The Potter Theory

[ He gave her a funny look, his mouth curling sceptically, "Tea is your plan?" ]

Hermione knelt down on the hearth and threw a handful of the glittering powder into the grate making the green flames burst into life, licking high on the sooty stone.

"Madam Lincoln, Department of Mysteries, Ministry of Magic," she said clearly. Her head spun through the flames and as it did she practised her story one more time. She'd examined the time turner and decided on her story while sitting next to the newly stunned Sirius on the sofa. She was reasonably confident she could be believable. The real issue however was going to be convincing the head of Magical Time to help her fix a forward travelling time turner she did not know.

When Madam Lincoln's office whirled into view, and her head stopped spinning, Hermione called, "Madam Lincoln, are you free?"

There was rustling from the desk and Madam Lincoln appeared, her scarlet glasses perched on her nose as always, her spikey white hair glinting under the light from the gaslamp that hung from the ceiling.

"Hermione!" she said in surprise. "I thought you were on your holidays?" She came around the desk to kneel down beside the fire.

"I am. I'm in France, the weather is beautiful," Hermione said, preparing herself for the lie. "But I've come across the most peculiar thing. I wondered if you could help me?"

"Of course," Madam Lincoln said. "Nothing illegal, I hope?"

Hermione gave a nervous little smirk, "I'll have to write up my own arrest warrant if it were. It's a time turner, but it's not like any I've seen before. It seems to have come forward in time."

"How on earth can you know that?" Madam Lincoln asked, astonished.

"It has a date engraved on it," Hermione said, she'd found the tiny engraving, almost like a minter's mark, pressed into the outer golden ring. This part was the only truthful thing in Hermione's story, the rest was total fiction. "It says, F.P. 1975, so I used Primus Incantatem, the results showed its components were only enchanted 6 years ago."

This charm was normally used for proving innocence or guilt in a trial – proving when an object had magic cast on it was often a big help. She thought it was a suitable solution to the lie she needed Madam Lincoln to believe.

"I deduced that it meant it was created in Seventy Five, but not used to come here until six years later." She paused, wondering if Madam Lincoln would accept this, "or I suppose it could mean that it was created in Seventy Five, and came forward right away and has been sitting abandoned on the side of the road for 6 years, but it doesn't show signs of being exposed to the elements for long."

"Did you say F.P?" Madam Lincoln asked suspiciously, this apparently meant something to her. "And there was no witch or wizard accompanying this time turner?" She definitely seemed cautious now. Hermione supposed she should be. She'd just implied there was an unknown time traveller wandering around the French countryside – this was half true; he was unknown to Madam Lincoln. But he wasn't wandering anywhere if Hermione could help it.

"No," Hermione said, "but I wondered how it could even be possible. I didn't know the Unspeakables had developed forward time travel."

"They haven't." Madam Lincoln replied. "That's why I thought it was a strange assumption to make." She paused, appraising Hermione over her glasses. "Do you know much about the history of time travel research, Hermione?"

"A little," Hermione said. "Obviously, it's a pretty closely guarded secret. I did look into things while Nott was on trial, but there wasn't a lot of definite evidence"

Theodore Nott, an Unspeakable of dubious character, had been put in Azkaban earlier in the year after it had been discovered that he had been privately working on a time turner that could take the user back many years. It had been a huge scandal, and very stressful for Hermione. The Aurors had done an excellent job under Harry and Ron to get him caught with proof, but the trial had been a lot of work, with a lot of scrutiny from the media. 'Lack of open government, Ministerial secrets, and corruption,' the papers said.

"Yes," said Madam Lincoln regretfully. "We were all so shocked, as you know. Theo was truly brilliant, such a shame what a great mind can do to people. I'm still astounded that it works. I really didn't think it would be possible. In regard to forwards travel however, there was always a rumour about the Potter Theory, but no one has ever managed to make it work."

"The Potter Theory?" Hermione repeated, shocked, before the first part of what Madam Lincoln had said sunk in. Nott's time turner had worked? Hermione hadn't known that. How had they kept that a secret? Bloody DoM, she thought, they never gave the full truth.

"Oh no," Madam Lincoln dashed her hand knowing that Hermione was thinking of Harry. She had been until the revelation that Nott had succeeded. " Fleamont Potter, he's the famous Potter's Grandfather. Not that he ever met the boy, he died before his own son was even married. Fleamont was an Unspeakable. It was many years ago now, back when I had just started here. Sadly when he died his notes vanished, no one ever saw them again, even if his theory is still mentioned occasionally."

This was striking news. But it did give her an inkling of how Sirius had come to be here, and why on seeing the broken time turner the first words out of his mouth had been 'James is going to kill me'. Had the boys stolen it from James's father?

"Do you know anything about this theory?" Hermione asked.

"Only that it had to do with the order of the enchantments placed on the timepiece. I'd love to see this one you've found. Would you like me to take a look at it for you? It's not Minstry property, since you've found it outside Britain, but I'd still be interested in having a look."

"I'll bring it back with me," Hermione said, hoping that this wouldn't be necessary. With this new revelation that the Ministry had a time turner that could travel backwards many years, she thought she would be able to avoid it. She wanted Sirius back in Eighty-one before the week was out.

"Ugh, not cool." Sirius groaned, after she enervated him back to consciousness. He scowled, or tried to, even as he was blinking dazedly at her. Multiple stunnings in one day, after a road crash, probably wasn't very good for him, Hermione realised. "I feel violated."

"Well, I've got some good news," she said, ignoring his discontent.

"Can they fix it?" Sirius asked, his expression less pained as he focused properly on her once again. "Your mates at the Ministry?"

"I don't think they will need to," Hermione said. "It turns out that there is already a time turner at the Ministry we could use. I just need to figure out how to get it."

"Will it go back far enough?" He asked, fidgeting with his bound hands, twisting them like the magical rope would work loose. It wouldn't, Hermione was very good at restraining people. "My one was pretty rare." he said, as he gave up.

"You mean, Mr. Potter's one?" she asked archly.

The guilty look on his face said it all. His lips twisted before he spoke. "How did you know that?"

"Madam Lincoln, Head of Magical Time told me that the Potter Theory is still studied, but no one has ever managed to make it work."

Sirius nodded in reluctant confirmation. "Mr. Potter didn't want the Ministry knowing when he figured it out," he said, "or that's what James said anyway. He didn't trust the Ministry."

Hermione found this very ironic, she had just spent six months involved in an intense trial, putting someone in prison for the same crime as Mr Potter had committed. And there he was forty five years ago, deciding that the Ministry couldn't be trusted.

"I think this one will go back far enough," she said carefully. "There's only one way to find out."

"Are you going to steal it?" He asked eagerly, and Hermione was a little disturbed by the light of adventure kindling in his eyes.

"No," she said, though if it came to it, she probably could go and steal it. But she didn't think it would come to that. "No," she said again, "I have an idea." She stood from the sofa, deciding she needed a cup of tea before the next floo call she was going to have to make. Harry was going to think she'd lost her mind.

"Did you want a cup of tea?'' she asked him.

Sirius gave her a funny look, his mouth curling sceptically. "Tea is your plan?"

"No," she laughed. "I just want one."

"Oh right," he grinned too, still looking confused. "No thanks," he said.

Hermione made her cuppa in the kitchen and then came back to the sitting room. She'd have to think about food soon, she had some, probably enough for both of them for dinner, but tomorrow she'd have to go out to the supermarket. Depending on how her plan worked out.

"So why are you on holiday by yourself?" Sirius asked after a few long moments of silence.

She glanced at him, he was watching her closely, but seemed genuinely interested. "My children are at their grandparents' for the summer," Hermione said cautiously. "They have lots of cousins, it's a great time for them there."

"What about your … husband?" He asked, his tone uncertain on the last word. His eyes darted to her left hand, which was wrapped around her tea cup, she still wore her wedding band. Hermione thought he must be trying to figure her out, she didn't blame him, it's what she would do if their roles were reversed.

Hermione didn't really know how to answer the question about Ron. She didn't fancy flat out lying to him, but the truth was not something she'd shared; more than a year of separation with divorce papers in the works. Only Harry and Ginny and a few other trusted friends really knew what was going on.

"We're having a rest," Hermione said eventually. "Our careers are exhausting and it's been hard on our relationship."

He looked understanding, still watching. Hermione thought again that she would do the same in his position. Find out as much as she could about the person who held her captive. She cringed a little at this. He wasn't really her captive…was he? Her Auror strength incarcerous suggested otherwise.

"What does your husband do?" he asked then, confirming her theory of information gathering.

"He's head strategist for the Auror Department," she told him, deciding to stick to the truth.

Sirius gave a quiet whistle, apparently impressed. "He must be a clever guy."

Hermione smiled, despite everything that passed between her and Ron, she was proud of him. "Yes, he is. Completely idiotic at times, but clever."

Sirius smiled in return, broader than before, his white teeth showing. "That's how people describe me," his eyebrow twitched up, as though he was proud of this. "And what about you? What's your job?"

"I'm head of the DMLE." The truth again, Hermione couldn't see the point in lying.

"Circe's tits!" Sirius exclaimed, leaning back, shock all over his face. "Are you really?"

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at the unexpected reaction. "Yes, for the last five years. It's a great position, I've managed to instigate real change for the people who needed it. Wizarding society was so dominated by the undercurrent of pureblood elitism, but now, two decades after Voldemort's defeat we finally have true equality." Hermione focused on her tea cup, slightly abashed as she finished speaking. Even to her ears she sounded like a politician.

But Sirius was grinning at her, not in that cheeky way she'd seen so far. There was much more honesty in his expression now, he looked genuinely happy, and more than a little awed.

"I can't imagine it," he said quietly. "Even in the Order it's mostly pure bloods who are in charge, and definitely at the Ministry. I don't think they do it on purpose, but there just don't seem to be any muggleborns with enough clout to get things done, you know?"

"I do," Hermione agreed. "I'm the first muggleborn to ever hold the head of DMLE position, and there has never been a muggleborn Minister."

"Maybe it will be you," Sirius quipped. "DMLE is normally a stepping stone to Minister isn't it?"

"It is," Hermione said, "but I never wanted to go that far. Affecting actual change is much easier from my position now."

"You sound like the sort of person who should be Minister," he said fervently. "Not like all the glory hogs we normally have to deal with. Although Bagnold's not terrible… she's not playing around with Voldemort anymore," he said thoughtfully. "The Aurors have pretty much got free reign, it's a bit daunting to tell you the truth."

"I know," Hermione said. "I've read about the – " she paused. "The war," She finished lamely. She'd nearly said "the months before Voldemort fell."

Sirius must have left a dark time, she knew the Ministry was falling apart, they were doing anything to try and put a stop to Voldemort's seeming endless strength. They didn't know the end was right around the corner. Five months from when Sirius had left Voldemort would be gone.

"What aren't you saying?" Sirius asked, his shrewd eyes on her again. They were a bit disturbing actually, she felt like he could read her a bit too easily. The Sirius she'd known hadn't really been like that. But then the Sirius she'd known had spent most of his time with a glass of whiskey in his hand too. Not great for insightful deductions, whiskey.

"I can't tell you." Hermione said, "there are things that need to happen for Voldemort to be properly defeated, and some of them aren't good," understatement of the century, "and if you know, you'll try and stop them from happening."

"You don't know that," he shot back, insulted. "I'm capable."

"I do know that actually, I knew you well enough Sirius. You'll interfere in this, and you'll think it's helping but it won't be. Just trust me."

"Well you've just told me one thing about my future," he said, mutinously. "I'm dead before I turn sixty, you knew me, if I was still alive you'd be saying know."

"True," Hermione confirmed sadly. "I'm sorry. I tried very hard to prevent your death at the time. But it wasn't to be."

"You were there?" he asked, a strange blank expression on his face now. She wondered what was going through his mind, talking of his own death, upsetting to say the least.

"Yes," she said, because it was easier than saying, 'I was unconscious for your actual death, but I tried to stop Harry going to the Department of Mysteries in the first place, but he's a stubborn idiot and I failed.'

"When?" he asked, as casually as if asking the time. His reactions were so unpredictable, she didn't quite know how to take him.

"I'm not telling you that," Hermione said, with half a laugh at the ridiculous notion, a person can't know when they are going to die. He was still watching her, clearly wanting more information, she supposed she could give him half the story. "But, it was Bellatrix Lestrange who killed you."

"Bella?" Sirius looked both surprised, and something else. Disappointed, Hermione realised.

"Sorry," Hermione said again, with a bit more feeling, wondering if it was the family betrayal that caused his reaction. "She was quite deranged after a long term in Azkaban."

Sirius shrugged, apparently unaffected after all. "She was deranged at birth," he said, "but it can't happen for a while yet. Not if you were old enough to be there, got a few years up my sleeve."

"Right again," she said, feeling sad once more. He might be alive for another fifteen years, but he'd only get five more months of real life.

Hermione finished her tea, and Sirius seemed to have run out of questions. She stood up again. "I'm making another Floo call," she told him.

And without warning, in a flash of movement he'd twisted his upper body around, put his bound hands on the back of the couch and vaulted himself over it, crashing onto the stone floor behind it. There was a beat of silence, and then-

"Owww," his winded voice echoed up from out of sight.

She leaned over to see him lying flat on his back, dark hair splayed out around his head on the tiled floor as he cringed at the impact.

"What on earth was that about?" she asked, she could feel her eyebrows were high in disbelief.

He was a lunatic

"I didn't want you to stun me again," he said sheepishly, still wincing. "I forgot my shoulder isn't right, my arm collapsed, ruining my daring escape," he scowled up at her ruefully.

"For g-goodness sake." Hermione was trying very hard not to laugh.

"Please don't," he said, meekly, holding up his bound hands. "It makes me feel weird."

"Okay," Hermione agreed, suddenly guilt ridden at the pleading expression he wore, hiding behind his hands from her dastardly wand. "No more stunning. But you're to sit on this sofa and not move until I'm done. Then I'll organise us some dinner."

He rolled his eyes, clearly not impressed to be bossed about, but didn't complain as he got gingerly to his feet. The truth was, Hermione was enjoying this strange bright Sirius. As much as she'd been looking forward to her peaceful holiday, having it commandeered in this dramatic fashion had broken her out of the monotony of her stressful life.

A/N: Thanks to the four people that left a comment on the previous chapter! So nice to know that people are enjoying this. xx

and Thanks to K for all her editing help. Highly appreciated.