DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.

Summary: Two worlds, two different times, two different people and yet they are connected through a journal. Love extends beyond time to bring two people together in The Black House. SBHG

Beta: Meridith-R.E.M. Thank you!

NOTE: This is a repost because Fanfiction won't let some of you read it. I know exactly how you feel since I can't open up the updates to some of the stories that I am currently reading. I'm sorry that you couldn't open it up.

READ ME! Alright, so I gave into temptation and started another story. I launched a sort of 'pilot' chapter in my live journal so if you guys have time, head over there really quick and check it out. Be sure to tell me whether you think I should continue. The link can be found in my profile.

Chapter 3

It had been exactly three weeks since she had found the journal. Three weeks since she had last saw Harry or Ron. Three weeks since she had stumbled upon one more person whom she could trust with her deepest and darkest secrets.

Hermione had taken to life at the Black House. Her normal fast paced life had slowed down considerably. She still did a lot of private research, but she didn't devote every waking moment to it as she did before. She spent more time just kicking back and, though she never admitted it, she knew that her new lifestyle was because of her stranger in the journal.

She was currently stretched out on the couch waiting for Ginny to drop by. The youngest redhead Weasley had owled earlier that morning informing Hermione that she was coming by and to not even think about leaving. In truth, Hermione had been avoiding Ginny since their little discussion three weeks ago.

The door buzzer went off and, before she could even rise from her seat, the door was opening. She leaned back on the couch, silently thanking whoever had came up with the idea to throw a can of paint thinner on the portrait of Mrs. Black.

"You will never believe the traffic outside," the redhead was grumbling as she walked into the room. "It was like every muggle in England was on the street today. Do you realize how hard it is to enter a secret house when there is a ton of people outside."

Hermione offered her a smile. "At least they're outside. When Voldemort lived, people were too afraid to even step outside of their homes. Now they are starting to venture out; they are starting to forget. We really should be thankful."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I am thankful," the redhead replied. "It's just that I'd be more thankful if they would have done it at a better time."

"Oh Ginny," Hermione sighed, exasperated. "Anyways, as you can tell, I'm tired, so if we could just please discuss the matter which you wish to discuss, I'd be thankful."

Ginny's blue eyes narrowed on her firend, but she took a seat by the hearth. "Hermione, I haven't seen you for three weeks. First you dropped the bombshell that Harry had gave you the Black House, then you tell me about some mysterious journal with a guy in it who talked to you, and then you disappear."

Hermione merely quirked an eyebrow. "And?"

"What do you mean 'and'?" Ginny demanded with frustration tinting her voice. "I want to know what the bloody hell happened, Hermione!"

She shrugged this time. "I'm still talking to him."

Hermione had never thought a person could level her with a stare for that long without blinking. "Fine, I still talk to him…a lot. I don't know, Ginny. I like him, I trust him. I feel like I can tell him everything and he listens."

"I listen."

"I know that and I'm glad that you're here, but there are some things that I can't tell you. He doesn't live in this year so it's not like I have to worry about him spilling my secrets…no one would ever believe him."

"So he is from a different time."

"1978 actually."

"Wow, twenty years." Ginny paused. "Hermione, how do you know he's not some Death Eater tricking you?"

"I don't really," she answered with a thoughtful look, "but I trust him, Ginny. For some insane reason, I trust him."

Ginny studied her closely. "You have feelings for him, don't you?"

Hermione gave a dry laugh. "It's ironic, isn't it? The one man I can never meet is the one man I want to give my whole heart to." She looked at her hands and added softly, "I don't even know his name."

"Ask him."

Hermione looked at her friend, confused. "What?"

"You heard me, ask him. Actually, no, just tell him your name," she added on an after thought. "That shows that you're willing to take the first step."

"Ginny, we're living twenty years apart."

"That's just a minor detail."

"I don't know…"

"Just do it. I mean, who's to say he isn't still alive?" Ginny's eyes sparkled. "He could still be alive out there somewhere and you could meet him. That's always a possibility."

"But he could be dead," Hermione pointed out.

Ginny merely shrugged. "You'll never know until you ask."

Hermione looked up at her friend, slowly nodding her head. Without a word, she watched as Ginny gathered up her things and left. Hermione's thoughts were on the journal.

Would it really hurt to tell him her name? Would he tell her his?

There were so many possibilities and only one way to find out…

XoXoX

Sirius frowned slightly as he read over the letter he had just received from St. Mungo's. His mum had finally died and the Black House was entrusted to him, at least until Regulus came of age. However, not one thing in the letter mentioned what would happen when Regulus did come of age.

Not that he wanted the house, of course; it could burn down for all he cared.

No, he just liked everything to be in writing so there could be no cause for arguing later on. And with the family he had, he figured that there would be a lot of arguing over who got what.

He sat the letter down and rubbed his chin. Regulus wasn't seventeen yet so unless he could convince his younger brother to go stay somewhere else, he would have to move back home to take care of him.

There were a lot of worse things, he reckoned, but the Black House was an unwanted memory. He didn't want to return…not yet.

"Sirius? You up, mate?" James called through the oak door. Though it was at least one in the afternoon, it wasn't unusual for Sirius to still be in bed. It was the weekend after all.

"Yeah, I'm up. Come on in."

He waited as the door slowly creaked open and an untidy mop of black hair poked its way through. "What are you doing in here still? We figured that you'd come play a little Quidditch with us as soon as you got up."

James was smiling and Sirius hated breaking his good mood, but he figured that he should tell him the news he had just received, sooner rather than later.

"Mum's dead."

"Oh." The teen shifted nervously at the door. He knew that Sirius hated his mum, but he figured that it still must be hard to lose his parent. "I'm sorry…"

"It's okay," he waved him off, "we weren't that close, remember? Anyways, I'm responsible for Regulus now until he comes of age."

"Good luck with that one," James said. "I highly doubt Regulus will be all that happy with having you appointed his guardian."

Sirius merely shrugged as he stood from his chair. "He'll just have to get used to it. It's not like I wanted the position."

James nodded slowly. "True, but I don't expect he'll exactly be open minded about the whole thing. He'll blame you."

Sirius threw him a look as if to say 'I could care less' and shrugged on his jacket. "I'm going to try to convince him to go stay the rest of the holiday with a friend. That way, both of us win."

James smiled a little. "That shouldn't be too hard."

"Maybe, maybe not." Sirius gathered up a few items. "He may insist on remaining at the house just to make trouble for me. That's what I would do anyways."

James moved a little further into the room as Sirius withdrew an overnight bag from the closet. "I gather you're not coming back tonight."

"Highly doubtful," Sirius commented, now extracting clothes from the closet. "Even if Regulus does go stay with a friend, there's still some things I'll have to take care of at the house…as much as I loathe to do so."

"Then you better take this.'

Sirius turned around to find James holding out his journal. He had broke down eventually and told James everything about the mysterious girl, they were best friends after all. James understood his need to communicate with his lady from the future far better than Sirius had expected.

He took the journal from James' grasp and slowly sat down on the bed. He held it firmly in his hands, marvelling at how one book could be a connection between two times.

"Sirius," James was saying, his words slow and deliberate, "what if she's lying to you? What if it's a trick? Regulus did have your journal for a while…"

His grey eyes turned to look at his best friend. "What can I say? I trust her."

James furrowed his eyebrows as he squeezed the bridge of his nose. "But what if she's not real, Padfoot? What if it's just someone, most likely a Death Eater, pretending to be someone else to hurt you? To get to you?"

Sirius smiled at his friend and laid a hand on James' shoulder in a friendly gesture. "Don't worry about me, mate. I can handle myself."

"I don't think you understand the severity of the situation," James said in an agitated tone. "You have to think that this may be a trick. How do you know she's real?"

"She's more real to me than anything I've ever known," he stated seriously, his grey eyes never wavering from James.

The messy hair teen sighed dramatically. "Then all I can say is good luck and hope that you don't fall in love with her."

The corner of Sirius' mouth twitched up in a wry smile. "I think it's too late for that."

XoXoX

I'm so glad that you're finally here. I've had a very long and very bad day.

What happened?

I have went from being a very in depended person to becoming the guardian of the one person who probably hates me most in this world- my brother. I don't know what he's complaining about, though, it's not like I asked for our mum to suddenly die and have him left in my care.

I do well to care for myself, I really don't need another human being on my hands.

It has suddenly dawned on me why people hate lawyers, whether they be magical or muggle. The lawyer in charge of my current situation is, for lack of a better term, an ass. He had the nerve to sit there, all high and mighty, informing me of what my duty as the oldest son is though we both know what my mum thought of me.

Actually, come to think of it, the whole wizarding world knew what my mum thought of me.

I know, you're probably sitting there thinking "That's his job" and I know, I guess I just don't understand why I, the hated son, has to take care of anything.

Thank Merlin, though, that my brother went along with my suggestion that he go stay with another family until we make a more permanent decision as what to do. I really don't think I could handle him at the moment on top of everything else.

I am so sorry about your mum, your brother, and well, just about everything really. I went through similar proceedings when my parents died five months ago. Only I'm an only child so I have no siblings to think of.

Things will get better. Trust me, I know. The future may seem bleak but there is always a speck of light that shines through.

I do hope everything works out though.

Thank you.

Hermione.

What?

My name, it's Hermione.

I just…well, I just wanted to tell you. I told you before that I didn't trust you and that's why I wouldn't give you my name, but now I do.

That sounds crazy, though, doesn't it? I mean, we've never met or anything and yet I trust you…completely.

No, that doesn't sound crazy. I'm glad that you trust me because I trust you as well. We may never meet, Hermione, but we know each other and that is the important thing.

Yes, I guess you're right.

I know I am. By the way, name's Sirius

XoXoX

Hermione pulled back sharply, visibly stiffening in her seat as the black ink spread across the page. Sirius? There was only Sirius that she knew of…one who was dead.

But it sort of made sense…. She did, after all, find the journal in the Black House, the house which he had been in his possession up until his death. He was the oldest brother, he hated his family…it just made sense…

Why hadn't she put it all together before?

Forcing herself to pick up her quill, she touched the tip to the page.

Sirius Black?

Yeah, that's right. How did you know? Wait, future.

So, you do know me then, right? Or am I famous? You probably can't tell me…

Yeah, I know you. Actually, you're my best friend's godfather, but that's all I can tell you. I can't believe that I'm actually talking to you.

It's fate.

Doubt that.

Look, just remember to store the journal in the Black House or else I'll never find it.

But I'm leaving here tomorrow. Are you suggesting that I leave the book behind? But then we'll never talk until I see you in the future. I want to talk to you, Hermione. I can't leave the book behind.

You have to. Look, like you said, we'll see each other again. Just don't expect me to remember this. I won't find your journal until I'm eighteen.

Fine.

Thank you, Sirius, for being the comfort that I needed. You have taught me some very valuable lessons- most importantly that it's okay to love. Thank you for that.

I refuse to say goodbye, Hermione.

Then don't. It's not really goodbye, anyways. It's more of a 'see you later.' We will meet again, Sirius, only in person. Our paths will cross and who knows what the future will bring.

I will find you, Hermione. I promise you that I will find you.

I'm counting on it. I promise that we will not lose each other again. No matter what I have to do, I will not lose you. I love you, Sirius Black. Against my better judgement, I love you.

I love you too.

XoXoX

As Hermione closed the book, she allowed her tears to fall. Yes, they would find each other once again but he would be stolen away before she ever truly learned the truth about the journal, the truth about them. Fate could be cruel sometimes.

But she'd be damned if she would just sit by this time as fate played its little game. She was going to do something…

She replaced the journal inside of its rightful desk drawer and sealed it shut. She didn't know what brought them together but she was glad for it. She had learned to love once again, and had been loved in return.

With a new determination, she rose from her seat and walked out of the room. She had to get started…