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: *insert shameless plug for reviews here* Enjoy!

Chapter 58: Dum Spiro Spero*

15 July 1978

12 Grimmauld Place

Heart racing. Chest constricting. Knuckles bone-white around her wand and her bag.

A black door. A silver knocker in the shape of a twisted serpent. And two numbers embedded at eyeline, reflecting the faint light from the streetlamps. 1. 2. Grimmauld Place.

Hermione's body moved before her mind as she wrenched open the door. The boys, her boys, she needed to find them, make sure they were safe. Harry. Ron.

The witch ran past the drawing room and headed for the stairs. Her ears still ringing and spots still dancing in front of her eyes. She burst into Harry's room, a cursory glance showing neither of the boys was there. She ran to Ron's room, her eyes looking desperately for bodies but no one was there.

Where were they? Remus? Sirius? Hermione took to the stairs again. Her heart was pounding against her chest; her hands tingling. She stepped out from the stairs onto the landing.

"What the fuc—Hermione?"

She grabbed onto the body in front of her. Tears blurred in her eyes, but she could make out a messy mop of black hair. She pulled him into an eager embrace. She was home. A choked and desperate inhalation pulled from her chest.

"The lights. I-I don't know. I can't breathe. I can't breathe."

"Hermione, you're okay. You're—Shit, fuck, fucking fuck. Come here."

She let herself be pulled into a room, still clinging to the boy beside her. The door closed. She was led to sit in a chair, and he kneeled in front of her, holding onto her arms as he spoke.

"Hermione, you're safe. You're okay. Try to breathe. In, out. In, out. Merlin, I—what happened to you?"

"I-I—" The words wouldn't come, couldn't come. Her hands were shaking, and she kept gasping for air. She clutched wildly at her chest. Too tight, it was too tight. "Can't breathe. Harry, help me."

"Who's Harry?"

Two words, like ice in her veins, and the whole world froze. Her body shuddered. Her tunnel vision widened and she looked around at her settings for the first time. She knew this room. She'd investigated with Harry and Ron in this room; she'd found Sirius hoarse from screaming in this room. But now it was light and warm and clean and lived in. She looked at the boy before her. Regulus. She was still in the past.

"No. No, no, no, no, no." She stood suddenly and moved toward the door. Regulus rose and took tentative steps to follow her. "This isn't happening. This isn't real, can't be real."

"Granger, what's going on?"

"I can't—" She backed away until her back hit the door, and then she sunk down, shoving her head between her knees. Her voice fractured as she cried. "Take me back. Take me back. I want to go home, please. Please. Please, I just want to go home."

"Fuck, fuck," Regulus rushed to her side. "Granger, breathe. I can help. Let me help. Just tell me what you need."

"I don't want to be here. I never wanted to be here. I want to go home. I want my boys."

"Breathe, Hermione, you have to breathe. Focus on your breathing first, and then we can figure things out." Regulus started to exaggerate his own breaths, moving his hands up and down Hermione's arms in time with his inhales and exhales. "In, out, in, out. Come on, Granger, give me a big exhale, the biggest you can."

Hermione let out a shaky breath. She tried desperately to focus on the feel of Regulus' hands on her arms, the solid ground beneath her, the door against her back.

"Again, Granger. Breathe. Please."

Another exhale, longer than before, not as weak. She focused on the sound of Regulus' voice, the texture of her hair beneath her fingertips. For the first time in months, she pictured a fraying rope in her mind. It wasn't enough.

Hermione opened her eyes and picked up her head, looking to Regulus. She pulled all her focus to studying his face. The slope of his nose. The grey of his eyes. The messy flop of his hair that was actually much more controlled than Harry's could ever be. She focused on the line digging into the skin between his eyebrows as they pulled together in worry. She focused on his mouth as it formed words that just barely registered in the back of her mind. He had a bit of stubble on his jaw. It was so strange to her.

Shaky breaths turned to exhalations that hinted at laughter. Hermione blinked and returned. She reached out to touch the edge of Regulus' face, running her thumb over the shadow.

"I've never seen you with stubble before."

It was a silly comment, especially on the heels of what had just happened, but at her words, Regulus let out his own breath. His shoulders fell in relief and he pulled Hermione into a crushing hug.

Tears continued to fall down her face, but she had returned to herself. She squeezed her eyes tightly together as she held on to Regulus. Her body started to slightly shake again with quiet sobs, and Regulus held her through the tremors. Her hands were fisted in his sweater at his chest, an iron grip on her lifeline. They clung to each other until her sobs turned to steady breaths once more. And when they finally did, Regulus pulled himself slowly from the hug and moved to sit beside her against the door.

"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."

"I—" The words caught in her throat. She looked to Regulus again.

Could she tell him? Could she trust him? Merlin, the weight was so heavy. Her soul was sore from carrying this secret.

"I—" She tried again.

This boy, this young man before her, he was going to die. She knew this. She knew—Another sob escaped, and she drew her hand over her mouth. She couldn't ask him to help her carry.

But she wanted to. She wanted his help.

Merlin, she'd been so selfish. Playing around with ghosts and betrayers and the ones who would get left behind. Having fun, enjoying herself, being reckless while her best friends were on the run for their lives in pursuit of an impossible mission. What had happened to her?

"Granger," Regulus' voice pulled her back. Her eyes refocused on his face. "It's okay. It's going to be okay."

"I—"

"You don't have to explain."

"No, I—" She swallowed the lump in her throat and fought against her breaths to get the words out. "I want to tell you. I-I've been so selfish, and it's so cruel of me to even consider, but I want to tell you. And I think I need to tell someone because I can't-I can't-I can't do this by myself. Not when I know what's coming."

"I'm here."

Hermione reached for Regulus's hand, squeezing it so tight as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"That day," she started slowly. "When you found me by the Forest. I-I didn't end up there by choice. I don't know, I don't even know how it happened. It doesn't make sense, and I've tried to make sense of it, but—I wasn't supposed to be there, not then. I—"

She clenched her eyes shut, her memories coming forward unbidden.

"Just focus on me and you'll end up where you're supposed to be. It'll be fine, I promise. Come on, you go first."

"I'll be right behind you, Hermione."

"Hermione, please don't hate me."

"I'm from the future, Regulus." Hermione opened her eyes. "I'm-I'm not even born yet here."

Regulus was silent beside her. She didn't dare look at him.

"On a Wednesday in September, a year from now, two muggle dentists will welcome home a baby girl. They'll name her Hermione. Her mother will tell her it's from a Shakespeare play she read while pregnant. Her father will tell her it's from a Bowie song that played on the way to the hospital. And she'll grow up curious and loved and a bit lonely and a bit different from the other children she knows. And then one day, a woman will come to the door and tell her she's a witch, and she'll go to school and learn magic and-and she'll—"

Her voice broke.

"She'll meet wonderful people and the best of friends, and then one day in 1997, she'll disappear. She'll leave without knowing where she's going, without knowing how to get back." She finally looked in Regulus' eyes. "She'll see the faces of names she's heard. She'll be a part of the stories she's been told. She'll know, deep down, that she doesn't belong, but she won't be able to keep her distance. Because she knows them, who they'll be, what will happen, and staying away is something she can't do."

Hermione reached out her hands to cup Regulus' face. She sniffled and her mouth twitched.

"I know it sounds crazy, and you don't have to believe me, but I—"

"I believe you." Regulus nodded beneath her palms. "I believe you, Granger."

Hermione threw her arms around Regulus and hugged him.

"Thank you," she breathed. "Thank you. Merlin, thank you."

"I told you, I'm here."

Hermione pulled back from the hug and put her hands in her lap. She drew up some of the fabric of her dress between her fingertips. She shook her head.

"I can't stay," she wiped at the tear tracks on her cheek. "I-They'll notice I'm gone. It's-Lily and James, they got married today. I—"

"What happened, Granger? Why did you come here? Of all places, why here?"

"There were flashes of light and shouting. It was like before, and I-I panicked and I just thought…" She looked around Regulus' room.

"How do you even know about this place? How did you find it?" His voice wasn't accusatory; it was gentle and curious and tinged with something faintly reminiscent of hope.

"I—" Hermione pressed her lips together. "I trust you, Regulus, but I don't know what I can say, what I can tell you. I need to think. I need—I don't know. I don't know."

Regulus stood and held out his hand for her. She smiled weakly and placed her palm against his, letting him pull her to her feet. He kept a hold of her hand.

"Go back to the wedding, Granger. I'll be here." He blushed a bit and looked down at their entwined hands. "I've bought a new owl. One Sirius won't recognize, so you can write me. We can write or find somewhere to meet or whatever you want. We'll figure it out, but I don't think you should come back here."

"Your family." Hermione whipped her head around to the door. She hadn't thought, hadn't considered.

"Only one of my uncles is home right now, and he keeps mainly to himself. Don't worry, you're fine."

Hermione relaxed slightly. Still holding Regulus' hand, she used the other to smooth out her dress slightly. She blinked. Her eyelashes were wet.

"How do I look?" She grimaced slightly. Regulus chuckled and wiped at a smudge of makeup beneath her eye.

"A little sad, but you look beautiful, Granger."

Hermione sighed and smiled. She squeezed Regulus' hand before dropping it and moving toward the door. Regulus followed close behind and led her down the stairs toward the front door. He opened it just wide enough for Hermione to step onto the landing. She glanced behind her to nod at him, and he caught her arm.

"Write to me, Granger." His eyes darted around her own, searching for something.

"I will."

Regulus didn't let go. He opened his mouth to speak again, but a voice echoed from within the house.

"Regulus, is someone at the door?"

"Go," Regulus whispered and released Hermione before turning back inside. Hermione turned on her heel, disapparating on the spot as he called out. "It's nothing, Uncle."

A/N: *While I Breathe, I Hope