Summary: Hermione overused her time turner and finds herself in a cave face to face with Sirius Black. Things go sideways now the convict has access to the brightest witch her age, a young woman prone to befriending elves and defending victims. Badass and Aged-up Hermione/Sirius.
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns the names of people, places, things, and plot events in the Harry Potter series. This is just a satire with a romantic twist.
Image Credit: Astronomer Roshaan Bukhari from Pakistan photographed the Sirius star through a 70mm telescope over a period of 2 seconds.
The Leaky Cauldron looked suspiciously the same despite 12 years having come and gone. The 14 tables just as dinged and standing in their previous locations scattered about the room. Tom the bar keep hadn't aged much, still wrinkled and happy and joking with his customers. The witches and wizards fashion remained nearly untouched. Sirius wondered if it was him who wasn't remembering. He sat himself in the corner. His eyes skirted around the premises, paranoia making him think up scattered plans to enact if the figure of his godson didn't soon come down the stairs. Harry was here right? He wasn't certain anymore, despite how he thought he followed him the entire last week of him wandering around Diagon Alley.
In moments of clarity he did recall he wasn't always this rash or foggy headed. In moments of certainty the ex-auror and transfiguration prodigy planned ahead enough to transfigure his features and follow his godson like a proper tail. Not just a mutt with a tail. However, he had spent 12 years shifting between a magical grim's form and being tortured by dementors. Their cold seeped through the nearby atmosphere and exposure to it reduced air particle density by 25%. His auror training detailed this meticulously, as guard rotations needed to know what to watch for should they be stationed at the prison. However, knowing and suffering twelve years of it were entirely different. The effects sunk deep and lingered as much as the personal nightmares the creatures induced.
It was painful enough to fracture a mind. Even now he was in the middle of London with a nicked plate of food steaming in front of him, he wasn't quite certain it was real or some horror induced wishful thinking. However, the longer he sat there as a human transfigured to look like a Malfoy cousin the more he felt it must be real.
The person he'd stolen the food from, who'd been confounded and ordered to leave their table on urgent business, had been halfway through the most recent newspaper. The Daily Prophet posted the Ministry standard warning in addition to detailing Black's troubled home life as a youth, speculation on just how deranged he was, and a warning he was possibly armed. Which he was. Sirius' eyes however kept drifting back to himself to stare at the worst picture he'd ever had taken. His mother would be furious such a bad picture was circulating the papers for the seventh day in a row.
From the pages his own true self stared up at him. His currently white hair shielded his blue transfigured eyes as he glanced at it. The moving picture showcased snarling teeth and silent shouts. A muggle video clip would have recorded a great number of things said in that moment which the current and passed administrations wouldn't have wanted aired. The Daily Prophet front page didn't show any of that, not how he screamed for a lawyer, not how he cried over how they had to find Peter, not how he begged them to talk with Dumbledore the leader of the Order and the caster of the fidelius charm placed over Potter Cottage.
"Harry!"
His head snapped up at the shout. A girl, brown curls bouncing, shot across the room and tackled the miniature James halfway up the stairs. The tight anxiety building in his chest eased. This was real.
"Oh Harry I didn't know you would be here this early. Mum and dad promised me we could get a pet at the menagerie," Her voice went on talking a mile a minute and his godson seemed as happy and content. Sirius' mind snapped back to himself when he heard the girl state, "Were they feeding you enough? You look as skinny as you did at the beginning of last year. And you have bruising on your arms. Do you need mum to look at it?"
Sirius looked at his godson's too baggy tee shirt, scuffed up pants, and the bruises which had turned green by now. His godson shrugged on a hoody. Hermione shared a worried glance with her parents.
The muggle woman ran her fingers through her daughter's equally large ringlets. So the boy leading their way to the Alley Entrance wouldn't hear the mother stated quietly, "We'll write a letter to the Weasleys and Dumbledore with our concerns."
"What if they don't do anything?"
The muggle parents frowned. Sirius was frozen to his seat. Yelling as Harry left his house, just as Sirius had been yelled out of his own childhood home. The bruises, the clothes, he hadn't been imagining them.
During Care of Magical Creatures Hermione was ecstatic to see a paddock of animals she'd only ever seen in books. When she looked into the eyes of the closest she immediately bowed keeping her neck tilted and maintaining the gaze. The hippogriff stared back.
Malfoy sneered, "Oi groveling to a bunch of creatures now Granger. Didn't think you could sink any lower."
Behind her Crabbe and Goyle snickered. Hermione remained silent in the face of the easily offended animals. She felt Ron's confusion next to her and Harry stiffen at the taunt. However, before he can say anything someone else muttered loud enough for Malfoy and hence her to hear.
"You dunce. That's a Hippogriff. If you did any less than bow it'd rip you to shreds. Or did your daddy only teach you about peacocks?"
When the Hippogriff in question actually bowed back to her Hagrid pounded her back so hard she almost fell over. He boomed, "Tha's how it's done! Wanna go fer a ride Hermione?"
Face going pale at the thought she hastened to deny the offer and smartly stepped back when he tried to push her forward anyways. Even Harry steps back when the rest of the class does not seem eager to try and the Slytherin's very true warning still ringing in their ears. Hermione wondered if she should talk with Hagrid about safety precautions after class. She didn't want her friend to lose his new job. He looked so cheerful being able to talk about the creatures he loved and from the way the Hippogriffs bowed when he stepped near and how they too tilted heads to listen to his voice, she knew the gentle half giant earned the creatures' respect as well.
However, as Hagrid moved Hermione noticed part of the Slytherin contingent scowling at their new professor. Malfoy in particular had a particular sly tilt to his face and she felt something incredibly bad coming from him. Then he was walking towards Hagrid and the Hippogriffs. So she put herself between them. She still remembered the slur he'd called her and she'd rather redirect his ire her way if it saved Hagrid. Incidentally, she also blocked his aggressive path towards the Hippogriffs. No, that wouldn't do at all. Redirection it was then.
"Muggleborn and showing you up in Creatures class, guess blood doesn't account for everything," Hermione bit the inside of her cheek. She never did do taunts. All she had to go on were what she'd observed in others and like a maths formula she slotted the correct values in the variables. It did appear successful if the way Malfoy's skin flushed told anything at all. His attention turned fully to her. Good.
"You," he snarled.
"Going to call me a mudblood again?" As he'd taken to doing in the halls where Harry or Ron couldn't hear him. Behind her the class gasped. Malfoy's still red face squished. She wanted to end this little bit of name calling before it became a trend.
"You've done it what three or four times now? Tsk, I'd have thought you'd at least be educated in biology and genetics if not creatures, what with your family so concerned with keeping its breeding traits strong, but perhaps I overestimated you."
"What's genetic?!" The toddler in boy form snarled again.
Behind her the 3 muggleborns and 7 halfblood Gryffindors laughed. Fay Dunbar in particular had a hard time catching her breath, "Oh that's priceless. They really don't know do they?"
From the sidelines Hermione saw Harry smiling at her. Besides him Ron looked fairly gleeful Malfoy had found himself at the brunt of a joke. Though he scratched his head at the mention of two major scientific fields. Hermione made a mental note to offer a book if he was interested.
When something moved her gaze flickered to the depths of the trees. Her breath caught. In the forest behind her two only friends stood a large black grim. Hermione blinked. The trees stood tall and dark around it, the mist from the lake drifting in and she wasn't sure if she truly was seeing it. The exact replica from Harry's tea cup earlier that day. Hermione's smile dimmed recalling Professor Trelawney's prediction. From the forest the grim seemed to be listening to them, but when she walked closer to Harry it backed further into the shadows till she couldn't see it anymore.
Long ago Hermione swore she'd do anything to protect her friend. He was so prone to trouble finding him since Voldemort marked him as a target. Not even his broom or favorite sport were safe if Quirrell could so easily get to it. Already two defense teachers had tried to obliviate and outright kill him. A solid specter of Tom Riddle had successfully set a basilisk on him. This all within the school while protected by some of the most powerful wizards alive. She wouldn't let it happen again. Grim and visions be damned.
She kept watching the murky darkness of the forest. She'd protect her friend, her brother.
Her use of the time turner had started to affect her. She had doubled her awake hours as McGonagall had outlined for her but the lack of sleep was getting to her. She'd even mixed up her time table, something she'd never done. It led to missing transfiguration and getting a zero on the essay she failed to turn in.
It was the first time she cried over schoolwork. The previous night she had a nightmare where McGonagall first failed her, then she got thrown from school, her wand broken, and the nightmare culminated when Harry died. She'd woken up panting, eyes streaming, and had to silence her curtains as she completely broke down.
Then Professor Lupin took them to the wardrobe hosting a boggart and the moment it shifted into McGonagall's form from her nightmare she knew she was in trouble. The nightmarish rendition of McGonagall failed her just as it had done in the dream, then stomped forwards to what would lead to Hermione's wand snapped and seeing Harry's dead body. She couldn't do it.
"Riddik-" She stumbled, shuffling back and her eyes going wet again.
"Rid-" It didn't work. McGonagall would snap her wand and Harry would die.
No. She wouldn't lose her magic. She wouldn't lose her first and only true friend. She'd save him. Her brain fumbling thoughts, "Funny, funny, think Hermione," and then it came to her. She raised her wand.
"Riddikulus!"
After this near miss of her entire class seeing how dark her nightmares were the days passed by in a blur of turns. Hermione used the time turner just as McGonagall and the ministry suggested, but it was wearing her down. Her doubts on those instructions grew. The logical, fast calculating side of herself kept cataloging the effects and coming to the same conclusion. It wasn't healthy or sustainable. For the first time in her life she was beginning to question the logic of the rules, their validity, and their spotty enforcement. In her most tired moments she was beginning to question the intent and reasoning of it all.
She was so stressed from the schedule overload and lack of sleep that when Ron vehemently came after Crookshanks in the common room with his wand raised and ready to curse she snatched up the orange fuzz to protect her familiar. His intent felt all kinds of bad. She stared him down. Her sleep deprived mind noted the majority of his accusations, while snide and hard to listen to, were unfounded and lacking evidence. She'd all but snapped. Hermione dealt in facts. With everything else going on she simply couldn't put up with this juvenile behavior.
"Ronald cats are allowed in the castle. Rats are not. If you're going to get a special exemption you should also request the professors help you set up precautions to keep him safe. He's small enough even some of the larger owls could swoop him up."
He positively blew up. The hateful things he said buried deep and Hermione felt smaller and smaller as the red head went on. He'd always been so fiery in the things he disliked, never pulling his punches. He didn't hold back now even though Hermione was that thing. She looked over at Harry wishing he'd at least mediate even if he didn't want to pick a side. He didn't say anything. Harry didn't defend her. He didn't calm Ron down.
Hermione looked between the two of them, her only friends. Eyes beginning to sting she knew she had to get out of there. Still holding Crookshanks she gave an excuse, ducked out the portrait hole, and ran. Out to the grounds and down to the banks of the Black Lake. Her legs collapsed under her, her exhaustion and the sprint too much for her. She took in great gulps of air, trying desperately not to think what her traitor mind was telling her.
"They wouldn't abandon me. They wouldn't. They're good friends. Why am I having these dreams?" Her homework for Divination included a dream diary and more than once she'd seen Harry's lifeless or possibly comatose body. Those were the worst. Since she'd started taking Trelawney's prescribed tea she'd been plagued with them. Even the more minor nightmares were disturbing and those she'd been having with greater regularity. Seeing Harry yelling at her, Harry and Ron sitting in the common room ignoring her.
She whispered into her cat's fur, "They're good friends. They wouldn't abandon me and I won't abandon them. Harry won't die, not as long as there's a single thing I can do to stop it."
Her death grip on the poor half-kneazle let up when he mewled.
"Sorry Crooks."
He mewled again, wriggling until she got the message and let him down. The cat cross kneazle stood next to her, his tail swishing as he watched the nearby pile of rocks.
"Crooks?"
The cat shot forwards. Hermione's eyes widened in alarm. She'd just spent half an hour getting yelled at for letting her cat not murder someone's pet. She wasn't going to get accused again.
"Crookshanks!"
Her too smart familiar ignored her. When he rounded the pile of rocks Hermione was just after him. Scrambling she nearly caught him, but on the other side of the rocks was a massive black dog. Crookshanks ran straight between its legs, the top of his orange fluffy tail just brushing it's scruffy coat. She froze. It's eyes had the same intelligent, assessing quality Crookshanks so often leveled her with. Eyes which were as tall as hers even perched on the rock as she was. Hermione's pedantic brain immediately offered a reference a text she'd read in first year. How some dog breeds like crup or cerberus were not only much larger in the magical world, but many of these breeds were extremely dangerous if pushed. They tended to be as intelligent as kneazles.
Forcing her voice low and soothing she greeted it, "Hello there. I see you caught the interest of my familiar. I hope you don't mind. He's good at telling someone's character and once he's decided he likes you he tends to curl up for a snuggle."
The magical dog hadn't moved. Crookshanks, true to her word, rubbed himself around the creature's long legs.
"Crooks, let's go inside now. If Ron doesn't stop shouting at girls till they cry maybe I'll let you eat his rat just to spite him. Not that it'd taste any good, the raggedy old thing."
The creature stepped forward. Hermione shut up. It stepped forward again. It looked eerily similar to the grim that first day of classes. Between seeing the shadowed figure in the forest and Trelawney's damn tea Hermione was beginning to think she was cracking under the workload and stress. The alternative of actually giving credence to the nightmares was unthinkable. She wouldn't fret till there was a reason to. Just because her newest nightmares of grims led to Harry dead or unconscious didn't mean it was irrefutably going to happen.
Didn't mean she wasn't scared. Having the physical form of a grim walking towards her had her heart skipping. As it often does her mouth opened of its own volition and her brain spilled some of its contents.
"You know I've heard a grim can either bring or withhold evil from a place. The muggles respect them in their north sea folklore, knowing them as guardians. Is it true that you're a guardian?"
The grim stopped in front of her. Only the fact Crooks seemed utterly unbothered kept her there and not bolting. Hagrid often said its how you approach or respond to an animal which determines if they'll accept or attack you. She kept utterly motionless on her rock despite the pulse point in her neck attempting to jump from her skin as the great mange and muzzle moved closer.
It stopped at her neck. It's cold nose barely brushed her skin. It sniffed and expelled a breath across her. Hermione once read that non-magical hounds often memorized a scent to find it later. Oh dear Marie Curie she hoped this was all. She wondered how she'd explain to her muggle parents being haunted by a grim in their nice normal neighborhood.
She still hadn't gotten around to telling them of the troll or basilisk. The fact her school didn't notify them either did wonders for Hermione's faith in her current authority figures. In this moment however she really truly wanted to have faith in them. She wished McGonagall or someone would notice a dangerous creature had wandered onto the grounds and come intervene before it decided she smelled foul and ripped her throat out. She breathed again and her sleepless and addled mind slowed itself, enough to process she wasn't dead yet. A sarcastic voice from the latest telly show popped out of her memory to tell her, "Kindly calm the fuck down. Please and thank you. Oh your computer is malfunctioning, have you tried turning it on and off again?" The point being she was fine. This creature may be massive and take up a lot of her space but it didn't feel bad.
The magic wafting from it wasn't hostile. Since taking the divination tea she'd been more sensitive to such things. It's how she'd known Malfoy had such bad intent their first care of magical creatures class. He'd been practically leaking bad ill will as he stepped towards Hagrid and the Hippogriffs. Magic intent wafting off this grim was opposite. It felt a little frenzied, a little sad, but not harmful. She calmed.
"You're a guardian then. I believe you."
The grim backed off. It bent its head, touching nose to nose with her half kneazle. Both creatures held the position. They stayed there for a minute or two before the massive black grim trotted back to the line of bushes and with a rustle of leaves disappeared into the forbidden forest.
Tags:
BAMF Hermione Granger, Badass Women, Sirius Black Lives, POV Sirius Black, Post-Sirius Black in Azkaban, Sirius Black Needs a Hug, Good Severus Snape, Severus Snape Lives, BAMF Filius Flitwick, Badass House Elves, Hermione Granger is a Member of the House of Black, Sirius Black as Padfoot, Rubeus Hagrid's Hut, POV Hermione Granger, Adult Hermione Granger, Hermione Granger-centric, Dark Hermione Granger, Fred Weasley Lives, Draco Malfoy is Bad at Feelings, Good Rabastan Lestrange, The Ministry of Magic is Corrupt (Harry Potter), Dark Sirius Black, Dark Magic Isn't Evil But Might Damn You Anyways, Falling In Love, BAMF Augusta Longbottom, Sirius Black & Severus Snape Friendship, Sirius Apologizes to Severus Snape