Disclaimer: "Harry Potter" and all other aspects of this fic that you recognize (unless they're from any of my other fics) all belong to J.K. Rowling, and not to me! The storyline and the ideas involved in this story, however, do belong to me!

Summary: A dark force haunts the trio. When the dead come back to life, can you deal with what they might have to tell you? This is a story about loss, damnation, and a dead man's second chance at redemption ...

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Road to Redemption

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Chapter Eight: To Be or Not to Be

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"I'm sorry," Hermione said in a rather croaky voice, "I don't think I could have heard you quite accurately, Sirius. I think – I thought – I heard you tell me that I don't have to die. Where have you been all this time? Are you blind? Look around you. This world – it doesn't have a Hermione, it doesn't have a Sirius, it doesn't have a sane Lupin, or an intact Fred – I'm dead here, Sirius. Nothing we do can change what occurs in the future, what happens to us."

"I won't deny that it's too late for me to live," Sirius said slowly, "But it isn't too late for you."

"You're touched in the head!"

"I assure you, I'm not."

Hermione glared at him. "Explain, then."

"Later," Sirius said, looking out of the window of the Astronomy Tower, "If you can wait until we get back to our own time and have a chance to talk, I'll explain it all to you. But believe me, there IS hope. Now, we've got to get down towards the lake. It's time to find a way out of here."

Still rather stunned, Hermione followed him.

It must have been three and a half hours since they had gone into the castle. Sirius gauged the time to be about midnight when he looked up at the moon. Hermione's watch, of course, didn't work because it ran on her own time and was now spinning wildly, as befuddled as she was. They stood out in the cold October night, both staring at Hermione's wand as if they hoped it would somehow leap into the air and cast the spell that would take them back to their own time. Hermione felt distinctly ridiculous standing in Hogwarts grounds and staring blankly at her wand. They must have been standing and staring for over five minutes now. Silly sort of thing to do.

"Maybe you've got to fall down stairs, or a slope," Sirius suggested, "And let your wand go flying."

"There are no stairs here," reminded Hermione tartly, "And while you may be willing to go streaking down a space of air, Sirius Black, I have no desire to attempt to break my neck at such a time. I nearly did it once, and got lucky there."

"Lucky?" Sirius raised his eyebrows. "If I remember correctly, I broke your fall – and bore the brunt of the pain involved in our journey."

Hermione smiled slightly. "Well, what do we do?"

"You're supposed to be the bright one."

"I didn't have the skill or brains to become an Animagus, did I?"

"Only because you would have broken the law to do it."

"Oh! Shut up."

They were walking down the slope, still glancing occasionally (and hopefully) at Hermione's wand. At this moment, they reached the spot on which they had originally arrived. Hermione realized with a shock that someone was already here. Clearly a pair of night prowlers. One was half- hidden by the rock and trying to stand up (a drunk student?) while the other was standing on the grass. He turned as Hermione (and the unseen Sirius) approached, and Hermione had no time to hide.

From ten feet away and in the dim light of the moon, she saw a tall and thin boy with untidy black hair, a wand in his hand, and eyes that seemed to reflect light. Hermione frowned, squinting in the shadows. He looked very familiar.

"James?" she said doubtfully, hoping he wouldn't recognize her from pictures.

The boy blinked. "James?" He demanded, and his voice was extremely familiar, "I hardly think – you feeling all right, Hermione?"

Hermione stared, shocked. She and Sirius both said at the same time: "Harry?"

"Yeah ... who else?"

Hermione did not bother to expend time and energy in listing the possibilities that he could have been any one of four people: Harry Potter at 16, Harry Potter at 32, James Potter at 16, or James Sirius Potter. She then realized the glint in his eyes were not his eyes but glasses. It couldn't have been Harry's son, because James Jr. didn't have glasses, now, did he? She couldn't help smiling.

She hugged Harry impulsively. "Oh, I'm so glad to see you, Harry!" She looked past him as the half-hidden (drunken) figure stumbled out from behind the rock, into the moonlight. "And Ron! What have you been drinking? No, never mind. What're you both doing here?"

"We came to rescue you, of course," Ron mumbled, brushing leaves off his shirt, "You really do cause plenty of problems, Hermione! Luckily, Dumbledore had more sense than to panic and think the worst when we realizing you were nowhere to be found in the castle."

"What's he talking about?" Hermione asked Harry.

He smiled. "We couldn't come up to the girls' rooms, of course, but after your – ah – strange behaviour during the Ouija board game, we thought we ought to check on you and see if you were all right. Luckily, Ginny came down at that moment and we asked her to fetch you. But she said you weren't in your room or anywhere about. So naturally I started searching while Ron ran for Dumbledore. He asked us when we had last seen you – going to your room – but Parvati and Lavender said you hadn't come up to bed at all, when we woke them up." He shrugged. "Dumbledore did some spell on the stairs – they don't seem to turn into a slide for him – and discovered that you had been launched into time by an accident with your wand. Apparently, Godric Gryffindor was a great time-traveller and created a sort of portal on the stairway of the girls' room that could by accessed by a certain wand movement. So Dumbledore and McGonagall spent about an hour creating an illegal Time Portkey and sent us through time with it, to find you and bring you back, because they suspected even your superior intelligence wouldn't be able to work out this problem."

"They have such faith in you," Sirius grinned at Hermione.

Hermione tried desperately to ignore him while she attempted to sift and understand what Harry had just explained to her. She finally did comprehend the situation, and also noticed that Harry was in the strange mood: he was happier than he had been in recent days, but he also seemed a little torn. As if he was thrilled Sirius had communicated with them through the Ouija board, but at the same time was rather upset to realize that nothing made up for not having his godfather. She knew how he felt: Sirius the spirit was just not the same ...

And Harry's feelings were exactly what Hermione had feared. He was happier, yes, but he wouldn't be for long. Tomorrow or the day-after, he would be crushed and upset again, realizing that nothing was good enough but Sirius Black himself.

She shot the man in question a furious look, and then said, "Well ... I suggest we get going then."

"Hang on," Harry was looking around interestedly, "Why can't Ron and I take a look around this future of ours? It's only fair, isn't it?"

"You can't." Hermione gritted her teeth. "Don't abuse Dumbledore's trust."

Harry huffed. "Dumbledore!"

"I – think we should go, Harry," Ron interrupted tentatively, clearly uneasy at the thought of being in a place where people they knew at present were most likely dead (indeed, he didn't even know if he was around and Ron preferred to remain in the dark about when and where he was going to meet his maker, thank you very much). "There's stuff to do back in our time, anyway."

"Yeah, all right."

Harry took the Portkey out of his inner jacket pocket. It was, Hermione observed, a sock. Harry blinked and started to laugh. "Sorry! This is my Uncle Vernon's." He threw it aside in distaste and pulled out what looked like an ordinary roll of aluminium foil. Hermione, who was still reeling from the smell of Uncle Vernon's sock, eyes the foil suspiciously. Sirius was collapsed with laughter. He just managed to grab a hold of Hermione's shoulder as the three teenagers grasped the foil and counted the seconds down to when the Portkey would whisk them back to their own time. Eight ... seven ... six ... five ... Hermione stifled her despair at leaving her son behind ... four ... three ... two ... this was it, her last chance to take a look around the Hogwarts of the future, for she would never see it again ... one ... zero ... a force grasped her by the navel and yanked her about. The Portkey was working – they were whirling around in space and time and energy, and she was ready to throw up (she was not a fan of rollercoasters, Knight Buses, Portkeys or Floo Powder – her Muggle breeding sometimes really showed through) –

And then it stopped.

They had returned to their own time.

Hermione blinked, and flushed to the roots of her hair as she saw that she was in the empty Gryffindor common-room and that Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall were standing over her and looking down at her like eagles. Hermione finally understood what Sirius must have felt while standing at the Golden Gates.

"H-Hello," she managed weakly, smiling her biggest smile.

"Miss Granger, if I were not more convinced of your intelligence, I would strongly recommend you to St. Mungo's straightaway," said Professor McGonagall, but her eyes betrayed amusement as well as relief at her safe return.

"But Professor, I – "

"No excuses. I would be tempted to take five points from Gryffindor for reckless time-travelling, which indeed would be lenient – "

Hermione noticed, affronted, that Harry and Ron (and Sirius) were doubled over laughing behind Professor McGonagall, clearly desperate to make the most of an exceedingly rare situation. Hermione never got told off and Harry and Ron were innocent bystanders at the same time! They hastily straightened their faces (although Sirius felt no compulsion to do so, aggravating man) when McGonagall turned around, and then Professor Dumbledore spoke up:

"Come now, Minerva," he said, his blue eyes twinkling, "Perhaps you are being a little harsh on Miss Granger. After all, one can hardly blame a student for slipping on the stairs and allowing her wand to perform an unheard-of spell. I have no doubt that Miss Granger was utterly bewildered upon arriving at her destination."

"That's an understatement, Professor," said Hermione fervently.

"We brought her back safely," Ron interjected hopefully, "A rescue mission. Don't you think, Professor McGonagall, that that should warrant five points each for Harry and me – ?"

While this point was being heatedly debated between Harry and Ron, and their Head of House, Professor Dumbledore moved over towards Hermione who had finally managed to climb to her feet and was dusting off her robes. He said quietly: "Whatever you may have seen or known in the future, Miss Granger, you must know that under normal circumstances a Memory Charm is required to be performed so that you don't wreak havoc on the balance of time. But I place great value on your judgment. I want you to think over what you discovered carefully, and then tell me whether you would recommend I perform the Charm. After all, sometimes ... things are changed for the best."

Hermione nodded, her throat tight: "I think you must perform the – "

"No, no, Hermione. Think about it. I shall ask you again."

Dumbledore straightened up, winked slightly, and turned to McGonagall to suggest that their repair to his office for a large brandy. Soon the two teachers had swept away, and Hermione was left with Harry, Ron and Sirius. To avoid being asked about the Ouija board incident, Hermione smiled and said, "So ... has there been any news?"

Sirius was contemplating possible ways to cause some hilarious chaos when he heard a soft musical sound from beside him. He turned and jumped violently: St. Peter himself was standing beside him. His eyes rested thoughtfully, almost gently, on the three teenagers for a long moment and then he turned to the assigned guardian angel. "I know where you've been," he said to Sirius, "And although travelling through time is dangerous and illegal, that negative point has been erased by the positive point you earned by proving your devotion to your charge by protecting her in another realm and ensuring her safe return."

"Oh," said Sirius, extremely relieved. He'd been certain he was going straight to hell when he had seen Peter appear in front of him.

However, the saint looked troubled. "Come with me, Mr Black," he said slowly, "There's trouble brewing in the Underworld, and I'm afraid it may have disastrous consequences. There are several things I must talk to you about now. Your charge will be protected by other angels for the next half an hour while I take you back to the Gates." He extended a hand. "Come along now."

And although he deeply resented being spoken to as if he were a child (and was going to say so at first opportunity), Sirius went with Peter, feeling a distinct sense of foreboding.

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Hermione yawned and ate another marshmallow straight off of the Gryffindor common-room fire, staring at Sirius as he reappeared with a mixture of exhaustion, exasperation and intense curiosity. She also couldn't help noticing (again) just how handsome he really was. She looked at the slightly drawn face and dark-black eyes, darkened by Azkaban, and her gaze moved lower down the sun-bronzed throat to the strong shoulders and chest ... Hermione closed her eyes. Since when did she behave like – well – like a normal teenage girl? She swallowed, and fought to keep her cool about her. "Well?" she asked. "I assume the reason you abandoned me was because there's some heavenly crisis," she winced at her own pun.

"Damned right there is," said Sirius, sitting down opposite her.

"So what did Peter say then? What's the matter?"

"It seems that Cerberus is on the loose. He's Hades' lapdog – literally. Anyway, apparently Hades is really bent on having my soul – " Sirius coughed slightly, and Hermione rolled her eyes – Sirius would be proud of something like that! Then he continued: "And because he wants my soul, he's sent Cerberus off to ensure that he gets it. According to Peter, he can't just snatch my soul off the earth because the power of the Golden Gaters is behind it. But there is one way ..."

"I see," Hermione said quietly, and suddenly, she did: "Hades told Cerberus to make sure you fail your task. That way, you don't get the tipping points and you'll go to Hell. So Cerberus is out to sabotage your attempts to protect me from V-Voldemort."

Sirius smiled crookedly at her. "That's the general idea."

"Oh dear!" she gasped suddenly, almost springing out of her chair in the shock of it: "That was how V-Voldemort knew about Vance, Tonks and Dung! Cerberus must have snuck the information to him, to ensure that my guard is out of the way." Her eyes filled with angry tears. "Oh, the monster! A woman died because of him, and Tonks and Dung are in captivity! He's awful!"

"That's why he's in hell," Sirius reminded her dryly. "He's a demon."

"And you might end up there! Oh, Sirius."

"Not if I can help it," said Sirius grimly, "Do you think I'm really going to let some multi-headed sorry excuse for a canine sabotage my chances of protecting you from Voldemort? Hah! I'll show him what a real canine is supposed to be like. Git."

"Sirius, what did you mean when you said I don't have to die?"

"Right ... now listen to me," he said seriously, staring intently at her. "Your death is three years into the future. Something to do with hallucinations about seeing the Grim, that you claim has been haunting you, right? Well, it doesn't have to happen. You know about it now. You don't have to make the mistake of leaving the house on the night of the storm in three years' time. It's quite simple."

"I can't do that, Sirius! The balance of time – "

"That doesn't apply, damn it!" His voice was forceful, angry. "You just listen to me. We're in the present now. The future has not yet happened. None of that has happened yet. It was only a possible future that would unfold from our predictable actions today. But if you make different choices, you don't have to die, and the future will be different."

"That's still interfering with time," Hermione protested, "I'm supposed to have a Memory Charm done on me so that I don't remember anything I saw or did in the future. It'll cause havoc to time if I play with it by changing things that have happened. I can't do that!"

"Yes, you can!" Sirius growled, "Because it hasn't happened yet. The choices are still open. I'm not going to let you die, damn you."

'Because it hasn't happened yet' ... yes, he had a point. She nearly laughed out loud as she realized the dilemma she was facing. Should she do the right thing and have the Memory Charm done on herself, thus die in three years' time? Or should she take the risk, break magical law, and live? To exist or nor to exist ... 'to be or not to be – that is the question'.

Shakespeare, she thought, had brains.

Hermione stared at Sirius again, and the thoughts about her death and life faded – for a long moment, she just stared at him and tried to sort out how she was feeling. There was hurt, hope, helplessness, despair, grief, happiness ... oh, she was going mad. How – how – could she have been so stupid as to feel this way for Sirius Black, her best friend's godfather and incidentally, a dead man. She was supposed to be helping him on his road to redemption, and instead here she was – falling hard for him. It was terrible. It was a disaster. Her heart had already cracked when he died, it would surely shatter irreparably when she lost him again. She looked down at her hands, blinking away tears. And besides, it wasn't even as if Sirius could have any feelings for a sixteen-year-old bookworm.

"What's wrong?"

His voice, concerned and puzzled, started her.

She looked up sharply. "N-nothing! I'm fine, Sirius."

"Liar."

"Oh!" she gasped, "How dare you – ?"

He moved so quickly it was like a blur; he was up and out of his chair and had crossed the space between them to kneel down in front of her armchair. He was much taller than she was, and still dwarfed her as she sat small and insignificant in the huge chair. His hands were on the arms of the chair, caging her in. Her heart began to beat terribly fast.

"I dare," said Sirius in typical Marauder fashion, but there was a strange look in his eyes, "Now ... tell me the truth. What's the matter? You don't honestly think I'm going to let the bloody Dark Lord get anywhere near you, do you?"

Hermione stared at him. "No – no, of course I don't," she shrank back slightly in the armchair. He was so close ... "I know you'd never risk that happening – because then you won't – won't get to Heaven – "

Sirius's look of astonishment was priceless. "What?"

"Well, you know – "

"You think that's why I'm hell-bent on keeping you safe? So that I can go to Heaven?"

"Well, of course that's why! Is – isn't it?" she added doubtfully.

He glared at her. "Hermione, you're supposed to be clever."

"It isn't?" her mouth fell open.

Sirius looked at her for a long moment. His eyes darkened slightly, and his gaze had dropped from piercing her own eyes to her mouth, which was slightly open. Hermione saw the burning intentness of his gaze and was amazed that her heart hadn't exploded out of her rib cage, it was pounding so hard. Then Sirius reached out with one hand to touch her cheek. He uttered an oath, damning everything in colourful language, and kissed her. Hermione was so stunned that she didn't even realize she was responding until she felt the heat racing through her entire body.

His hands were on her waist now and she was leaning towards him, kissing him back. Sirius felt the entire world spin around and wondered whether it was just being dead that made him feel so alive – or whether it was just Hermione. She brought him to life, damn it. His rational thought stuttered back, and he jerked back, his breathing shallow. Her eyes were wide, and she blushed hotly as she stared back at him. She looked adorable, but he didn't dare let his thoughts travel on from there. What had he just done? She was Harry's best friend, little more than a child? And he had nothing – nothing but death! What had he just done?! He swallowed hard, brutally suppressing the ache growing inside him, and he shook his head.

"I – I'm sorry. I didn't mean – "

"Sirius ..." Hermione said softly, unable to believe what she was about to say, "Do that again."

His jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

"Kiss me again."

He didn't need to be asked twice. But all it did was make the ache inside stronger, and made him realize that the first time had not been a fluke. No, he couldn't do this. It – was – wrong. She was young and vital and alive. He was a dead, damned man. This – was – wrong.

He felt the heat of her body sear his fingers through her robes, and the soft warmth of her lips against his, and knew he was drowning.

And he fought for the surface.

"This," he choked out, "Can't happen. You know it can't."

He backed away. Hermione nodded and said softly: "I know. I know it can't."

"I need to take a walk," Sirius raked a hand through his hair, anger and frustration burning in his eyes and making his jaw tight and clenched. "You stay here. Don't you dare go anywhere." With this command, he turned and marched out of the startled portrait's hole. The Fat Lady let out a surprised squawk and he was gone.

His mind was full of racing images as he walked, and he forced himself to focus on one: James. James ... if he completed his task and reached Heaven, he would see James again. He and his best friend could laugh and talk and poke fun at each other and watch over Harry together again. James ... he suddenly felt a pang of longing and smiled. It could happen. He could have his best friend again.

Hermione remained weakly in the chair. Had she really just been kissed by Sirius Black? Only Viktor had ever kissed her before, and that had been absolutely nothing compared to what she had just been through. Dear stars above, she was completely insane and so was he! But it hurt – it hurt to know what they could have had if only – if only ... her mind froze, and she refused to let it go on. But it fought. If they had had the chance to be together, they could have been unstoppable. Perhaps Sirius didn't love her, but he cared about her and wanted her enough ... or at least, she thought he did.

She shook her head, and her train of thought shifted. She was thinking about Time again, but not about herself and about her own death. She had already made her choice about that. Life just wasn't worth living without Sirius – hadn't she realized that months ago, when he had fallen through the Veil and she had woken up in the hospital wing to find that all her dreams had crumbled to dust? Time, dust and flies ... all she would have was time, dust and flies if she lived. But she couldn't break Harry's heart again. There had to be some way she could soften the blow, make sure he had something to live for again. If she could somehow make sure Hogwarts wasn't attacked, Lupin wasn't tortured to madness, Fred wasn't attacked by a Dementor ... it would all make Harry, Ron and the others happier in the future, and more capable of getting over her death. Yes, if she could somehow prevent all those other deaths and tortures – starting from Dung's in his current captivity – Harry would be happier. As it was, what did he have to live for? Possibly only his wife, his son and his godson.

Hermione's eyes teared. What had he said? Something about it being strange ... "I've got a godfather, and now I've got a godson. I am a godfather."

Her mind halted, and she stiffened.

What was it about that sentence that nagged at her?

She searched, and analysed ...

And suddenly, it hit her.

Oh my God. This is impossible.

How?

And what else had Harry said to her in his office last night (sort of)? Something about Reed's father being his only saving grace, or some such thing, hadn't he?

How?

But that meant – that meant –

Oh. My. God.

Hermione pushed it out of her mind. She would go crazy. There was just too much to think about. She had to forget about that for now, she just had to forget about it and focus on the problem at hand. How to save all those lives – Cho, Padma, Terry, Seamus, and all the others? How to save Professor Lupin and Fred and keep Ron from reaching inches from death and make sure Professor McGonagall wasn't confined to a wheelchair anymore? How to accomplish that?

And then the answer struck her. It was suddenly, swiftly, so simple that she nearly gasped aloud. Of course! Hypothetical situation, strictly: what if Voldemort was to capture her? What if he was to take her to his lair, and Dumbledore (who probably already knew where Voldemort was lurking) alerted the others. She knew Harry and Ron well. They would come after her. She fiercely ignored what might happen to her while in Voldemort's clutches, but instead reflected that if Voldemort did capture her, Harry would fight him, and perhaps kill him. After all, she knew from future experiences that Harry was inherently the stronger of the two wizards. And if that was to happen and Voldemort was killed, say, in a week's time, and the Death Eaters all rounded up and incarcerated or killed, at the same time – then Hogwarts would not be attacked, none of those victims would die or go mad or soulless like they had – and everyone would live happily ever after ...

And Sirius ... Sirius would come after her as well, and he would protect her. And even if she was killed, she knew Sirius would sooner kiss Snape than let anything happen to Harry. His attempt at protecting her, and his protection of Harry during the fight with Voldemort – it would earn him his points, and he would go to Heaven! She nearly smiled, but there were tears in her eyes. Yes, this was an excellent plan. It tied all the strings. And as for her ... in war, sacrifices had to be made ... and as long as he protected Harry with his 'life' (which he would, she knew), she would see Sirius again when she died – if she died –

Her mind was made up. Hermione stood up. It was time to go to bed.

And in three days' time, at their next Hogsmeade weekend where they would be allowed out of the castle – well, she would give Voldemort exactly what he wanted:

Herself.

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TBC.

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A/N: Please, please review and I really must thank everyone who has already reviewed! It's the support and encouragement that really puts the words up on this page!! Anyway, enjoy the chapter and the next one will be posted as soon as it can be completed.

Captain Oblivious: yes, you can borrow Reed, but I'm rather attached to him so remember he's only on loan and take good care of him! ;-)