Chapter 85: Saturday, October 31, 1981

"I was so determined to not lose time, that I often did the wrong thing. Not losing time has been my permanent concern...when it dawned on me that time is the warp of life, its very fabric, something that you cannot buy, trade, steal, falsify, or obtain by begging."

-Nina Berberova

Hermione sat buried around a pile of every Dark Arts book she could scrounge together. She held the gold-stone amulet in her hand, staring down at the blood coated rock with frustration. Every day for the last two weeks, she had done the ritual, and every day she had been met with a cool stone.

It hadn't warmed in her palm, as it always had.

It still shimmered with light, but nowhere near as bright as it normally did. She didn't feel the rush of magic grounding her to the timeline that she had always felt. Instead, her heart pounded in her chest as her anxiety rose.

She gave up, dropping more dittany onto her still bleeding palm and closed the book that was offering little information in the ways of Dark artifacts. Apparently there wasn't an abundance of ancient stones-turned-time-turners to gather information on. She shoved the book to the side and stood up, resolute.

She would need to go to Banchory.

Remus had told her three weeks, and she didn't have time to wait two more days for his return, if he even returned when he said he would. James had been clear that what was going to happen, would happen, and that he had no qualms with being a martyr if it meant the end of Voldemort. She had hours, if she was lucky, to find Remus and bring him back. To wait and hope and pray that James had a change of heart and had convinced Sirius to remain the Secret Keeper.

The night before, she had sent an owl to Sirius, asking him to come by in the morning. The owl had been returned, the letter still attached and Sirius had not arrived at her door. She needed him here. If James had gone through with making Peter the Secret Keeper, Sirius was in danger as well, and if she could say she had been with him, he would have an alibi.

She realized how completely intricate the entire situation was. She needed help, someone with a little more fire power than Remus and Sirius. Someone Voldemort feared, someone who could knock Remus and Sirius' heads together and tell them to stop turning on one another, that the spy was right under their nose. But, the only person who could help her unravel any of the webs that had been weaved, was sitting behind his desk in a castle in the Scottish Highlands.

As the minutes ticked by, anger festered beneath her skin, boiling hot through her blood. She slipped her ring on her finger, fastened both the locket Remus had given her and the timestone around her neck and grabbed her medical bag—just in case.

She would go to Banchory, but first, she needed to make a stop at Hogwarts.

It was raining when Hermione's feet hit the green just outside of Hogsmeade. Her trainers made a thick, squelching sound against the mud as she hurried through the town, making her way towards Honeydukes. She did not send notice that she would be coming, and knew that it was unlikely she would be able to get onto the castle grounds without being accompanied by someone. At least, that was if she entered through the gates.

She slipped inside the sweets shop and milled about, checking over her shoulder every now and again to be sure she wasn't being watched. When the old man that worked the counter stepped away to help a woman reach something from the top shelf, she ducked through the door leading into the storage rooms. With quick steps, she took the stairs into the cellar, looking around the back of the room for the trap door. She saw the handle sticking out from beneath several crates of chocolate and used her wand to move them to the side before opening the door and dropping into the passage.

The passage from Honeydukes was dark and dank—smelling of mildew and mud. Lighting the tip of her wand and taking heed to skip over the divots in the ground that would have caught her ankle in a twist years before, Hermione moved quickly through the long passage. The tunnel wound on, twisting and turning underground, causing her to crouch low. About three-quarters of the way through the tunnel, she met a wall of rubble and huffed in frustration. She pulled at the rocks, dislodging them into a cascade of pebbles and flagstone and climbed over the low formed wall, skinning her palms on the jagged edges of the stone.

When she finally emerged from behind the statue of the one-eyed witch, Hermione took a sharp left and made her way up flights of stairs, taking them two at a time. Finally, she skidded to a halt before the Gargoyle statue and whispered the password, hoping that Licorice Wand was still the right one.

She breathed a sigh of relief when the stones groaned and the Gargoyle shifted to the side, revealing the spiraling staircase that led to the Headmaster's office. Her fist hit the door before she could even catch her breath, knocking hard against the wood.

"Enter," Dumbledore said.

Hermione shoved the door open and saw Dumbledore sitting behind his desk. A strange sense of déjà vu stole her momentarily, the similarity to the last time she was in the room still fresh in her mind.

"I need to know where Remus was sent," Hermione said, sparing pleasantries.

"I'm afraid I cannot give you the exact location," Dumbeldore answered.

"Did James make Sirius the Secret Keeper?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide as she stared at him.

"Another answer I do not have for you, I'm afraid."

"You're the one who did the charm, aren't you? What do you mean—"

"I laid the groundwork for the spell, but the only person who can complete it are the people it concerns."

"But you know if they did or not?"

"I was told that it would be Sirius, so I assume that it is."

"It isn't," Hermione said. "It isn't Sirius and...fuck. They're going to die."

Dumbledore rose from his desk and pinned Hermione with a severe look, his usually sparkling eyes cold and his mouth pressed in a thin line. "Explain."

"We don't have time for this," Hermione said, pacing the office. "You need to get someone there as soon as possible. It's going to happen tonight, I don't know when, but I know it's tonight. Where is Remus?"

"If Sirius Black is the Secret Keeper then—"

"Sirius didn't become Secret Keeper, did you not hear me? He's changed it!"

"What proof do you have of this?"

"I'm from the future!" Hermione nearly shouted, "Is that not enough proof? I know what's going to happen! James...shit. I told James and he-he…"

"He agreed to do what was necessary," Dumbledore said, gravely.

"You knew he would," Hermione whispered.

"As many others in the Order would."

Hermione stopped pacing and stared at Dumbledore, her jaw set tight and her mouth pursed. He was letting them die. He was letting James sacrifice himself for the fall of Voldemort, just as he had expected Snape to die for the cause. The same way he had allowed Harry to walk to his death. Dumbledore had been setting his pawns in place for so long, he had so many people willing to lay down their lives for this. They weren't soldiers—they were barely adults and he didn't care. To him, they were pieces on a board, meant to fight and protect blindly.

But, Hermione wasn't blind. She knew what was going to happen and who would be involved. She could stop this. She had to.

"Where is Remus?" Hermione hissed.

If Dumbledore was going to stand aside and let James and Lily die in the name of his greater good, Hermione was wasting her time. Somewhere, deep down, she knew that coming here would be a mistake. But, she needed to know where Remus was at, exactly where Remus was at. However, apparently, that was information the Headmaster was unwilling to give. When he didn't answer her, Hermione yelled out in frustration and stormed from the office.

"Their blood is on your hands, Albus. Remember that." Hermione spat, slamming the door closed behind her.

The sun had set, and the autumn chill bit at Hermione's skin, a shiver tore up her spine as she made her way through the copse of trees on the outskirts of the village. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind and focus on the magic she could feel thrumming beneath her own. The back of her neck prickled and her head began to feel fuzzy. The magic tugged in her chest.

It was faint, but it was there—he had to be nearby.

She held her wand tight in her hand and pushed through the branches, scanning the area for signs of life. A few rabbits bounded across the path, running west from where she stood. "Homenum revelio," she whispered.

From her wand burst several small balls of light, zipping past her to the eastern side of the forest. Hermione turned on her heel and began running, trying to keep the light in her field of vision. It was quickly getting dark and panic began to set in. She could remember the way the front door hung on the front of James and Lily's home when she and Harry visited the monument. The scorch marks around the front door from being blasted open, the thick growth of ivy that had laid claim to the house… She swallowed back the emotion growing in her throat.

Hermione paused to collect her breath and casted a patronus. She looked to the face of her otter, "Go to Sirius. Get to my house and stay there. No matter what happens, Sirius. You have to stay in the house."

She took a deep breath and pushed on, hoping with everything in her that Sirius would listen to her and stay in her house. If he did, and she found Remus, they could stop this. They could catch Voldemort off guard and take him down before he got to James or Lily.

Hermione began making the plan in her head as she ran. Find Remus, go back to their house and get Sirius. She wasn't sure if Sirius or Remus knew the secret, if not, that would open a host of other issues. She still had the memory of the house from the time she and Harry had gone to see it, she wondered if that would be enough to apparate in. If Peter was present, she could force him to tell Sirius and Remus—she would Imperius him, if she had to. After, they would need to find a way to keep Voldemort away from the Potters and not get themselves killed in the process.

She went through every spell and curse she could think of, trying to figure out the best way to string them together as she moved deeper into the forest. The trees blocked the remaining rays of deep orange light that filtered through to the underbrush and with every passing second, she could feel her chest getting tighter. She needed a plan, needed something tangible to use. Time had never felt so real, so fragile, as it did right now.

"Remus?" Hermione yelled, leaping over a dead tree that had fallen. "Remus!"

She cast another revealing spell, half the glowing orbs going north and the other half continuing east. Fuck. Where would he go? She thought, frantically. She changed gears and began running north, propelling herself uphill, ignoring the stitch in her side that burned with every breath she took. Her throat felt raw from screaming his name, but she couldn't stop. She had to find him. They had to stop this.

In her medical bag was the potion Remus had stolen from the last pack he had gone to. She knew to ask him to take it was a horrible idea—she doubted he would agree. But, then again, to protect two of his closest friends and their son, he just might. It wasn't much, but it would work. Sirius could shift into Padfoot and direct Remus to the house, Hermione could follow them and use the distraction as her way in. She could get in and apparate them out—to Hogwarts.

She got to the top of the hill and could see smoke from a campfire billowing through the trees and she let out a small sigh of relief, pausing only a moment to catch her breath, again. As she did, a warm feeling began to encompass her. The tug in her chest pulled uncomfortably, filling her with the same sickening feeling that apparition caused. The leaves began to rustle around her, the tall grass brushing against her legs and she felt magic crackle in the air. A pressure began to build around her, the air twisting like a cyclone of static, her skin prickling against the current.

She gasped, almost dropping her wand. She had felt this before—this exact feeling. Two years ago, when she had stood outside of the Shrieking Shack and chanted a latin incantation.

"No," she whispered, the air leaving her lungs as her knees buckled from under her. "No, no, no! Remus! REMUS!"

She screamed his name over and over until she could no longer hear herself over the rushing of wind in her ears. The heat in her chest radiated through the tips of her fingers and burned like fire as it seeped from her, weaving through the air in a burst of gold light. She dug her fingers into the dirt, holding onto the crumbling Earth, as she yelled for Remus.

"No! I did the ritual, I swear, I did the ritual!" Hermione babbled, the words absorbed only by the trees and grass that surrounded her on the hilltop. "I love you, I love you, please, no. I can't leave! I can save them, I can save them!"

She pulled her hands from the dirt and pressed the tip of her wand to her palm, silently casting a slicing hex. When the blood pooled against the gash, she reached into her shirt and wrapped her hand around the stone.

"Ego offerre anima mea: dedi sanguinem meum!" She said the words repeatedly, rocking slightly back and forth.

Hermione's voice died in her throat as she let out a wracking sob. Her entire body trembled and she gulped for air, the feeling of being compressed overwhelming. She closed her eyes tight, whispering broken apologies, her hands falling back to clench into the grass.

And then it was over.

As quickly as it started, the feeling that forced every ounce of air from her lungs had stopped. She sucked in a deep breath and opened her eyes, looking around. Her wand was pinned between her palm and the mound of soil her nails had sunk into.

"Remus?" She asked, tentatively.

Hermione pulled herself to her feet and squinted into the distance. She saw no smoke in the trees. "Homenum revelio."

Nothing.

"Homenum revelio!"

Still, nothing.

No, no, no. Her hand flew to the collar of her shirt, wrapping around the two chains that held the necklace and the stone against her sternum. She yanked hard, breaking them free from her neck and she stared down at them. The gold stone was coated in crimson as her palm throbbed and bled beneath it. The weight of the jewelry in her hand became lighter and her breath shook as she watched the locket disappear—disintegrating into nothingness and the gold-stone amulet became smaller and more oval, with an H carved into the front. Her fingers fumbled with the small clasp, trying get the locket open.

"It didn't work," she sobbed. "It didn't work!"

When the latch finally gave way, a shred of parchment was wedged inside, covering the picture of herself and Remus. With shaking hands, she unfolded it.

Time doesn't work that way, I'm afraid. Take care of him for us.

.

.

a/n: *hides* don't kill me please.

but i know you wanna cuss me out, and you can do that. i love you, i promise i do.