AN: Hey guys! Another chapter! I'm hoping I can keep this pace of a new chapter each week, possibly more if I have the time and inspiration! Let me know what you think so far! Any predictions?

Hermione was more than aware she had just dropped a massive bomb on Sirius' brain. Not only had he been isolated from the typical time continuum for a literally unknowable length of time (to use the term loosely), surprised by the appearance of a strange witch, and told about the future—now he had learned that in that far away future, he was dead. He stared at her in blank shock for one, two, three, four, five seconds.

"Dead?" he answered flatly. She nodded her head slowly, lips pressed into a thin line. His brow was deeply furrowed, she could see the emotions play across his face as this sunk in. She wasn't sure how she would take the news of learning about her future death. Everyone knows that they are going to die. Most people do not have the option to know anything about that death decades in advance, which was probably for the best.

"How?" he demanded, voice low and eyes averted.

"I'm not sure I should—" she began.

"How?" he asked more firmly. She chewed her lower lip, conflicted. If she told him how he died, and he was somehow returned to a linear timeline, he could attempt to change things. In fact, all the information she had shared was exceptionally dangerous should that occur. Would she have to alter his memory? She was fairly skilled with memory charms, she didn't relish the ethics of them though. Perhaps he would consent to having the spell cast? The silence was penetrating though, she felt it squeezing her from all around.

"Harry was in danger," she explained finally. "It was Bellatrix, she came after him in the Ministry of Magic. He was lured there under false pretenses, he went to the Department of Ministries." She saw tears welling in his eyes. "He believed that Voldemort had captured you, that he was torturing you," the tears in her own eyes beginning to form. Talking about it brought back vivid memories, so much fear, chaos, uncertainty. There had been torture, grievous injury, and Sirius' death. So many more deaths would follow.

"You stepped in between them, to duel her instead. There wasn't—there was no body for us to bury. You kind of just… disappeared," she concluded. His brows knit together.

"Disappeared?"

"Well, Department of Mysteries and all that… there was an archway, it had a veil hanging from it. Bellatrix cursed you and you fell through it. There were.. it sounded like voices whispering. And you just faded…" she trailed off. "I don't think there was any pain, if that helps."

"But—" he stopped. "Harry was okay?" he asked.

"Yes, I mean, he was physically okay," she answered. "He… was obviously very depressed after it happened, you know. You were an amazing godfather to him. He loved you very much," she reassured him.

"Where was James? Why did they pretend to capture me?" Sirius was beginning to ask questions Hermione could not answer. She knew that as much as any person cared about their own life, Sirius cared about his friends lives even more. She had to draw a line somewhere. This was that place.

"You were the person Voldemort would have been able to trap, I can't go into more detail," she responded truthfully. Sirius wasn't stupid. Explicating anything would give him enough clues to guess the truth. Best to omit information instead.

"This happens when?"

"It would have been five years ago, during our fifth year. In my own timeline anyway." She saw him mentally chewing on this.

"So… that makes you 20, yeah? Harry is 20," he was talking to himself.

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley made him a lovely cake and we all celebrated in the garden," she offered, smiling, trying to offset the news she had just given him.

"Weasley?"

"Our other best friend, Ron… Harry's girlfriend's mom," she changed course mid-sentence.

"Blimey," he sighed. "Harry is older than I am now," he said in awe. "Has a girlfriend, helped defeat a dark wizard, dating a Weasley… really takes after James if he's gone after a red head," he mumbled. She sunk back into the couch making herself as small and unnoticeable as possible while he sorted through whatever he needed to sort through. Obviously his concern for Harry trumped his concern for his own life, which she had been counting on when she shared the information. It didn't completely cancel out the shock of finding out your future self is dead.

"I don't know what the point of it all is. For us to fight a war so that future generations can know peace if they end up having to fight the same war anyway and we just… die," he offered. He seemed overwhelmed, disheartened, and confused.

"Sirius, I'm sorry if I shouldn't have told you, if this was the wrong—" she answered quietly.

"No, I'm not upset that you told me. Everybody dies sometime. I… I'm just frustrated. It just seems like I've seen a lot of people die, get hurt, lose years that should have been innocent… just for it to not mean anything." He rubbed a hand over his face, parting his silky hair with his fingers. Hermione felt her breath hitch in her throat. She had never, ever been as addled by a man as she was around Sirius. She hadn't known him like this. The Sirius she had known had been paranoid and bitter. He had been kind and he loved Harry to the point of irrationality, but this Sirius was softer and more spirited. Something about him made her want to crawl into his lap and bury her face into his chest, like he could somehow bring her back to life after years of feeling adrift.

"It did mean something," she told him, eyes wide and earnest. She sat up and leaned towards him placing a hand on his knee. His grey eyes connected with hers and twisted her stomach in a knot. She felt so guilty crushing on Harry's godfather. More accurately, she felt so guilty crushing on Harry's godfather while comforting him from information about his own death that she had given him.

"I promise you, lives were also saved. Voldemort won't ever hurt anyone ever again. Honestly… the world is better where I come from than it has been in a long time," she reassured him, knowing it rang somewhat hollow. She thought of Ron, decomposing in the cold earth and she knew that lives saved didn't always make the lives lost feel worth it.

She couldn't tell if he'd been reassured or not, his face was unreadable. She had never exactly planned for a scenario in which she would meet the younger self of a dead This whole situation was a mess.

And what was she supposed to do about this situation? Was she thrown here to keep Sirius company in no man's land? Was she supposed to help him return to his own time stream? Was she just stuck here for no good reason at all? Was this another dream that she was going to wake up from? She realized she'd been making eye contact with Sirius for way too long, and he had maintained the eye contact with equal intensity. She couldn't tell what was going through his mind only that whatever it was made her spine tingle and her knees feel like jelly.

"I…" he said, eyes falling to her lips. Did she imagine it? Or was he actually leaning closer? He covered her hand with his own, the touch comfortable and familiar while being completely novel and thrilling.

"Sirius?" she whispered, her voice full of questions.

"Would you stay here? With me?" he asked.

"You mean, here? In the house?"

"I mean, don't leave me alone? I've been alone… so long. I never thought it would end. I can't stand to be alone anymore," he pleaded. He squeezed her hand ever so slightly, but that little squeeze was all it took for her to feel his vulnerability. She nodded.

"Yes, I'll stay with you," she agreed, not wanting to be alone herself right now. She couldn't imagine how eerie that had to feel for him.

"Hermione."

"Yes, Sirius?" she noticed that they were still holding hands. She made no move to pull away, enjoying their contact for as long as she could get away with.

"Did you say there was whispering? From the archway… where I, ya know, fell?"

"Well, it's hard to say if there were any actual voices or if it was just a draft, but yes," she replied, somewhat confused.

"I don't want to sound crazy, but—sometimes, I swear, I hear someone whispering to me," he confided uneasily.

Well if this didn't make everything even more interesting and strange than it already was, Hermione thought to herself.