A/N: Ah! I had meant to have this chapter done sooner, but it was Fan Expo here in Dallas over the weekend and I had cosplays to finish. I got a photo signed by James and Oliver Phelps! I thought I was going to be all classy getting their autograph and then I froze up and barely said anything, grinning like an idiot while dressed as Marvel's Valkyrie. I looked so lame, y'all.
As always, thank you for the comments and the follows! You guys are so awesome.
oOo
The silence was all consuming.
Instantly following her admission, Hermione had regretted her words. She had intended the knowledge to be a tool to force trust, but she immediately realized, due in no small part to the watching the blood drain from Remus's face, that forcing trust was essentially blackmail. The witch had confessed to knowing a secret she had absolutely no right to in this time. Or was it, in this hallucination?
You better pick one, Granger. Are they figments of your imagination or real people? We can't do this back and forth game all night. Her brain felt the way spun art looked, like the paintings you did in pre-school by dripping paint onto a spinning paper. Colors splattered about in a continual looping frenzy, never ending and never beginning.
If they were simply figments, then there was no reason for Hermione to be feeling such intense guilt, but Remus's face looked so very stricken and it twisted her gut in the most painful way. This whole adventure was such a complete mess it almost had to be real. Hermione Granger's eternally logical brain was having a difficult time coming to terms with the idea that, even in her most preposterous of dreams, she would've conjured the Marauders in this way.
Her amber eyes grew wide.
Was someone doing this to her? She'd seen "The Matrix" a few years ago with Harry. Because, obviously super computers must be behind this, eh Granger? Had someone else created this ridiculous reality? Her stomach clenched with paranoia. Was she being manipulated? But -no- she'd been able to silently and wandlessly cast a sectumsempra, and petrify three wizards at once. Why would someone create her hallucinations and let her do powerful acts of magic? Why would someone be creating hallucinations for her in the first place?
Get it together, Granger! What the literal fuck is going on?
"Who's going to win the match come Sunday, then, the Cannons or the Harpies?" James asked from the floor, where he had remained since being petrified.
Wha...what? Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but she could summon no words. For the first time in possibly her whole life, the wild haired witch was completely dumbfounded and she couldn't keep her face from expressing that rare phenomena. Part of her brain was telling her mouth to close and her eyebrows to return to their proper position, but her face seemed to have no intention of obeying her frazzled mind.
Remus turned and cocked an eyebrow in disbelief.
"What?" James shrugged looking between Hermione and Remus. "I mean, she blasts in here claiming to have knowledge about good ol' Voldy and you, and needs to speak to Dumbledore. Stands to reason she might be some sort of Seer, and I have a lot of Galleons riding on the Harpies."
"I'm disturbed that, literally, the first thing you would ask a Seer if you met one, would be the future results of a Quidditch match." Remus remarked in near disgust, but his friend's inane comment seemed to relax him.
"I don't see why that's surprising to you."
"I said 'disturbed,' not 'surprised.'"
No, I'm not in the Matrix. Even this is too fucking ridiculous for the godsdamned Matrix. But all the same, Hermione turned her eyes briefly to the fireplace, wondering if Agent Smith might Floo in. It honestly would not be surprising at this point.
1982. She desperately thought to herself again. Even if this was somehow 1982 then currently on the floor James should be dead and currently petrified Sirius should be in Azkaban. Maybe they had lied to her? But why would they have done that? What use could they have in telling her the wrong year? Maybe they were confused. Maybe they're not real. Maybe she was on the floor in the Ministry. Maybe she was insane. Maybe she had-
The deep, calming voice of her father interrupted her inner dialogue and she nearly gasped.
It was a late summer evening and eight year old Hermione had just burst through the door to her house, calling out for her father. Her knees were bloodied and her tights torn to reveal skin covered with fresh bruises and tiny rocks; battle scars from her fight with the neighbor's son. She had run straight to her father, throwing her arms around his neck, and crying into his large shoulders. He had lifted up his only daughter and patted her back with a strong hand, whispering soothing words into her tiny ear.
"They hate me. I wish I'd never been born. I wish I was different. I wish I had skin like yours." She had whimpered between sobs and her father had looked down at her, his brown eyes full of sadness and concern, but he had smiled.
"I am so glad you were born, love." He said, wiping Hermione's tear stained cheeks. "I am so glad you have your mother's beautiful skin. I couldn't imagine my life without you."
Then his smile had grown. "Just think, life could be horrible, if we'd ended up in the wrong trouser of time, I might not have had you."
The wrong trouser of time.
The wrong.
Trouser.
Of time.
Could it be?
There was only one wizard who would know.
"Boys, focus." Hermione cut in. "Will you or won't you take me to Dumbledore?"
James and Remus shared a look and the latter shrugged.
"At this point, Miss Granger, I'm not sure what else there is to do with you." James answered with a nonchalance Hermione was coming to associate with the messy haired man. Evidently Harry had inherited his demeanor and his aversion to combs from his father.
Remus stuffed his hands into the pockets of his torn Muggle jeans and nodded his head towards the wizard still frozen on the floor. "That will require, I'm afraid, for you to un-freeze Sirius."
"Yes, you keep mentioning that." Hermione muttered with a sigh, casting her gaze downward. "If he launches himself at me, I'm going to petrify him again, you understand."
"Y'know, for only knowing him for about an hour, you seem to have really been able to grasp the core tenants that make Sirius Black, Sirius Black. Bravo to you." James remarked, giving Hermione a light golf clap.
Oh, if only you knew.
Sirius and Hermione had never been close; years in Azkaban had stripped so much of the civilized man from the wizard, that he really only had enough heart left for Harry, and that never bothered Hermione. She had always found the Animagus to be too brash, too arrogant, too emotional for her tastes. She loved him for what he had meant to Harry and she was devastated by his death, not because of the loss of a friend, but for the loss of Harry's innocence, for all their innocence. The end of fifth year had marked the end of her childhood.
"Alright, Mr. Black. I think we can both agree that, as you are currently unarmed, making any rash decisions would be unwise. So let's just...let's just all stay calm." Hermione bit the inside of her cheek and, with more than a little trepidation, flicked her wand at Sirius.
With a barbarous roar, Sirius Black flung himself from the ground, as soon as Hermione's counter-spell had released him, and careened towards the witch.
So much for calm.
"Petrificus Totalus!" Hermione yelled and the furious wizard froze again. "Mr, Black, I thought we had a deal!"
James was laughing wildly from the floor, holding his side and wiping tears from his eyes. Remus's face did not move, but the corners of his mouth seemed to twitch.
"A bloody gift from the gods, I tell ya." James wheezed. "I would pay so many Galleons, all of my Galleons, to see her petrify Sirius repeatedly."
"I will admit, it's more amusing than I would have originally anticipated." Remus was visibly struggling now to keep a straight face.
Hermione rolled her eyes and ignored the two wizards. "Now listen, Black, we could do this all night, but I'd really rather not. I've got the wands and you are very frozen, and you will remain that way unless you stay calm."
"She's got a point there, mate." Remus offered. James was too busy giving in to hysterical fits of laughter from the floor to contribute to the conversation.
This is going nowhere. If I could get him to talk to me then- Hermione's face lit with an idea. Why not, really, why the fuck not?
Hermione raised her wand. "Relashio caput."
"GODRIC BE DAMNED, WITCH, REALEASE ME AT ONCE!" Sirius' features immediately contorted with confusion, his grey eyes round, looking down towards his mouth, shocked more than anyone to hear his voice finally escape it. Remus and James' mouths practically fell to the floor.
"I-I don't...what?" Remus sputtered out.
A giggle slipped from behind Hermione's round lips and then another, followed by another in increasing madness. The witch stared at her wand in awe; all the spells she had theorized, all the magic she has speculated, it was all working.
And it filled her with the most satisfying sense of control.
This is simultaneously the best and worst day of my fucking life.
"Sirius," At the sound of his voice, Sirius' attention snapped back to Hermione. "Will you take me to Dumbledore?"
Grey eyes bore down on her with a viciousness she hadn't seen in years, but Hermione did not flinch.
"Let. Me. Go."
"Answer. My. Question." Hermione could see Sirius' jaw muscles clench as the wizard starred at her, silently contemplating her request, or at least, she hoped silently contemplating her request.
If this was happening, if this was real, if Hermione Granger had somehow slipped between time to- dare she even think it- an alternate timeline, then Dumbledore would know what to do. Dumbledore always knew what to do, it had actually rather infuriated the young witch during her school years. Surely the wrong trouser of time couldn't change that.
The wrong trouser of time. Hermione had passed out in Time's well pressed, tweed slacks and woken up in his rarely used Looney Tune boxers.
Sirius mumbled.
"I'm sorry, what was that?"
"I said," Sirius squeezed through his teeth. "If you let me go, I'll take you to Dumbledore."
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, but she didn't relax. "I have your word then, your word that you will take me to him."
Sirius looked as if the vein in his forehead could burst at any minute. "Yes."
Hermione smiled then. "Splendid. Absolutely splendid. Let's try this again, then, shall we."
Hermione released the rest of Sirius' body and watched as the black haired wizard used all the self-control he had left to not charge towards her again. His body was tense, eyes nailed to Hermione, and muscles taut with anger. He extended a hand towards Hermione and the witch flinched back instinctively, raising her wand to him again.
"My wand, Miss Granger." Sirius requested very slowly.
Uncertainty wrapped itself around Hermione again and the witch's eyes darted around to the three wizards. She did have all the wands, but the now freed Marauders had brute strength and numbers on their side. Last time she'd caught them by surprise, they'd be expecting her spell this go around.
"I will take you to Dumbledore and let him sort you out, I give you my word." Sirius continued. "But that will require use of my wand."
Damnit, he does have a point. Truthfully, Hermione wanted to give them their wands back, she wanted them to trust her, but she also didn't want to end up bound and petrified on the floor again. She couldn't ask for trust without offering it. Oh well, really, this can't get any worse.
Biting her lips with a frown, Hermione tossed the three wands to Sirius, bracing herself for a hex or curse to be thrown her way. Instead, the wizard simply handed their wands Remus and James, keeping his own in his hand, though held loosely at his side.
"Well, it is a bit late at this point, I'd reckon we're near midnight." James said, finally standing and stretching his arms above his head. "As I said before, I've got a wife to get back to. Could we hold off on finding the Minister until the morning, perhaps?"
"No!" Hermione said quickly and the wizards turned to her. "No I- this is of the utmost importance. I need to speak to Dumbledore immediately."
"Immediately isn't going to happen, pet." Sirius crossed his arms over his chest and leaned casually against the fireplace. Wand back in hand, his demeanor had returned to that smug arrogance even Azkaban couldn't strip from him. "There's no way for me to Floo, owl, or Apparate to Dumbledore, he's kept himself pretty well hidden since the war started. There's no way to reach him save for official Ministry business sent only by a few exclusive official Ministry owls."
"Ministry owls? Fine, then let's away to the Ministry." Hermione said, motioning to the Floo.
Sirius shook his head. "The owls aren't kept at the Ministry."
"But you just said-"
"I said they were official owls, yes, but they're kept with three official Ministry officials-"
"I feel like you just like saying the word 'official'."
"Who happen to keep their officially official owls at their official residence-"
"Now you're trying to annoy me." Hermione squeezed the bridge of her nose. "Fine, who are these officials?"
"Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minerva McGonogall, and actually no one really knows who has the third owl. Top secret, y'see." Sirius smirked. Hermione was quickly growing to despise that smirk.
"Then take me to one of them and we will borrow an owl."
Before Sirius got a chance to respond, a blue doe burst through the wall of the room and ran up to James. The wizards and witch froze, all eyes on the doe, they all knew whose patronus they were seeing. The female deer nuzzled James and when her mouth opened, a female voice came bursting out.
"JAMES! James they're here! James come home!"
"Lily!" James' yelled, his face drained of blood, and ran to the Floo, followed quickly by Remus and Sirius. With shacking hands, James grabbed powder out of the bag hanging on the wall and threw it into the fireplace, muttering his destination before disappearing in a whirl of green flames.
Lily? Oh gods, Harry! Hermione rushed to the Floo as Remus stepped into it, her heart pounding in her ears and she couldn't tell what destination Remus had said.
"Stay here!" Sirius growled, pushing her away from the fireplace.
"Like hell I'll stay here!" Hermione shoved him back, her voice full of venom and viciousness. She grabbed a hand full of powder. "Now tell me where they live."
Sirius hesitated, his eyes hard.
Hermione reach up and grabbed the collar of his robes, Floo powder spilling from her fist, bringing his face down to hers. "We don't have fucking time for this, Black. Now tell me!"
Sirius looked from her to the Floo and then spat. "Potter Cottage, Godric's Hollow."
Of course! You should've know that, Granger! But how can we get there, the Potters had a secret keeper. Hermione threw the powder into the flames. Think later, save Harry now.
"Potter Cottage, Godric's Hollow!" She yelled and stepped into the fire.