I promise Dolohov will never touch you again." There was a firmness to his voice, followed by a growling anger that shocked her for a moment. It was the most he had ever reminded her of Sirius and she felt her heart tighten as she longed for the man she had forced to forget her.
What happened next was a blur. Regulus's lips met hers and for a moment she was so stunned she couldn't react. His lips were soft and warm, but they were wrong. Wrong in a way that taunted her. He didn't burn her the way Sirius had.
Raising her hands to his chest, she pushed against him, breaking away. Standing so quickly her blood rushed to her face, she backed up several paces.
"Regulus…" She didn't know what to say. This had not been a situation she had prepared for. Nothing in the world could have prepared her for the Black brothers. Staring at the face of the man she had pushed away, she saw clearly for the first time the broken and desperate man behind the mask. Regulus was so small in that moment, and when she reached out to him, she nearly took back her hand. "Please look at me. I didn't mean to lead you on…or give you the wrong idea." Her mission was to save Harry. There was no time for anything else, not when there was so much work to be done.
"And what exactly is the right idea? What is the idea that I should have? You come into my life with your talk of a dismal future where I'm dead and you enchant me with your fucking hair that smells like fresh strawberries somehow and your giant brown eyes. What else was I supposed to do? You are everything I've ever been taught to hate and now…"
"Now what?" Hermione asked, the words sticking in her throat as she said it. He never responded, snapping his jaw shut with an audible click. "I'm sorry Reg, I really am, but I came to the past for one reason. Until I am certain that Harry Potter grows up safe and loved, there is nothing else that matters…no one else that matters."
Regulus stood then, slowly and deliberately. Grey eyes refused to meet hers, and he walked to the door, holding it open.
"I think you should go." Tears threatened on the edge of the tall man's eyes and Hermione wondered how she had managed to muck this all up.
"Reg…" She began, but she was cut off by Regulus.
"Get. Out." It was biting and fierce, and for a moment Hermione worried that he might raise his wand to her. Even if she had wanted to stay, the wards would obey him. She was not welcome anymore, and the house could feel it.
She walked, step by step towards where the mahogany door was open in front of her and attempted one more look at the man she had trusted to help her in this fight.
"I need you Reg. I need you to win this fight, but if I have to do this without you…I will." It wasn't a threat or a warning, it was just a fact. Hermione would not let anything – or anyone – get in the way of what she had to do. If there was any response on Regulus's part, she did not hear or see it as she walked out of Grimmauld Place and out onto the streets of London.