Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling. All characters, places, descriptions, etc. (unless original and created by me) belong to her.
Summary: It was a small pack, of course, just the five of them, but together they were something wild. Hermione finds herself in the Marauder's Era with four new best friends.
A/N: Enjoy! Would love to hear what you think!
Chapter 71: Ducunt Volentem Fata, Nolentem Trahunt*
28 March 1979
From: Regulus Black, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry
To: Hermione Granger, The Shelter, Yorkshire
Granger –
How did it go? Are you okay? Did you get answers?
Write me when you can,
R.A.B.
From: Hermione Granger, The Shelter, Yorkshire
To: Regulus Black, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry
Rabbit,
I'm fine. I'm home, and I'm okay.
The meeting with your uncle was… enlightening. I got answers. Not the ones I thought I'd find, but it was better than I'd hoped for. In a way, it had been staring me in the face for a while, but your uncle helped bring it to light.
I'm hopeful. For the first time in a long while, I think I've got a handle on things and everything may turn out okay.
There's still work to be done, but I think I know what I'm doing now.
Thank you. Thank you for setting up that meeting. You have no idea what this will mean.
- Hermione
6 April 1979
From: Lycoris Black, The Department of Mysteries, Ministry of Magic
To: Hermione Granger, The Shelter, Yorkshire
Miss Granger,
I hope you will forgive the delay in my response to our conversation from the other week. It has weighed on my mind since we spoke, and I believe you will agree that this is a situation not to be handled lightly. It requires contemplation and a deep consideration.
Additionally, you must understand my hesitation in offering any services concerning the Veil. It is a work of wonder as much as it is a sign of my greatest failure. While I am not privy to every detail in how it has been used since its creation, I feel the burden of every soul that passes through. My only consolation thus far has been the knowledge that it is not I who sent them in. What you are asking of me would break this fragile wall in an irreparable way.
I could tell you were a Gryffindor from the moment you stepped off the elevator – I add this because it was your tears that stopped me from throwing you out at the mere mention of this plot. And it was your candor and blatant inability to convincingly tell a lie that served as the only reason I even deigned to consider your request. I can tell that youbelieve this to be the right answer to your problems, but I wonder if you truly know to what you are condemning my great-nephew.
I am a man of my family, Miss Granger, and I know I have many wrongs to be righted. This conversation is far from over, but I shall leave you with my terms as clearly as I can put them.
I will provide you with access to the Death Chamber and the Veil, but that will be the extent of my involvement in this matter. That alone is enough to invalidate my history of keeping my hands as clean as possible concerning the Veil. But the potential that this plan could use the Veil to save a life…
We shall be in constant communication, and if I find an ounce of doubt in your story, I will not hesitate to notify the highest level of authorities of your transgressions.
I am not condoning your choices, Miss Granger, simply allowing them until I decide otherwise, but I expect you to continue thinking on what this will mean for Regulus. And what this will mean for yourself.
- Lycoris Black
From: Hermione Granger, The Shelter, Yorkshire
To: Lycoris Black, Department of Mysteries, Ministry of Magic
Mr. Black,
Believe me when I say that this situation has been a heavy weight on my brain and heart for over a year now. I hope you can sense that I have considered all other avenues and possibility, but this alone remains the only way I can see to save him. And I do understand what sacrifice this requires of him, but the time spent behind the curtain is something I'm willing to spend if it means he will live to see another day when he emerges. You know your magic and your design. To Regulus, it will be the blink of an eye. It is the rest of us who will have to suffer the wait.
I understand the risk and consequence of this choice, but when the alternative is death, the choice is easy. I would do anything to save Regulus, Mr. Black. He is worth it all.
- Hermione Granger
8 April 1979
From: Regulus Black, 12 Grimmauld Place, London
To: Hermione Granger, The Shelter, Yorkshire
Home for the spring holiday. Do you have plans Saturday?
- Rabbit
From: Hermione Granger, The Shelter, Yorkshire
To: Regulus Black, 12 Grimmauld Place, London
I'm all yours.
- Hermione
14 April 1979
The Shelter
Two days after the full moon found Hermione waiting around the house to hear from Regulus. The day had started out clear, but clouds quickly crowded the sky, darkening the cottage. Remus and Sirius begged off to London to drink the day away in a pub with James. Hermione merely pointed to a stack of newly purchased books, the only excuse she needed to then have the house to herself.
The hours dragged on. The clouds continued to darken. Hermione poured herself a tea one-handed, her coin twinned with Regulus' clutched in her palm. The haze of the full moon lingered, adding to the ominous presence of the clouds. She reread his last letter. Saturday, he'd said Saturday. Coin never leaving her hand, she tried to sit, tried to read, tried to distract herself as she waited. Rain started to fall lightly outside. She made herself another cup of tea, not to drink but just as something to do. The clock in the kitchen ticked mercilessly.
The coin in her hand warmed, finally. She smiled, looking down. Three messages flashed across the face in a hurried succession. The cup of tea slipped from her fingers, shattering on the kitchen floor.
At your gate.
Didn't know where else to go.
Help.
Gravity shifted. Hermione threw out a hand to steady herself, her heart sheltered in her throat. Am I too late? She moved, faster than she expected, gathering healing supplies and potions, raiding their stores for the full moon. Is it happening already? Her bare feet skidded across chips and shards of ceramic on the floor. The sting and bite were barely noticed above her mental efforts to shove aside intrusive images of Regulus dying. I'm not ready. Arms laden, she threw open the door and began to run.
"Regulus!" The fatigue from the moon evaporated as she pushed herself forward. Raindrops clung to her eyelashes as she squinted out into the distance. A dark mass huddled at the gate. If it was Regulus, he wasn't standing.
"Granger!"
The noise that escaped her body at his voice was almost inhuman. Reaching him finally, she grabbed for him, checking his eyes, his face, his body for any sign of hurt.
"Careful, careful." He held out a hand to steady her against him. "I don't want to jostle him."
Hermione's brows furrowed in confusion before her eyes passed over what Regulus held in his lap. Kreacher, with eyes clenched tight and his mouth open in a silent cry, shivered against the light rain. Hermione looked back at Regulus.
"He-he just appeared like this," Regulus spoke through tears. "The Dark Lord asked for him and I-I sent him off—I didn't know—I didn't know this would happen, that he would get hurt. I thought—I thought—" His eyes were wide and he didn't blink. "He said—dark magic, the darkest he'd ever seen. A-a horcrux, Hermione. The Dark Lord made a horcrux and K-Kreacher—I don't know what he did to him. We have to save him. Help me save him."
"Regulus, it's okay. We can help him, okay. I've got all sorts of potions that can help. He's going to be okay. We'll do what we can." Hermione spoke as she dug through the pile of supplies she'd carried out. "Has he lost any blood? Are there any wounds?"
"I—No, no blood. I can't see any cuts or anything. I-I think it's all internal."
"Okay, that helps." She shoved aside a few vials of blood-replenishing potion. "Talk to him, Regulus. Try to keep him awake, okay."
"Okay, okay." Regulus shut his eyes for a moment before looking back down at Kreacher. "You're going to be okay, Kreacher. You're safe now. We've got you. Hermione's here to help. She's going to help you, Kreacher. You'll be okay."
"Reparifors," Hermione waved her wand slowly, precisely over Kreacher's body. "Good, good, keep talking. Where was he, Regulus? Did he say anything at all when you found him?"
"Er, a cave. He mentioned a cave and—" Regulus shook his head, rain scattering from his hair. "Fuck, a potion. He said he drank something. He-he could barely stand and then he just started convulsing, having a fit, and I—and I—"
"Okay, okay, breathe, Regulus." Hermione reached out blindly to hold onto his arm before returning to her search amongst the vials. "A poison maybe. These should help." She grabbed two vials, unstoppering each. "General antidotes, and they don't counteract with each other. Help me with this."
Together they manipulated Kreacher to drink the potions, massaging his throat through the tremors to help him swallow. And then for a moment, they waited, looking down on Kreacher's small frail body. His eyes rolled back in his head and he let out a painful shout, but the tremors stopped and he seemed to still.
Hermione reached again for her wand. She paused, thinking of Lily and her words of teaching. She moved her hand in the unfamiliar pattern, muttering the spell under her breath. Motes of light began to fall from the path of her wand, shifting in color as they fell upon Kreacher's body. While the most of him alit with a faint white, the space above his heart glowed with a faint orange hue. Hermione breathed, sinking back on her heels. She looked up at Regulus who was looking at her with worry still settled in his eyes.
"He's going to be okay." She swallowed and caught her breath before unfurling the red and gold towel she'd pulled from their full moon preparation cabinet. She moved slowly as not to disturb either Kreacher or Regulus as she wrapped the former in the towel, tucking it around his feet and using the edges to wipe the rain from his cheeks. "Orange means he's healing. It's not over yet, but he'll push through. He'll be okay, Rabbit. He'll be okay."
Regulus hung his head and clutched Kreacher to his chest. Sobs wracked his body as he shielded the little house elf from the rest of the world. Hermione reached for him, her hands falling lightly across his arm.
"We can't stay here," she crooned softly. "The boys aren't here, but I don't know when they'll be back." She moved her hands to rub at his back, slowing the tempo to influence his breaths.
Regulus stilled finally and picked up his head. He stared at Hermione, nodding before his gaze started to fall again. He stilled and blinked. "You're bleeding."
Hermione looked down at her feet curled beside her. Blood smeared against the soles of both feet and a chip of her forgotten tea cup was lodged in her left heel. She winced as she pulled it out. "I-I dropped a cup of tea." She reached back for her wand. "Episkey." The small cuts closed quickly, and she looked up to meet Regulus' eyes again.
They sat there for a moment, chests heaving slightly as their heart rates struggled to adapt to adrenaline leaving their systems.
"I—" His gaze drifted from her face down to Kreacher and then out toward the cottage. "You're right. We should go."
They stood together, both looking to Kreacher for any signs of trouble. The rain continued to fall, just enough to disrupt their vision. Regulus shifted Kreacher to one side and held out his hand for Hermione to take. She stepped in close, clinging to his hand and arm, and closed her eyes as they turned.
12 Grimmauld Place
When her eyes opened, Hermione found herself in Regulus' room. Immediately, they placed Kreacher on the bed, wordlessly tucking in the sides of the towel that swaddled him. Kreacher made no noise, but his breaths came unhindered. Hermione and Regulus watched for a moment, and then another, until finally they stepped away.
Regulus grasped around his pockets to find his wand to throw up a silencing spell. He nodded at Hermione before moving to her side. Together they fell to the floor, settling against the side of Regulus' bed, legs spread out in front of them. Hermione dared to close her eyes.
"This is it, isn't it?" Regulus' voice felt distant.
"What?" Hermione opened her eyes to see him looking at her, his hair a mess, but his eyes alight with something frighteningly similar to conviction.
"The thing that let you take a chance on me when you first got here. Why you trusted me. This is it, right? What I'm going to do."
"Regulus, I—" She hadn't had more than a second to think things through since her coin had burned with his messages.
"I mean I've never been able to truly make my own decisions before, write my own fate. It's always been set out before me. I've always been guided, led—and fuck, if I haven't lived up to all those expectations. Even when I knew it was wrong." He scrubbed a hand through his hair. His eyes burned into her. "I always wondered if I'd have my moment to break away from my family, and this is it. I've got a chance to stop him, Granger. Me, the spare son. I can help end this whole fucking war."
Hermione looked on in horror, watching Regulus as he made the most significant choice of his life. The choice that would have a ripple effect years down the road and back again when he found a young woman on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
"A horcrux, Granger, can you believe it? He's cut apart his own soul, that fucking snake. And no one else knows." Regulus glanced up to where his house elf slept on above them. "I'll wait until Kreacher is well enough and he'll show me the way. I'll-I'll destroy it, and he'll be mortal again."
He looked to Hermione, a faint triumphant smile premature on his face. It fell as he took in her shattered expression.
"Granger?" His brows furrowed. "Hermione, are you okay?"
Tears fell first as her throat burned with words unspoken.
"I can't do this anymore," her voice cracked as she whispered.
"What?" Regulus choked.
"I—" Hermione couldn't meet his eyes. She looked down at her hands. "This-this isn't happening. This can't be happening. Not now, I'm not ready yet. I'm not ready. I-I can't do this."
"Hermione, what's going on?" Regulus moved to kneel before her, his hands on her shoulders. "Talk to me, what's happening?"
"This is your choice, Rabbit," she spoke through tears. "But I refuse to watch you walk into this on your own. Not when I know what I know. I can't watch you do this."
"No." Regulus fell back from her, looking now as if she'd changed before his eyes. "No, no, no. My choice, this is mychoice! My life! You can't take this from me. Not you, Granger. Everyone else, but not you."
"I have to tell you, Rabbit, please. Please let me tell you." Hermione clasped her hands together in prayer. "I'm begging you to please let me tell you. I'll do anything. I-I have a plan. I can fix it. You can still have this choice, but let me help. Please. Please. I refuse to lose you." She reached for him, pulling his hands to her when he held them up. "You've made your choice and you can have it, but there is more that you don't know. I'm not going to stop you. I can't stop you. But I will not have you do this alone."
Regulus pulled his hands back. "What are you even saying? Why-why are you doing this? I don't want to know. I never wanted to know. I just—I just want to make my own decisions, Granger. Why are you doing this?" Regulus got to his feet and turned his back on her, blinking at the wall.
Hermione scrambled to her feet, her mind slipping and her vision blurring. She reached for Regulus' hand, an anchor in the storm. He let her take it. Tears dripped from her chin to the floor.
"Who, if I may be so bold to ask, did you lose? You speak of my own words, but do you know? Do you know how to bring them back?"
"I—I haven't lost them yet."
…
"I am so terrified, so terrified I'm going to fail. That I started working too late. That I'm out of time already. I-I—I promised you a choice. I made you that promise, Rabbit, and I'm not going to break it."
…
"Does it have to do with me?"
"Why would you ask me that?"
He took a deep breath before asking, "Is it something I'm going to do that's worrying you?"
"Regulus, stop."
"Granger—"
"I promised you when you asked me. I promised not to tell you your future. That's what you wanted. Have you changed your mind?"
His silence spoke volumes.
"Then don't try to make me break my promise."
…
They both moved forward, pulled, looking over and assessing each other. You're good? You're okay? I'm fine. I'm okay. The questions and answers unspoken and routine. The ritual of it all felt necessary and safe.
…
He'd pulled out a fresh piece of parchment when she'd been distracted, hiding away the monsters and villains. This page, now, was filled with flowers, a few animals she couldn't discern from across the table, and a pair of eyes she knew to be her own.
"If I can help at all," he shrugged. "I think I'd like to do some good."
…
"Are you trying to get back?" His voice was quiet.
"No." The answer came faster than they both expected. "I mean, yes, no, yes, of course I'm trying to get back. I don't actually belong here."
"But?"
"But, I have things I want to do, need to do. Things I need to be here for. So I'm okay if I don't go back for a little while longer."
Again, he was silent. The room seemed to feed on the subtle wisp of the flames and the sweep of his hand across parchment and the small, momentary catch of his quill.
"Are you trying to change something?"
…
She smiled as she ran her hand over the little lions playing across the wrapping paper. She gently pulled it apart and opened the box. A laugh and a sob fought for the first escape from her throat as she brought her fingers to her lips.
She smiled as she carefully lifted Regulus' gift from the box and held it to her chest. With a yawn, Hermione fell back against her pillows, a black velveteen rabbit clutched close to her heart.
…
"One of these days, Granger, we're going to be happy."
"I'm counting on it."
…
"I'm tentative about involving anyone in your family, Regulus." She winced.
"No," he pulled back from the table, nodding vigorously. "Of course, of course, no, I totally understand. Granger, I'd never do anything to put you in harm's way, you know that right?"
…
"When were you born?"
"I thought you didn't want to know about the future?"
"Not mine. But I want to know your past."
…
"I need something I can control, right now. This—" He looked down to his arm, where she knew the Dark Mark sullied his skin. "—isn't allowing me to control anything about my life. I'm-I'm losing control of my own life, Granger. So please, don't tell me anything about what happens to me, what I do or-or what I say or any of it. Okay?"
…
"Regulus Black, sir. He's still so young. If we could—If the Order could reach out—"
"I am aware of the young Mr. Black and where his loyalties lie. He is not a concern of the Order at this time." Dumbledore's tone almost pushed her back a step. She'd never seen him so cold.
…
"Did you know me before?"
…
"I believe you." He nodded, his eyes firm and held on her. "I believe you, Granger."
…
"I'm here, Hermione. When you're ready to talk. It doesn't have to be right now, if you're not ready. I'm here." He whispered the last words. "I'll always be here."
…
"It's nothing," he said. "Alright, fine. It's stupid, okay. I know it is, but…you're leaving."
She moved forward and pulled him into a rough hug as the room around them dissolved into Grimmauld Place. She shuffled him into his usual chair and knelt before him.
"It's not stupid, Regulus. It's not," she whispered. "But you have to know—just because I'm leaving Hogwarts, doesn't mean I'm leaving you."
…
"It won't happen, Regulus," she said. "I'm not going to lose you, and you're not going to lose me. I do need you. There's no way to avoid us getting involved in all of this. It's too late. But I swear—I'll never raise my wand to you."
"Did you just use legilimency on me?"
"What? No, I would nev–"
"Then how did you know what I was thinking?"
"I just…" She smiled sadly and rested her chin on his knee. "I just, knew. When you looked at me, I just knew."
…
"As much as you want to, Hermione," he said, "you can't save everyone."
…
"I can't." It was whispered and breathy. And by the hoarseness of his voice, she could tell he had been screaming. "I can't stop seeing it. I can't. I can't."
"Shh, shh," she hushed as she continued to comb her fingers through his raven locks.
"I didn't want to. I swear. I swear I didn't want to." He started to chant. "I didn't want to, but they made me. I had to. I had to. I had to. They would have ki-killed me."
"I know, I know. It's okay. You're okay. You're here and you're safe. You're okay, Regulus."
"How can you touch me?" Disgust dripped from his jaw as a fresh onslaught of tears fell from his eyes. "I'm a monster."
"I told you, Regulus. I'm still here." Her nose burned and her eyes prickled. Her throat and her heart constricted in tandem. "And I've told you before. You're worth fighting for."
…
"It's like—it's like I'm standing on the bow of a ship. I can see the storm up ahead, but there's nothing I can do to avoid it. There's no way around it. I have to go through."
"We could turn around." Regulus' voice was so soft she barely heard his words.
…
"I promise that I will be loyal to you, will never intend harm, and will be your confidante without deceit. If you let me. Oh, please let me, Regulus. It's only going to get harder from here. You don't need to be afraid of sharing with me. You already know I need you. That I'm going to need you. I trust you, Regulus. Please, just trust me in return."
She felt a shift within her, a comfortable weight of duty settling over her soul as he finally responded.
"Always."
…
"I'm sorry, Regulus. You don't deserve this pain."
"Don't I?"
She dropped his arm and grabbed his chin, gently forcing him to meet her hardened eyes. "No. You don't. You were a child, Regulus. You had no choice. You're not in control of your destiny. Not yet."
"You say that as if one day I'll have a choice. But don't you get it?" He gestured to his Mark. "This takes that all away. He took it all away."
"No, Regulus," she whispered as she moved both hands to his cheeks and her forehead to his. "You will get your choice. I promise you."
…
"I know you trust me, Hermione. I don't know why, but you do. And I guess, in light of it all, you deserve to know the truth." He took a deep breath. She reached out to touch his forearm, turning it over, yet her eyes never left his own.
"I know."
"And you're–"
"Still here." She looked down at the angry blackness that marred his perfect skin. Her eyes prickled. She ran her thumb over the Dark Mark and shuddered. "I meant what I said before, Regulus. I will always be here for you."
…
"You have to choose, Pup. You have to choose between them."
"Don't want to choose," she whispered softly. "Don't make me choose."
…
"I'll do whatever the bloody hell I want, Pettigrew. Get out of my way."
The shouting roused her from her sleep. Every inch of her hurt.
"How is she?" Regulus' voice. Fingers ghosted over a bruise on her wrist. Then, sounds of a struggle.
"Don't. You. Dare." Sirius' voice this time.
"You're not the only one who cares for her, you know."
…
"I'm here, Regulus. I will always be here for you."
…
"Does anyone take care of you, Regulus?"
Silence.
…
His hair was limp and dry, no longer the rich black of fresh ink. He'd gotten it cut when he was away. He looked faded. His skin was pale and translucent. His eyes were tired and red and almost sunken. Her mind flashed to Draco Malfoy's appearance in the days before Professor Dumbledore's death. In that moment that his eyes met hers, she knew exactly what was happening to him. In that moment that his eyes met hers, she decided to fight for him.
…
"Regulus," she started softly. "Where did you learn to fight like that?"
"Practice."
…
"They can't help you like that." He shook his head. "They can't see that part of you, not like I can. They won't let themselves see you as something dangerous."
"But why can you see me like that?"
"We're the same." He said it like it explained everything.
…
When she finally landed a hit, she couldn't stop. She was breaking into tears. She kept launching herself at him, but she couldn't see anymore. All she could hear was herself gasping. She lost form, but it didn't matter. He had moved closer. He was holding her now, despite her relentlessly beating at his chest.
He held her as she struggled, as she cried. He held her until she stopped fighting. And when she did, he pushed her out to arm's length and smiled at her, pride in his eyes.
…
"I was alone." His voice was so quiet that she had to rely on her heightened hearing to make out his words. "I'm not going to say I didn't know any better, because I did. But I was alone. Sirius had just left, and I didn't want to be alone anymore. It was stupid, and I've regretted it ever since."
"Regulus, I–"
"No, it's okay. I want you to know I don't believe any of it. Maybe I did once, I don't know, but I don't now." He looked deep into her eyes, his gaze full of so much intensity it scared her. "I would never betray you, Hermione. I swear. I'll never tell. You can trust me."
…
It was a card, handmade. Across the top, delicate script read "Get Well Soon." Each letter perfectly formed. Under the message was a small sketch. A wolf sleeping on a hill, under a full moon.
…
The paper was a rough sketch of her as she was, sitting on the floor and reading, as viewed through the gaps in a bookshelf. He'd written a message on the bottom in perfect pureblood calligraphy. "To: Hermione."
…
He moved to sit beside her. His hand moved and pulled something from his pocket. He pulled back a couple napkin layers and handed a miniature Shepherd's Pie to her. She accepted the food but looked at him questioningly. He shrugged.
"You missed dinner, didn't you?"
…
"What did Sirius call you? Back there."
"Ignavus. It's Latin. He called me a coward."
…
"What are your names? If I may ask."
The two boys shared another look, then the younger one took a step forward and with a certain air of aristocracy, bowed slightly. "Regulus Arcturus Black."
…
"You probably have a concussion," a young boy offered, taking one more step toward her, crouching down and reaching out to touch her arm. "Don't worry, you're safe now."
"Change your mind, Rabbit," she whispered. "Change your mind and let me tell you what I know. If I have to break a promise, let it be this one."
He knew. He had to know what was coming. Regulus clenched his eyes shut and squeezed her hand. "You can tell me. You can break your promise, Hermione. You can tell me."
She turned his body slowly, pulling him into a tight hug like he was at the end of the thread in her chest. She buried her head in the crook of his neck, holding him tight, focusing on the space he took up, the warmth he emanated, the weight of his arms. He was here. He was safe. He was alive.
Her heart fractured.
"You die, Rabbit. You go to that cave and you drink that potion and you steal the horcrux. You make this choice and you are successful. But you-you—Rabbit, you die there."
As she spoke, Regulus sunk into her. His arms tightened around her and his tears stopped. He pulled back slightly, enough to look into her eyes. And then he kissed her forehead, stopping a sob at her skin. He clenched his eyes tight and pulled her close again.
"I don't want to die," he whispered. "But I have to do this."
"I know." It was the truth. This, his choice and action would always be inevitable. "But you dying, Rabbit, I do not accept this."
"It can't be helped, Hermione." He was trying to sound strong and sure, like he knew what he was doing. "If that's what it takes, it is a price I'm willing to pay."
"I can't—I can't accept that."
"It's my choice, Granger."
"No," she pulled back and looked at him squarely. Tears in her eyes, face red and blotchy, but there was an immovable force there. "You can have your choice to go there and take the horcrux, but I will have mine as well. You will not die, Regulus Black. I will go to that cave myself and steal you away. But you will not die."
"I don't think you can mess with fate like that."
"I don't care. I'm being selfish. I couldn't—I wouldn't know how to—You can't leave me."
"Hermione—"
"I don't accept it. I can't accept it. This is—You are everything that I have been working for, fighting time for. The answers I have been searching for were for you, to save you, Rabbit. I would break time for you if that's how it worked. I've plotted it out millions of times, the steps you take, the effects you cause, the openings for change. Thwarting death, tricking magic. And I tried—you have to believe me, I tried to keep you free from it. I never wanted—I never wanted to burden you."
She stepped back, shaking her head, looking at him standing before her.
"I—I don't know why I came back. I don't know what forces brought me back, but I am so glad I did. Because if I can save you, it will have all been worth it."
This immovable force embodied in Hermione, Regulus finally recognized. The delay wasn't his fault, though, as he'd had so little exposure in his life. But when he realized, he took a step back, genuinely shocked. His friends had teased him, suggesting he harbored a crush on his Gryffindor friend, but it wasn't that. It was a different sort of affection, something beyond anything he'd known or even heard of. He couldn't even put a name to it, to describe it accurately. He'd thought he'd been alone in the depths of his feelings for her, but it seemed Hermione Granger loved him, too.
"I don't know what to say."
"I made you a promise, that you would get your choice. I'm not taking it away, Rabbit, but I'm asking you to make another one." She turned from him then, looking around his room seeing the changes that would be brought on by time. She walked to the wall where Sirius would throw a lamp a bit less than twenty years in the future. "Your room is the same, you know. It doesn't change much."
"How would you know?"
"The night of James and Lily's wedding, I came here. Not because I was looking for you, but because I've been here before."
"But if I die…"
Hermione turned back to face him, her eyes drifting over Kreacher's sleeping form. "No one knows what happens to you. Just that one day your face on that tapestry downstairs is replaced with a skull. There will be assumptions, of course, but no one will know the truth except for Kreacher. No one else. Not until we stumble across the right answers and ask the right questions."
"We?"
"In 1997, I—along with my two best friends, Ron and Harry—end up at Grimmauld Place. And we ask Kreacher what happened to Sirius Black's little brother."
Regulus sighs. "And he tells you about the cave and the horcrux."
"And that you ordered him to leave." Hermione blinked a few times to disperse unshed tears. "Your body isn't found, Rabbit."
"So that's your plan?" he laughed darkly. "You're going to kidnap my body?"
"Yes."
He stopped laughing. "What?"
"It all worked out so perfectly. Your uncle. Lycoris? When I was here, I read his journals, left in the library. I-I found the answers to how to save you before I even met you. I just didn't realize it until I met him." Hermione flexed her hands and almost reflexively reached out for Regulus before stepping away again. "I can keep you safe. I can trick the magic of that bloody tapestry. I can change the future."
"Hermione—"
"The only person that knows what really happens to you after Kreacher leaves you in the cave is you." Hermione stepped up to him, holding out her hand for him to take. "A second choice, Rabbit. I don't want to let you have it. I want to make it for you. And it is killing me to even consider that you—that you won't—but I—I don't want to be like them, like every other person who has taken choice away from you." Her hand wavered. "It's your choice to make, Rabbit."
Regulus stared at her offered hand. A moment passed. Hermione closed her eyes.
"Explain it." It was just a whisper, his voice hoarse from emotion. "Don't—I don't want to know everything, but explain it to me, how you would save me."
Hermione opened her eyes.
"The tapestry marks you as dead for as long as I know, as far as the 29th of August in 1997," she began. "Which means that magic, that familial blood magic baked into the stitches, recognized you as dead. But there is a way to trick it, to confuse the magic into believing you were dead. When I read Lycoris' journal, I came across something that would do just that. It's called the Veil."
Hermione fought a shiver, remembering the feeling of standing before the dark arch. Regulus listened, his face unreadable.
"It is an environment of stasis. You enter the Veil, and for you, time stops moving. You cannot be reached. You cannot be harmed. You would be safe."
"So what? I'd be stuck in limbo for twenty years." He shook his head. "Granger, I'd go mad."
"No, no!" She grasped onto his arm. "You wouldn't notice. It's complete stasis. It would be like blinking. You wouldn't—It wouldn't—Twenty years would pass in a heartbeat for you."
"How would I get out?"
"I will call you."
"In twenty years?" He scoffed.
"I will wait for you," she snapped back. "I will wait here, or I will find a way to go back, but I will be there, Rabbit. I will call you back myself."
"This is crazy."
She hit him, lurching forward to shove at his chest. "Stop."
"Did you just hit me," he laughed.
She hit him again. "Stop laughing." Tears came again. Her nose was dripping and she wiped at it with her sleeve.
"I just—Granger, you have to admit. This whole plot—"
"I will not accept a world in which you die alone in a cave, Regulus." She stood her ground. "This is your choice. Let me save you, or-or I'm coming to the cave with you."
"What? Absolutely not."
"I don't think you understand me about this situation." She stepped forward carefully, backing Regulus into the corner as she stared him down. "I want, more than anything in this world, to keep you alive, but if you are so determined to die, I will not let you be alone."
"You're not dying with me, Hermione."
This time Hermione laughed. "Of course not. I want to live. But I'm not going to let you spend your last moments alone."
"I—" Exhausted, Regulus sank against the wall to sit on the floor. He looked up at Hermione and held out his hand. She took it, letting him guide her down as well before curling into his side, never releasing his hand.
"You talked to Lycoris about this?" Regulus spoke after a moment.
"Yes," Hermione whispered back. "He's agreed to help. He's wary of me, obviously, but he believed me when I told him I was trying to save your life."
"You told him you're from the future?" His chest lurched. "But your vow?"
Hermione shook her head against him. "I didn't tell him. I'm sure he assumes with everything we've said, but I didn't tell him. I'm okay."
"How much time do I have?"
"I don't know. I—Kreacher made it seem like there wasn't much time between what happened today and when you—when you go to the cave."
"And how much time do you need?"
Her heart skipped a beat, but she didn't dare allow it to hope just yet. "I—I'll need to speak with Lycoris again. We would just need access to the Veil and a portkey to take you when-when the time comes."
"I want to finish school."
This time Hermione did allow herself to hope. She looked up at him with wide eyes.
"I just—I wouldn't want to have to do the year over again, right?"
"I can't take it if you're joking, Rabbit." She couldn't even move from her position against him, but she clutched tighter to his hand.
"No, I wouldn't think so," he whispered as he rested his head atop hers. "But you'll have to put up with it. I don't want to die, Hermione, and if you've found a way to save me, I—I want to live."
The Shelter
By the time she returned home, the rain had passed, leaving the ground at the gate muddy and wet. Hermione picked up the remaining supplies she'd left behind, noting the things she would need to replace and the absence of the Whiskey Towel. With heavy heart, she trudged back up to the house, thankful when her nose picked up the continued absence of the boys. It was easier this way.
She placed the remaining potions and bandages and such back into their cabinet and turned to the scattering of blood and broken teacup that marred the kitchen floor. She set her wand down before wetting a flannel and dropping to her knees. She would clean this the muggle way and take her time.
Once the spilled tea and dried blood were cleaned, erased as if nothing had happened, Hermione escaped upstairs to shower off, to scrub herself clean of the scents of Kreacher, of Grimmauld Place, and Regulus.
He always smelled of fresh mint and smoke. It had long been comforting to her and always make her somewhat sad when it faded under soap and water. Hints of lavender filled the space vacated, expanding in the steam rising from her body. Hermione didn't cry, her tears had long run out, but she stood under the heat of the water until all her skin reddened and her fingers pruned.
Only when she finally heard noise of the boys returning home did she shut off the water. She dried off, threw on some clothes, and paused at the top of the stairs, taking the time to set a mask firmly in place. Her eyes brightened, her chin lifted, and a wide smile settled across her face. It was easier this way.
"How was the pub?" she shouted as she bounded down the stairs.
A/N: *The Fates Lead the Willing and Drag the Unwilling