A/N- I think we're all used to me being late at this point.

Part 1- The Return

Chapter 8

July 10th, 1995

Hermione Granger was not overly prone to nightmares, but this night, she'd woken up screaming.

Sleep hadn't come easily to her ever since they'd come back in time, but now it had seemed intent on eluding her entirely. That was in no small part due to the fact that she was now helplessly trapped in enemy territory, with no means of escape that didn't include the unravelling of everything she and Harry had been working towards.

Her arrival had been unceremonious at best. Remus had apparated them there and brought her in using a simple piece of old parchment with Dumbledore's elegant handwriting on it. Later, when her nerves hadn't been screaming at her to run, she'd made a note to herself to see if her link with Harry allowed them to bypass the fidelus. After entering she'd barely been acknowledged by the people there. This wasn't unusual, and it had suited her well. Hermione had managed to dodge interacting with anyone by feigning ill and retiring early, all the while trying not to give in to her anxiety and fear and lose control.

She'd managed to make that angle work for nearly the entire day, remaining in her room and resting. She'd only had to come out to use the loo and to suffer a few meals, which she'd barely picked at. Molly had been nearly insufferable, hovering over her and clucking about as if she actually cared about her health, but Hermione had managed to convince the woman that all she needed was to rest. It was just nerves, she'd told her. The shock of the attack earlier that week, being away from home, trauma from the end of the tournament, etc. She'd made herself seem quite the fragile thing, but it had worked. Probably better than she'd intended. A weak and traumatized Hermione was a good front.

Despite a rough first night at the Black family home where she'd slept very little and nearly come out of her skin at every sound, sleep had finally found her earlier that evening, when she'd finally begun to relax a bit after Ginny had come into their shared room and flung herself into bed. Normally the little viper would want to sit up and talk about her obsession with Harry. How would he notice her? How good of a lover would he be? How could she get his attention? It made Hermione sick just thinking about it. But she had done a decent enough job of pretending to be asleep, so she'd been left alone.

Then the dreams had started.

First, she'd dreamt of the past that was now her future. She'd relived some of the time she'd spent with Ron. Then the dream had shifted. It was all tumbling flashes of sounds, sensations, and screams. She couldn't remember much of that part. The cold, hard floor of a cell. Hands all over her body. Pain, and a voice screaming. A voice that she knew was hers, and couldn't be hers. A voice begging for someone to stop.

Then it had shifted again. Now she was in a graveyard. She knew exactly which graveyard it was. This was where Voldemort had risen from the dead. Where Harry's life had begun to end that fatefully day. Hermione saw that one day as the catalyst for all of the events that followed.

It didn't make sense though. This was the same graveyard, but not the same night. Gone were the Death Eaters and the cauldron. Only silence remained. Hermione's mind, dulled by sleep, was just starting to process that she was dreaming when she saw shapes flash past her.

Bolts of light started flashing all around her. Explosions rocked the air and shook the ground beneath her feet. The duel she was watching was like nothing she had seen. The two combatants moved with magically boosted speed, spells and curses flying everywhere. It was something to behold.

One of the curses lit the graveyard like the sun, and in that brief patch of light Hermione saw him. He was there. In that graveyard. That very night. This wasn't a dream.

There, bathed in the pale light, his face split in a snarl and his right eye blood red and glowing, was Harry Potter.

That moment was when she'd woken. The scream that tore itself from her as she bolted up was unearthly, and her arm was still outstretched, reaching for the man she loved. Trying to reach him, to help him.

She was drenched in sweat and gasping for air. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes as they darted around the room, trying to get her bearings.

"What the hell is your problem?" Ginny barked from her side of the room. Hermione had to crush the instinct to grab her wand and blow her to kingdom come. She had propped herself up on her elbows, surveying the brunette across from her, clearing having been woken by Hermione's outburst. "Some of us are trying to sleep!" Ginny said, her voice acid.

"Sorry." Hermione murmured. "Just a nightmare." She threw off her blankets and stood, sliding on the robe she'd brought from home.

"Where are you going?"

Hermione again resisted the urge to hex her as she shoved her wand into the pocket on her robe.

"To get a glass of water." She bit back. Ginny huffed in indignation, flopping back onto her side and pulling the covers up over her head.

"Fine, just be quiet when you come back. I need to get my beauty sleep for when my Harry gets here."

The way she said his name made Hermione's skin crawl, and she couldn't help the burst of magic that surged out in anger as she spoke of him so possessively. The door slammed behind her as she left hard enough to rattle the frame, Ginny's irritated yelling all but silenced by the heavy wood.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. The only time she felt even remotely safe was at night, when everyone else was sleeping and the house was quiet. The stillness brought her a sense of calm, and although she'd never let her guard down in this place, it did allow her a bit or a respite.

She padded her way down the hall and stairs, heading for the kitchen. She shivered slightly. The house had always been too cold for her liking, the sweat from her nightmare hadn't dried yet. That, combined with her bare feet, had her wishing she'd remembered to pack a pair of slippers from home and hoping that the coals in the kitchen fireplace were still lit.

When she entered the kitchen she was surprised to find the fire hadn't burned out yet. She made her way over and stood in front of it for a moment. She was so lost in thought that she didn't even notice the man watching her from the table.

"Couldn't sleep, Ms. Granger?"

Hermione whirled around, brown hair whipping as her hand shot to her wand.

Sirius Black stared back at her, his eyebrow raised. He was half sitting in the chair at far end of the table, head propped up by his right hand as he twirled a glass of firewhiskey in his left. The amber liquid caught in the firelight.

Of all the people Hermione had expected to see over the last day and a half, he hadn't been among them. She hadn't seen him when she arrived, nor when she had come down for meals the previous day. Her heart ached at the sight of him, and she couldn't help but smile as she walked over and sat down on the bench to his left. He'd seated himself at the head of the table in the large chair nobody used. The sadness of it wasn't lost on her.

"No." She said softly. "Yourself?"

Sirius smiled at her. It was a thin, mournful smile.

"Oh, I don't sleep much these days."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Was all she could add in return. Sirius looked at her for a long moment, so long she started to fidget a bit under his stare until he shifted, setting his own glass down and reaching across the table to grab another. Hermione just look at him quizzically as he poured the liquor into the glass and slid it to her.

"It'll help." He said in answer to her expression. "Doesn't fix it, mind you. But it will take the edge off."

Hermione didn't respond, simply taking up the glass and draining it in one go. Even in the future she wasn't much for alcohol, so when she started coughing and sputtering her reaction was quite real. Sirius only laughed at her and refilled the glass.

"So what's keeping you up then?" Sirius asked her.

"The usual." Hermione replied, finally recovered.

"Ah." He said knowingly. They were quite for a few minutes before, the only sound the crackling of the fire. "I worry about him too." He said softly. Hermione wasn't stupid enough to ask him who he meant. They both knew. "Don't worry." Sirius added. "Secrets safe with me."

"I can't help it." She whispered. "Being here, far from him. It's been difficult all summer and now people are being attacked." Hermione said. She didn't know why, but she felt she could trust him. Not with their secret, but at least as someone to confide in. At least he was in that moment, here in the dark kitchen away from the prying eyes and ears of the other order members.

"They others think you're scared out of your wits, you know." He said casually. "They think you're frightened for yourself, but they've no idea, do they?"

Hermione smiled at that.

"I'd do anything to keep him safe." She said. Throwing caution out the window, Hermione decided to take a gamble. "Even if it's from the people who are supposed to be protecting him."

Sirius locked eyes with her, and the pain and regret she saw there shook her to her core.

"I said the same thing once." He mumbled, draining his glass in one gulp before filling it again. He drained the second before sitting back in his chair. Another long pause came, and Hermione had just started considering heading up to bed before he spoke again. "I see Lily in you."

The comment caught her so off guard she nearly fell from the bench, but she didn't dare speak.

"I see James in him. He's just as brash and headstrong as James was, but I see her in you." Sirius said. He wasn't looking at her, instead at his glass as he swirled the whiskey around. "You've her fire, and her fierceness. Both intellectually and physically. It's what drives you."

Hermione fought back the tears that came to her eyes.

"You look at him the same way she looked at James." Sirius said, finally meeting her eyes. "And he looks at you the same."

"I.." Hermione began, but he cut her off.

"That boy adores you. You know that don't you?"

Again, Hermione decided to let all caution to the wind.

"I do. And I'll fight for him if I have to." She told him, her voice unwavering.

Sirius leaned forward and placed a comforting hand on hers, truly smiling for the first time that night.

"Good girl." He said softly.

A long moment passed. A tender moment where Hermione felt the kind of affection she'd only felt for her own father in the past. To know that Sirius approved of her meant more to her than she ever thought it could've. Again, her heart clenched in her chest.

The love Harry had for this man was indescribable. It likely rivaled the love he felt for her. He was the only one in the previous timeline that hadn't shown an ounce of disloyalty to Harry. He'd taken Harry's side in all things, like the father that fate had denied him. His loss had crushed him, and Hermione didn't think he'd ever recovered from it. In that moment, Hermione knew that Sirius would be their ally, when the time came.

"Now drink up." He said, releasing her hand. Hermione grimaced comically but drained her glass anyways. He didn't refill it.

"Thank you for the drink, Sirius." Hermione said as she stood.

"Hermione?" Sirius started.

"Yes?" she asked, turning back to him.

"I've some advice for you, if you'll have it." He said. Hermione nodded. Sirius leveled her with a hard look, eyes locked on hers. "Those feelings you have for him? Hold onto them. Don't ever let them go. If it's anything like last time, this is just the beginning. It will get bloody before the end. I can't promise that I can protect you. I won't. So treasure every moment, because you never know when it will be the last."

"I will." She said.

As she climbed the stairs to return to her room, Hermione mentally amended their goal. They would stop Dumbledore and get their revenge, but Hermione would also do everything in her power to keep Sirius Black alive. After all the losses and all the pain, He deserved a happy ending to his story.

As she lay in her bed later that night, the ring on her finger warmed and for a brief instant, it vibrated. Three quick vibrations. Hermione smiled and finally closed her eyes, exhaustion overcoming her as the tension left her body.

He was safe.

"We have to do something." Said a panicked voice. "We have to get the public back on our side."

"Yes you do, minister." Came the reply. "But how? Albus is a respected member of the wizarding community, much like yourself."

Silence followed.

In the dark off of the Minister for Magic, a sound rang out like a gunshot.

"Hem, hem."

A/N- sorry for the short chapter, but it just felt right to end it there. This one was tough to write. Sirius is one of my favorite characters, and I hope I did him justice. Next chapter, when it comes, will be a LOT longer, and the pace will begin to pick up soon. So don't fret. Next time - Dementors.