Really trying to update more regularly! Sadly, life is just a little too crazy for regular, weekly updates. But I'm really trying not not leave you hanging for too long in between. thanks for following along darlings!
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Hermione desperately prayed she was dead as she regained consciousness. She could finally stop fighting. All her friends and family had already gone on before her. What she wouldn't give to see them again. Of course, that's when the pain finally caught up to her brain. There was a searing ache across her back and all of her muscles hurt. Lying on her stomach, she tried to sit up, but only managed to lurch to the side and retch.
It wasn't until she was done, gasping for air, that she realized someone had moved a waste basket under her face to limit the mess. The person was also currently hold back her hair, speaking to her soothingly. The hand released its grip on her curls and instead helped her back onto the bed, keeping her lying face down.
"There we go, love. Try not to move too much, don't want to go ripping your back open again."
That voice. Hermione knew that voice. Moving as little as possible, she turned her head to the side the voice had come from. Sitting in a chair pulled up next to her bed, was a much less scarred, much less worn, Remus Lupin. He smiled at her, clearly trying to be both comforting and reassuring.
Hermione couldn't stop the tears that filled her eyes, instead, hiding her face back in her pillow. That didn't stop the werewolf from hearing her sniffles. She felt his hand gently begin to stroke her hair, making shushing noises. Other than that, he just let her cry, for which Hermione was grateful. It had been a long time since she had let herself cry, always trying to be strong for everyone else. But having the evidence of the Order's failure in her time, so blaringly obvious before her, was the final straw. She had known for awhile that the odds of winning were almost nonexistent by the time Parkinson had found her in that alley, hiding amongst the rubbish.
At the thought of Parkinson, Hermione quickly forced the flood of emotions down. There would be time to examine them later, in private. Right now she had other things to take care of. She took a few extra deep breaths before once again facing her dead professor. Remus smiled again once he saw she was no longer crying and was ready to speak to him.
"Sorry, Remus. You just took me by surprise." Like any try Gryffindor, he couldn't keep his shock from showing on his face. Hermione felt slightly better at not being the only person thrown off balance in the room.
He tried valiantly, and failed horribly, to school his features back into polite interest. "So, it's true then? You really are from the future?"
Hermione couldn't suppress the small smile at his obvious awe, "Yes, yes I am."
At her confirmation Remus leaned back in his chair, his hand reflexively musing his sandy hair. Hermione felt a clench of nostalgia in her chest at the gesture. How many times had she watched her Remus make the same motion as they poured over old tomes together? It was a gesture he made whenever deep in thought, and she knew it was best to let him mull over whatever he was processing instead of interrupting. This conversation would go far more smoothly if she let him arrange his thoughts.
"So, you obviously know me, but seeing as I don't recognize you, I'm assuming I haven't met you yet. How far back did you travel?"
At his question, the small smile slid from her face. "That depends on what year it is."
Remus gave her a puzzled look, "Did you not set the time turner? Do you not know how far back you came?"
Hermione sighed, she was exhausted but knew she needed to give them at least some information before she fell back to sleep. "I wasn't the one that set the turner, so I can't be totally sure what year it is. I meant to travel back twenty years, so it should be 1978. But we were in a bit of a hurry, and everything is a little fuzzy so we could very well have accidentally ended up in the wrong time."
He nodded, accepting her answer. "You were successful then, it's November 2, 1978."
Hermione released a loud sigh, closing her eyes, "Oh, thank Merlin. We made it. To answer your question then, we traveled back twenty years for sure." She heard Remus shifting in his seat next to her. This apparently wasn't going to be the end of his questions. She only hoped he would be satisfied soon. She was fighting to stay awake as it was, she didn't have time for him to work up the courage to ask his next question.
Without looking at him she asked, "What is it, Remus?"
She pictured the blush that would be spreading up his neck at being called out on his fidgeting. He had always hated drawing attention to himself. Opening her eyes once more, she saw she had been correct. There was a dark red blush climbing up his neck, staining his cheeks. He cleared his throat before once again making eye contact.
"How did you get McGonagall's time turner? And why did you bring a Death Eater back with you?"
The million dollar questions. She was at least grateful he wasn't going to waste more time asking useless ones.
"Professor McGonagall gave it to me shortly after Hogwarts fell. The Order was being hunted down and slaughtered. We were desperate to escape, but it wasn't looking good for us, so she handed me the turner and told me to use it when there were no other options left. Then she-" Hermione tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. She would never forget the look of determination on her favorite professors face as she turned and headed back the way they had come, giving them more time to make their escape. She hadn't seen what they did to the woman, but she had heard enough to have the image haunt her nightmares.
Seeing her distress, Remus didn't push. "I see. So we don't win this war anytime soon." It wasn't a question.
Hermione felt the need to reassure him as much as she could. "There's a reprieve in 1981 that lasts for fourteen years. Everyone thought he was gone, but he was just biding his time. He came back in full force in 1995, but nobody really believed it until a year later. So it's wasn't constant fighting, it only really got bad again in 1996 when everyone finally accepted his return."
Remus ran his thumb across his stubbled chin, processing what he had been told so far.
"And the Death Eater?"
A small laugh escaped her. "That was a complete surprise, though certainly not unwelcome. She found me when I was sure I was going to die, alone and the last remaining member of the Order. Instead of turning me in, she brought me back to her flat and tried patching me up the best she could. That's when the others found us. I couldn't leave her there after she helped me, and I hardly had the energy to use the time turner myself anyway. Again, she helped. If it weren't for her, I would already be dead or kept alive for future torturing and information. She would be too for helping me."
They lapsed into silence. Remus, thoughts racing with everything this small woman had told him, while she tried to not be sucked back into her own depressing thoughts.
Hermione couldn't fight the exhaustion in her body any longer, letting her eyes fall closed. Remus must have noticed the movement, because he suddenly stood, speaking softly so as not to startle her, "I think that's enough for now. It's a lot to process and you still have a lot of healing ahead of you. Get some rest, and I'll have some food brought up next time you're awake."
She was asleep before the door clicked shut behind him.
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The next time Hermione awoke it was to the pleasant, and very welcome, smell of warm stew and fresh bread. Opening her eyes, she had her guess confirmed. Sitting on the nightstand next to her was a steamy bowl, with two slices of white bread. Her stomach grumbled at the idea of being this close to having a decent meal. She couldn't even remember the last time she had been able to sit down and have a filling meal. She couldn't even remember the last time she had been full. Trying to stay ahead of a bunch of psychopaths hell-bent on murdering you in the most gruesome ways they could think of has a tendency to make small things, like regular meals, into luxuries.
She tried to roll over so she could sit up, but only managed to flop back onto her pillow and grown. Apparently, a slicing hex of that caliber took more than just a couple of naps to fix. Hearing a soft chuckle, she moved so she could see whoever had brought her the mouth-watering food.
Shiny black hair that fell just so in that I-woke-up-like-this-way look. Grey eyes shiny as he tried not to outright laugh at her discomfort. Those perfect lips twisted up at the corner trying to contain his mirth.
"Sirius Black if you came in here just to have a laugh at the invalid, you'd better shove off before I hex your bollocks," Hermione mumbled into her pillow. He must have heard her clear enough because he finally let go of the laugh he was trying to suppress.
"Sorry love, you take a good laugh where you can get it these days around here," Sirius replied once he had gotten himself under control. Hermione couldn't help but crack a smile. The Sirius of her time had been prone to ridiculous bouts of brooding, followed closely by childish tantrums. She had been sure his extended stay in Azkaban had probably stunted his emotional growth. It warmed her heart to see this Sirius laughing so freely without that hint of bitterness tainting it. This is what he had always meant to be.
She moved her head back to the side so she could look at him, "Well, are you going to help me sit up then or were you just sent to torture me with the smells of that wonderful food?" Without a word Sirius scooched forward in his chair, leaning to help her roll over, before grabbing under her arms, rearranging the pillows so she could be propped up enough to eat. The contact with her back still stung, but not enough to deter her from enjoying her meal.
Once she was settled, Sirius placed the tray across her lap. With a very serious look, he asked, "Now, are you sure you have the strength to be feeding yourself? I've had lots of practice hand feeding my dear, deer friend when they simply cannot perform the task themselves."
Hermione raised one eyebrow, "Are you trying to be punny? Playing on the word "dear"?"
Sirius smiled at her, "Ah, so you do know our little secret then, my dear time traveler. Didn't want to ask you outright in case you weren't already privy to that information."
"Honestly, the list of things I don't know about you people is shorter than the list of things I do know."
"Sounds like there are some interesting stories in there then." He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand.
"There are, but you're just going to have to wait. My stomach feels like it's going to eat itself if I don't eat this soon." She picked up her spoon to emphasize her point.
Sirius nodded, gesturing for her to tuck in, as he sat back in his chair. Hermione knew he wasn't a patient man, but she couldn't believe the amount of fidgeting! Clasping and unclasping his hands, crossing his arms, uncrossing them, jiggling one leg, tapping his fingers against said leg.
"Sirius, I'm sure you have other things to do besides waiting for me to finish eating. I plan on enjoying this and your constant shifting isn't going to make me go any faster. In fact, it makes me want to go slower just to see how long it takes for you to break. I promise I'll answer your questions later."
He seemed satisfied with that answer and quickly hopped up from his seat. "Right, I'll be back then. Lots to do, saving the world and everything." He winked at her before heading out the door.
She let out a heavy sigh once he was gone. The man was quite literally a puppy with too much energy. She pushed all other thoughts of Sirius away. Hermione was determined to savor every bite.
Just as she was wiping the last bite of bread around the bowl the bedroom door opened and Remus entered. He had just opened his mouth to say something when someone down the hall started yelling. They were too far away to make out the words, and they shared a confused look. Understanding lit both their faces when another voice responded just as loudly.
"Well, I see Sirius went back to speak with Parkinson. Sounds like it's going well."
Hermione laughed as he stepped in and shut the door, dampening the shouts further. Her future professor had always had a subtly sarcastic sense of humor. You had to know him well to understand the subtle change in his inflection when he was joking.
"And here I thought they would have been just the best of friends." Hermione returned, "They can both be so crushingly witty it's a wonder they haven't bonded yet over ridiculing everyone else around them." Remus snorted at that. Yes, Sirius could be rather caustic at times.
"It's only a matter of time then before they band together against the rest of us mere mortals." Coming closer, Remus noticed she had eaten all of her food. "And I see, you've finished. I can take that back down for you then." He had grabbed up the tray before she could reply. Seeing him so close up only made Hermione realize just how tired the man looked.
"Remus, just leave it on the nightstand, you look exhausted. You should be resting after a full moon, not waiting on other people."
At her casual mention of the full moon, Remus lost his grip on the tray and it fell to the floor, the bowl shattering.
"You know?" He whispered. It may have been soft, but Hermione caught the panic that was starting to build.
"She quickly grabbed his hand trying to ground him. "Remus please, it's alright, I would never betray your trust. I only mentioned it because nobody else is here. I would never share your secret."
"My secret? You're not concerned about, oh I don't know, the fact I could kill you?"
Hermione made sure he was looking her in the eye before she replied, "I've seen enough of people to understand it isn't a disease that makes you a monster, it's what's in your heart that matters. You may be dangerous once a month, but there are others who are dangerous the whole month. People who kill indiscriminately regardless of age or gender. They are the real monsters, Remus."
He could only stare at her as he swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat. Finally, he whispered, "Does it really get that bad?"
"Worse than you can ever imagine."
Before their conversation could go any further, the bedroom door was thrown open so hard it bounced off the wall. Both Hermione and Remus jumped at the sudden intrusion.
Parkinson stormed in, clearly on the warpath. "Oh good, you're awake, Granger. Now you can be useful." She threw her arm out behind her, gesturing at the person who had followed her, "Now would be a wonderful time to explain that I, in no way, coerced you into taking me back in time. You were not my prisoner, you acted of your own free will, this was not a plot by the Dark Lord to plant spy's amongst the Order, and - what was the last one you accused me of? - Oh yes, I have not imperiused you into helping me because I am a no good Death Eater taking advantage of you and you are a helpless little lady caught up in my sneaky Slytherin lies." The last bit was said with so much sarcasm, Hermione was surprised it wasn't literally dripping from Parkinson's mouth.
Hermione turned her attention from the irate girl to glare at Sirius. "Helpless little lady am I?"
Sirius audibly gulped. He knew that tone all too well from goading Evans over the years. He was about to be metaphorically ripped apart.