Author's Note

Please forgive any spelling and/or grammar errors. I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what you think!

This is the sequel to Anything, and the final installment for the trilogy. You probably need to read the other two first for this story to make sense. If you have already read them, hopefully you'll enjoy seeing Remus and Hermione's journey continue through what was the seventh book and the following years all the way past when she traveled back in time.

PS I'm not J. K. Rowling, so I don't own anything :(

Part 1: Before

All we have to decide is what to do with the time given us.

J.R.R. Tolkein

Chapter 1: Be Careful What You Wish For

July 1997

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes

A bright light filled the room, waking Hermione just as a familiar voice mused, "I'm not usually one to turn down finding a witch waiting in my bed – and I can't even begin to count how many times it has happened – but given the witch in question, I'm going to have to politely refuse."

"Sirius," Hermione greeted scratchily, sandpaper lining her throat. She blinked the sleep from her eyes as she sat up, squinting at the glare of a dozen glowing candles around the room. Her voice sounded as though razor blades had shredded it into so much ground beef as she said, "I wasn't expecting you back so soon."

When she'd left the cottage she shared with Remus, she'd not really had a destination in mind, and was lucky she'd not Splinched herself in the process. Somehow, her mind must have supplied that Sirius's flat was empty and that she could find a temporary safe haven there.

She wasn't even sure how long ago that had been. She'd locked herself in the room and given in to the despair of losing her parents. She'd fallen into a bottomless chasm with grief cascading over every edge, descending like a crushing waterfall hellbent on drowning her as she blubbered and sobbed, occasionally screaming her frustrations into the pillow.

Knowing the truth of what had happened to her family was almost worse than not knowing. At least before she could picture them happily living and working in some exotic little town in Australia.

When the tears had finally stopped, she'd felt numb. Hollow. As though all of her emotions had been scooped out, leaving her a vacant shell. Then she'd done nothing but doze fitfully and stare at the textured ceiling for hours on end.

"Obviously," he snarked, moving to sit beside her.

Nimble fingers reached out to lift a chunk of her matted, and in all likelihood filthy, hair. He dropped it almost at once with a barely concealed look of disgust, and she batted his hands away irritably.

As if he was one to point fingers. Hermione distinctly recalled how infrequently he'd bathed that first year when they'd been at Grimmauld Place. He'd much preferred spending his time wallowing and drinking rather than looking after himself.

The memory of his unpleasant odor, a mix of stale alcohol and sweat – the unfortunate product of countless night terrors – was permanently branded in her mind.

"Though that doesn't explain why you're in my bed rather than Moony's," he tried, gently prompting her to explain.

"We had a fight," Hermione said tersely.

"I figured," Sirius said drolly. "You don't expect me to believe he kicked you out, do you?"

For an instant, Hermione wondered if Remus would have done that very thing. No. No matter how furious with her he was, he wouldn't have kicked her out. He might have left her there, but he'd never have asked her to go.

"No," she said, groaning as she moved, muscles protesting after being immoble for so long. "I just couldn't fight anymore. I needed a time out to regroup."

Sighing, Sirius asked, "What'd he do?"

"It's more what we both did," she confessed, not really in the mood to rehash everything.

"At least you're admitting the fault is both of yours," Sirius remarked brightly. Too brightly, given her current outlook on life.

Then his words registered, and she growled, "I always admit when I'm wrong!"

Lips twitched, far too amused for her liking, but all he said was, "Okay."

"Hmph."

It wasn't her fault that she was usually right!

Hermione sobered, daring to ask, "Do you believe in fate, Sirius?"

Sirius eyed her wearily as he considered his response, weighing his words carefully. She'd not expected him to give her an honest answer, but as the silence stretched, she knew he was going to.

"I believe our actions have consequences, and that it is our choices – good and bad – that define where our life leads us," he finally voiced, the knowledge hard-won.

"Insightful," she murmured softly, fidgeting with the corner of her torn thumbnail, a lingering souvenir from her fight with the giants.

"Azkaban and cheating death can do that for a person. Though, I'll admit, it took me a bit longer than most to grow up enough to learn that lesson," Sirius said frankly.

Hermione watched him tuck a strand of his ebony hair behind his ear, and noted that it was the first time he'd ever mentioned Azkaban without his demons screaming just out of sight. Ordinarily, she could detect traces of the place lingering on his person. Sometimes the ghosts haunted his eyes, their pearly paleness fluttering in a nonexistent breeze just as the veil in the Department of Mysteries had. Other times, Azkaban's taint would help him find his way into the bottom of a bottle or have him crying out on a sleepless night.

Yet right then, sitting beside her, Sirius looked…healthy. Normal. Happy even.

If nothing else went right during her little foray into the past, at least she'd been able to save Sirius.

"Yes. You definitely suffered from a bit of arrested development when I first met you," Hermione said crisply, not sugarcoating her assessment of the man he'd been. "I'm so very glad you aren't wasting your second chance."

"Honestly, I think I'm up to my third or fourth chance. But don't worry. I know I'm not a cat, so I won't push it for nine tries," he teased, nudging her playfully with his shoulder. Then he sobered, and insisted, "Tell me what's happened. I was only gone three weeks."

His earlier confession made it easier for her to open up, as he'd probably already suspected it would. "Albus is dead, and Remus blames me for not stopping it."

"Albus is…

"Yes. Dead."

"Could you have stopped it?"

"It's funny. Remus never even thought to ask me that," Hermione said, forcing a strained chuckle that was anything but amused. Deranged was probably a more apt description.

Though she wondered if he'd tried to during their last meeting. It was all such a blur that she couldn't remember what had been said. All she'd been able to grasp was the knowledge that her parents were dead. She probably should have told Remus, but the words had stuck within her. Locked up tight, and she'd not had a key to release them. Saying them aloud would have made it real, and she'd not been able to face that.

Not then. Not even now.

It was easier to be brave back in school. The naivety and passion of youth. She and her friends had all been blank canvases back then. They all thought they were invincible. That fighting was their duty. Because it was what was right.

She still believed in fighting for just causes. Hell, she'd devoted her life to them. But she understood the dangers better now.

Back then, she didn't really understand what dealing with loss and pain meant. Back then, she'd not had to endure years of grief. That knowledge brought with it a wealth of caution and trepidation. It wore on you. Made a person more hesitant. Less willing to take risks or chances with their heart or life.

"That doesn't sound like Remus. He's usually the most level headed of us all," Sirius said, a troubled line forming a deep furrow in his brow.

"Severus was the one to do it. To kill Albus," Hermione explained dully, bracing herself for the inevitable explosion.

Every muscle in the man beside her tensed. She could feel the coiled potential radiating from him, a lion prepared to pounce. Yet he said nothing, thoroughly shocking her.

"No accusations? No curses?" she queried, studying the hard line of his clenched jaw and the white knuckles of his balled fists.

"Given everything that you've done for me, I figure I at least owe you the chance to explain. Especially if it means rubbing Moony's nose in the fact that I was the more mature one later," Sirius said tightly, anger simmering just beneath the surface, though he tried to make light of the situation to cool it. "Besides, you're clearly a mess. I don't think you would be if there wasn't more to the story."

Hermione weighed her words carefully.

How much of the events from the past two years were her fault. Hers, because she'd accidentally shared too much or falsely believed she knew the best course of action. How many times had she judged Dumbledore for his secrets and decisive actions? Could she honestly say she was any different?

No. The simple fact was, she behaved in exactly the same manner that he did. She was just as guilty of believing her knowledge and opinions were superior to everyone else's.

Sighing, she settled for saying, "It had to happen. He had to do it. The course of events ultimately saves Harry's life."

Instantly, Sirius perked up. She should have known that hinting about Harry would be too much temptation for him to resist. But her vague explanation was all that she could come up with to justify Severus's actions in a way Sirius wouldn't question.

"How?" Sirius demanded, leaning so close that he was practically in her lap.

"I can't say – you know that," she replied wearily, squeezing her eyes tightly shut to block out his beseeching expression.

"I'm not Remus. I don't have any qualms about you sharing the future. If you expect me to believe Snape had to kill Dumbledore for Harry's sake, I'll need a little bit more to go on."

"You might not have any qualms, but I certainly do," Hermione quickly replied, shaking her head against the very idea of sharing information heedlessly.

"You've shared a bit in the past," Sirius reminded her.

"The potential consequences aren't worth the risk if it isn't absolutely necessary," she argued, willing him to understand.

"Something small. Anything really," Sirius persisted. "Not anything major…just something that will show me it really is in Harry's best interest."

What the hell. She'd already broken too many rules to count. What was this in comparison?

So long as it wasn't anything important. So long as it was something insignificant to the war, but vital enough to help him form his own opinion – instead of being forced to rely solely on hers. And hadn't she recognized, only minutes earlier, that she needed to stop making decisions for others?

"Sirius…"

"Please, Hermione. I can't do anything real for my godson. At least give me this peace of mind," he begged, tipping the scales with that final push.

"You swore a vow to me," she reminded, needing to ensure that what she shared went no further than this room.

"I did," he agreed, almost bouncing from excitement as he realized he was getting his way on this.

"You can't share this with anyone," she insisted, grabbing his hand and giving it a meaningful squeeze to physically press the command into his flesh.

"Understood," he swore immediately, impatient for her to get on with it already.

"Harry's son," she whispered, missing the little green-eyed boy with his shy smiles and quiet laughter. He was so like the Harry she'd first met on the train to Hogwarts so many years ago.

"James Sirius," Sirius announced proudly, puffing out his chest importantly at the acknowledgement that his godson had named his own son after him.

"His other son," Hermione said, watching Sirius's smile grow upon learning Harry had two boys. "His name is Albus Severus. Do you really think Harry would honor the man in such a way if he wasn't deserving?"

"He named…" Sirius breathed, glancing vacantly about the room as he processed what she'd told him.

"Yes," she confirmed.

It was a long time before Sirius spoke. The whole gambit of emotions flashed across his face. Happiness. Shock. Confusion. Suspicion. Happiness again. Disbelief. Curiosity. And finally happiness for the third time.

"That's…. That's…wow. I guess it's good enough for me then," he finally declared, obviously still a bit stunned.

"It is?"

"Yes. But eventually I'll need to hear the whole of it, because now I'm left second guessing everything I thought I knew about a whole number of things. And don't think this means I despise Snivellus any less, because I don't. He'll always be a miserable git."

She smiled sadly, wondering if he was recalling anything from his time at Hogwarts. A time when things were simpler, and all they had to worry about were grades, Quidditch, and getting up to mischief with friends.

That line of thought reminded her that her parents were dead, and her younger self was blissfully unaware of the fact. Her counterpart was busy helping the Weasleys prepare for Bill and Fleur's wedding and awkwardly attempting to flirt with Ron.

Hermione blinked, clearing the bittersweet memories from her eyes, just in time to catch Sirius studying her intensely.

"Hermione, what else happened?"

"I'm not ready to talk about all of it," she confessed, heart aching over her most recent loss.

"What about the reason you and Remus are fighting in the first place? Do you want to talk about that?" Sirius prodded.

"He doesn't trust me," she said simply, wondering if she'd ever really given him a reason to trust her.

She'd never really realized how difficult a long distance relationship was, but that was essentially what they had. They had a few hours, occasionally a day or two, here and there for the last two years. It was hard to communicate and build something solid when you were never together. She'd believed they'd succeeded, despite the obstacles, but their latest interactions had her thinking twice.

"He'll figure it out," Sirius said, shrugging lightly. Apparently he had more faith in them than she did. "This will all blow over eventually."

"Maybe…" Hermione trailed off as a disturbing thought suddenly hit her.

Would he figure it out before she vanished from this timeline? With the news of her parents, she'd completely forgotten about the more pressing issue at hand.

"What's the date?" she asked, voice little more than a constricted grunt.

"You don't know?"

"I've been here for a spell," she choked out defensively.

"It's the fifteenth. Why?"

That meant it was at least a week past when Remus would have needed to sleep with Tonks. They'd never ended up talking about it, and given the way she'd left him, Hermione couldn't imagine why he'd go out of his way to do something he was so dead set against to keep her around if they weren't even together.

Which meant that Severus was wrong. Jamie alone was enough to send her into the past. They'd fought over it, and she'd worried for nothing.

"I'm still here," she whispered, resting her hand on the bed to make sure it was tangible and not an illusion. The silky fabric was smooth as an iced over pond on a clear winter morning. And very, very real.

"You were going to leave over a fight?" Sirius demanded hotly, clearly annoyed by the very idea of her doing that to his best mate.

"No. There was a chance I might not still get sent back, but I guess Severus was wrong," she explained, feeling her throat constrict and knives slashing her heart to bloody ribbons.

Teddy. He was really and truly gone. She'd known it was a possibility, but now…

The grief was nearly worse than the news that her parents were dead. Teddy was the closest she'd ever come to having a child of her own. She'd watched him countless times over the years when Harry or Ginny had to work late or Andy wasn't feeling well. He'd even call her mum sometimes.

Now that would never happen.

Would Harry heal as quickly after the war without his godson to focus on? And what about Andy? After the loss of both her husband and her daughter, Teddy had been a blessing.

"Hey, what's with the tears?" Sirius asked, nudging her and scattering her morbid thoughts. "Staying is a good thing, right?"

"Yes," she said, tasting the bittersweet grief coating the inside of her mouth as sharp as Pepperup Potion.

"Come here," he urged, looping an arm around her shoulders and tugging her close.

Hermione felt like a zombie as Sirius held her, lightly rubbing her shoulder as she sniffed back a fresh wave of tears. The hot liquid scalded her eyes, and the building pressure made her already sore temples throb worse.

"Thanks for letting me stay with you," she hiccuped, the words interrupted by the sound of her stomach growling audibly. Hermione couldn't remember for certain if she'd eaten or not since arriving in Sirius's flat. Though given the length of her stay, she probably had a few times.

"What are friends for?" he said sincerely, sighing deeply. "But you really need a bath. Why don't you have one while I whip you up something to eat."

"Feeling any better?" Sirius asked, setting a simple plate of eggs and toast in front of her when she reached the table.

"Honestly?" she asked, brushing the thick strands of her hair, wet from her recommended shower, behind her shoulder. "No. But since I'm not going anywhere, there's a lot that needs done."

"Right to it then. Should I borrow the twins' owl to get Moony over here?" Sirius asked eagerly, ready for his friends to make up and get back to normal.

"I…" Hermione trailed off.

It was true that she did want to see him. She always wanted to see him. Especially now that her conversation with Sirius had proven that she could sort things out without a blow up. But now that she knew she was there to stay, there was so much to do.

A little voice in her head began whispering, 'Harry needs you to set up the details of his move.' Yet aloud, she replied, "Yes."

"Done. Now eat up," he ordered, hurrying from the kitchen to summon Remus.

Nerves didn't stop her from shoveling every bite of the eggs in her mouth and practically inhaling the buttered toast Sirius had offered her. Her empty stomach demanded it.

She'd just spelled the dishes to wash themselves when Remus entered the kitchen, obviously having dropped everything to come the second Sirius got in touch with him. His greying hair stuck up wildly, as though he'd been running his fingers through it repeatedly since waking. He was standing taller than he had the last few times she'd seen him, some invisible weight had been lifted off his shoulders. And his eyes. Hermione inhaled at the crackling, blue flames blazing from their depths when he caught sight of her.

Done?

Had she really considered giving up a man that could make her feel so alive with a single look just because she was mentally exhausted? What a fool she'd been that day.

"I'd have come sooner, but I didn't know you were here," Remus began, voice husky and thickly laced with barely suppressed emotion.

"I didn't mean to worry you," she replied softly, suddenly worried he'd been frantic, fearing she'd been captured, killed, or gone from the past altogether, and he'd had no way to reach her. "I was…overwhelmed."

Sirius's apartment was specifically spelled to ward off owls not addressed to the twins, Anti-Disapparation wards meant you couldn't Apparate inside, and the Floo wasn't connected to the network. They'd needed to make sure no one inadvertently discovered the wizard living above the joke shop.

Remus gave no indication that he'd been unduly concerned, and that relaxed her a little as he nodded, accepting her apology, before blurting, "I want us to figure this out."

"So do I," she said, sighing in relief.

"I know I've repeatedly told you that I don't want you to share what you know. I understand how dangerous meddling with time can be. There are rules in place for a reason. But when I don't have all of the information, I can't help but be suspicious of people's motives. It's just who I am," he explained, concisely summarizing why he was so upset with her, as well as all the reasons that had led to their initial fight.

"So how can we fix that? Because I don't see a solution there. You don't want me to tell you, so I don't, but then you don't trust me," Hermione counted, hoping he'd come up with a plan moving forward. Her brain was still rebounding from being painfully wrung out by the deaths of her parents. It was little more than mush at the moment.

"I want to trust you. I should. Ordinarily I do. It's just… I asked you if anything was going to happen, and you lied. You said everything would be fine. Obviously that wasn't the case. So why? Were the events different from what you remembered?"

"No. They happened exactly the same."

"Then I don't understand."

"I remembered that night…running into you and Bill in the hall. You weren't worried. You weren't on guard. During the fight our side was practically outnumbered, given half of us were underaged students. If you'd known –"

"We would have been much better prepared. The twins, Kingsley, Mad-Eye, Fleur…they all would have been there," Remus finished for her, lips parting slightly as he processed the situation.

"And you and Bill would have made sure my friends and I were locked up tight, and unable to join," Hermione added, fidgeting with her fingers. She felt remarkably like a misbehaving schoolgirl getting a setdown from her professor right then. It was a bit unsettling. "I couldn't let that be changed."

"Why was it so important for you to be part of it? You didn't even fight," he asked, a familiar wrinkle ceasing his forehead.

"You won't like my reason," she warned. How many times had she already said that very thing to him – usually where Severus was involved.

"Thanks for the warning. I promise I can behave rationally and hear you out," Remus said dryly, but no less serious.

Hermione took a deep breath, then plunged ahead, explaining, "This isn't the whole of it, but it was partly because I knew we all survived, and I didn't want to risk that changing. If you changed who was involved, there's no telling what the outcome would be. And also because …without my younger self going to him, Severus wouldn't have joined the battle."

"And you consider his actions a good thing?" Remus said tightly, curling his fingers into fists. At least he wasn't yelling. So far this conversation was definitely going better than it had the night it happened.

"Albus was going to die that night one way or another. He was so weak after he and Harry… Do you truly believe he would have rather died by Draco Malfoy's hand – a child?"

"No," Remus reluctantly allowed, frowning.

He still looked like he wished to argue, so Hermione continued, adding, "Or Greyback? What would he have done to him first?"

"Merlin," Remus breathed, paling. A green tint came over his face at the suggestion. Probably because he remembered both what Greyback had done to him and what the werewolf had done to Bill that night.

"Yes. Knowing how he likes to play with his victims, I wanted to spare Albus that," Hermione explained.

"Snape did it quick," Remus agreed, running a tired hand over his face.

"Yes. Painless," Hermione added, watching him carefully.

The distance separating them seemed to shrink. What once had been miles and a canyon that they were shouting across was suddenly no more than a foot or two. And even that appeared to be getting smaller and smaller with each work they spoke.

"Did he know?" Remus asked, and upon noting her confusion, clarified, "How much did you share with Dumbledore about what you know?"

"Overtly? Only twice did I tell him anything," Hermione said carefully, wondering if Remus was going to ask her to share it all. If he did, she would. Even though she knew Sirius was in the family room listening to every word they exchanged.

"What happened when you did?"

"The first time was a warning, and…and the event still happened exactly as I remembered," Hermione said flatly, recalling her telling Albus not to put the ring on, and her dismay upon discovering that he had anyway. That event must have been inevitable.

Did it make things for Severus any easier? Albus had to die. It was either him or Severus. At least with him already dying there was a chance that Severus's guilt was less.

"Knowing that makes me wonder how much I actually can change. Maybe it doesn't matter what I share if the universe still ensures the events happen regardless," she continued, taking a small step closer to Remus, trying to bridge the remaining gap between them.

"That's possible, I suppose. But Dumbledore wouldn't have advised you to be so cautious if he didn't think there was a valid reason."

"I thought you were angry I didn't tell you beforehand," Hermione reminded, unexpectedly amused that Remus had just begun arguing in favor of the stance she'd previously taken.

"This really is a mess, isn't it?" he asked, though his lips twitched in a ghost of a smile as he did. "What was the second? You said you told him two things. How did the other go?" Remus prodded, wondering how that fit in with what they were discussing.

"It was the morning he died," Hermione confessed, thinking back to the letter she'd sent containing the instructions to the cave where the locket was hidden. "I don't think I should explain more."

Indecision warred on his face. He wanted to know more, yet he refrained from asking. Hermione loved the man all the more for his show of restraint. Even then, when it went against his every instinct, Remus was trying to come to terms with what she was saying and trust her.

"I helped him locate something," she elaborated, offering the small tidbit as a way of compromising. It was something they needed to do more of, and it fell in line with her earlier recognition that she didn't know everything.

"That's where he took Harry," Remus guessed, nodding along as he pieced the events of that fateful day together. "Harry won't tell anyone about the mission Albus left him to do."

"I'm keeping both of their secrets. As well as my own," Hermione stated plainly, hoping the fact that Harry was refusing to share would work as a point in her favor just now.

The day he'd offered to accompany the trio, Remus had known they were searching for something, but had given no indication that he knew precisely what they sought. Because of that, she needed to keep him partially in the dark for at least a little longer.

"I love you, Hermione."

The intensity behind the declaration startled her. But not so much that she wasn't able to respond, saying, "I'm sorry for what I've put you through. It was never my intention to lie to you or hurt you.

"I don't really know how to navigate through this. I'm used to being the cleverest, and having others look to me for all the answers. But I don't always have them here because I know too much. It's a delicate balance that I have to tread carefully. The ripple effects of a wrong move could be disastrous for all of us."

"I'm sorry too. I was deliberately picking a fight with you. I needed the release after the moon," Remus said, flushing with shame and ducking his head to avoid meeting her gaze. A sure sign that he didn't want her to see how much he still resented and hated his condition.

"Oh. That never even occurred to me," she murmured, feeling incredibly foolish and blind.

Between the fighting, distance, and then learning of her parents, she'd missed the arrival of the full moon that month. She'd prepared his potion on autopilot, but not actually connected the dots between his temper and the stage of the lunar cycle.

Then there was the other concern that had been weighing on her.

"I was so worried about disappearing, but I guess I shouldn't have been since that theory was wrong," she said awkwardly, regretting ever having tried to force Remus and Tonks together. Particularly in light of how the situation was moot.

"Hermione…," Remus began uncertainly, frowning and hesitating before he announced, "Dora is pregnant."

"Oh."