Thank you for your support. My annoyed reviewer Molly is probably right, I'm a despicable person who loves other people's feedback om my writing. Since I've already have sunken so low, I don't bother to apologize. I still love reviews, so what's the point? Enjoy the chapter. Love, Kia

Chapter 13

Sirius

A part of him is afraid that everything is a dream and that he will wake up to what life was before Hermione came. It wasn't bad before, but he doesn't want it back. Before, he often felt like an observer. Not when he was with James, Remus and Peter. Not with Lily or Marlene. But on the Quidditch pitch against Slytherin Sirius sometimes got confused by the teams' colours. Gold and red or silver and green? Which team am I playing for? He knew Slytherin's Quidditch fight songs better than he did Gryffindor's, because he'd know them since he was four. He often felt he belonged neither here nor there. He knew where he wanted to be, but home schooling until the age of eleven leaves traces. He felt support from his fellow Gryffindors, but also opposition and disapproval from his parents, or his parents' absence. He'd began spending Christmases at Hogwarts in his third year, and even though he was proud of his decision it felt strange to see Regulus pulling his trunk out to the carriages to take his brother to Hogsmeade railway station and home. London and Grimmauld Place. Sirius began seeing Hogwarts as his home very early, but he knew that 'home' meant a completely different thing to James, Peter and even Remus, whose parents lived as travelers to keep their son's secret. Sirius loved Hogwarts, and he knew that Professor Dumbledore would give him good enough recommendations for him to keep to his choosing of the light side inside him, even after Hogwarts, but life still often felt one-dimensional. It was his life at Hogwarts or… or nothing. Of course he'd chosen the Minstry's Auror training because James had. What else would he do?

But now, now when Hermione is here, everything is different. The thought of his inheritance: uncle Alphard's money, belongings, research and cottage, is something more than a lucky streak because it's almost next door to James's parents' house. It's a possibility. It's a hands-on possibility to broaden his horizons more than to follow in the footsteps of people he respects, loves and admires. It gives him enough ground to stand on to be able to make decisions. Decisions about a future he had always pictured living together with his loyal Gryffindor friends who applauded and welcomed him in his first year when the Sorting Hat gave him a choice and he chose what he wanted rather than what he had been raised to do. He still wants to be an Auror. The agitation in the Parliament, the whispers of groups within the Sacred Twenty-Eight and reports of people disappearing tell him that his true calling lies within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The last weeks have made him wonder though if his future lies only there, or if there might be something more. Can be something more.

If it is a dream, Sirius doesn't want to wake up. The day before the Graduation Ball something happens that would have woken him up if he had dreamt the previous months. James gets an Eagle owl with a letter from his mother. Mr Potter is no longer conscious and it is a matter of days before he will leave this world, after years of suffering from the Scrofungulus he contracted as a young man.

"I'll leave right away," James says. He looks more hard-set that Sirius has ever seen him, and Sirius wonders what it feels like to have such strong feelings for one's parents. "Can I borrow your motor bike?"

Sirius pulls the keys from his pocket and hands them to James.

"Of course. Do you want me to come with you?"

James face softens.

"Well, yes, but no. Lily will come with me."

A year earlier Sirius would have been offended by being James's second choice, but he can easily see how much more comfort Lily can bring James if… now when Mr Potter finally is about to die.

"Good. Send you mother my love. And… well…"

Lost for words he hugs James hard. When they let go James's eyes are shiny with unshed tears.

"I don't know when we'll be back. Dumbledore said not to worry about the graduation ceremony, we'll just…"

"Just go, Prongs. I'll think about you. I'm here when you get back."

"We all will," Remus says. Peter just nods. Hermione comes down the stairs to the common room arm in arm with Lily, who looks as determined as James does. In a matter of an hour one third of their little group is gone, and when Peter leaves the following morning Sirius, Hermione and Remus feel rather lost. Hermione has a meeting with Professor Slughorn about her apprenticeship and leaves them after breakfast in the Great Hall. She still hasn't been too particular about what she will work with, and the green-eyed monster of jealousy can only whisper to Sirius that she will work with Severus Snape for a whole academic year.

"I'd be surprised if they will work on the same project," Remus drawls. "Or even talk to each other."

Sirius's wonders if his friend can read his thoughts.

"What?"

"Snape. You're jealous. She's off to Slughorn's office. You were thinking about our dear friend Severus and that he will work closely with your girlfriend next year."

"I didn't say…"

"No need. You get murder in your eyes every time Hermione mentions him."

"Well… I… Wouldn't you? Be jealous?"

"Of Snape, well yes. He has the opportunity to work with a really clever witch, but knowing him, he'll just compete with her. And lose. And I doubt they have similar interests in Potion making. He'll work with something nasty, true to his habit and general Severus-ness. She will… What is she going to work with?"

Sirius shakes his head.

"Don't know. She's been rather vague. Probably something Snivellus wouldn't be interested in."

"Probably? Definitely. You know him. You know her."

Relieved, Sirius breathes a little easier and changes the subject.

"Do you think James will manage? I mean, his father…"

"His father is a very sick man, Sirius. We've both seen him. He's been suffering for years. He hasn't had any good days for more than a year. James knows that, and so do you. I hope he really dies this time around. I know it sounds harsh, but I think the pain of seeing him suffer is worse than the pain of letting him go."

"Maybe you're right," Sirius sighs and empties his teacup.

"Hello. Do you mind if I join you?"

"Marlene. Morning. Please, sit down." Sirius makes room for his date of the evening and the Graduation Ball.

"Good morning, Remus," she says with a smile so pretty Sirius is confused. "Are you both looking forward to this evening? Where is James by the way? And Lily and Hermione?"

Sirius tells her and Marlene looks appalled.

"Oh no, poor James. I really hope everything works out for the best."

"It won't," Sirius snaps. "His father is dying."

"Well, maybe then that is for the best," Marlene says softly.

"Yes, Marlene, you are absolutely right," Remus says. "Sirius, please be civil at least. I know nice is beyond you."

Sirius wants to snap at Remus again. He is irritated and sad, and he knows it is unfair to take it out on his friends. It's a day when he ought to be carefree and light-hearted, not moody and cross with the world in general.

I need some space. I need to snap out of this.

"I'm sorry, Marlene. You are both right. So, about tonight, how about I come to the Ravenclaw Tower at seven and we'll go down together?"

Marlene beams.

"Lovely. Who is your date, Remus?"

"Um, I'm taking Hermione. I'd rather discuss spells with her than dance, but that's not on the timetable tonight."

Marlene laughs.

"It'll be a magic night. Maybe I could cut in and leave your date free to dance with someone else," she says with a nod in Sirius's direction.

Sirius leaves them chattering and climbs hidden stairs to reach the battlements. He hasn't been up here alone for more than two months, but today he needs the solitude and the blue sky above him. He reasons with himself.

It's about control. So many things are out of my hands. James's dad dying and me not being there. The way Marlene just smiled at Remus. What is Hermione really going to work with next year? How will Remus cope, here at Hogwarts, when James and I go to London? How will I cope? And what about tonight? It's a formal thing, the ball. How much will it resemble my mother's parties? Does Dumbledore really know what some of the decorations stand for? All the silver and black on every formal gathering carries traditions and symbols from the old class society, where pure bloods ruled and everyone else obeyed, most of all the muggle-borns.

A door creaks and he turns around to see who's disturbing his self-imposed loneliness. Hermione squints in the clear sunshine and his mood lifts.

"Remus guessed I was here and told you, right?"

"No," she says. "I did. Do you want me to leave?"

Does he? His dark brooding just left with a warm summer breeze and he smiles sincerely for the first time since James received the letter about his dad. He motions for her to join him and stands behind her to lock her in between his arms and the battlements.

"No. I never want you to leave," he whispers against the skin of her neck. She flinches and gasps. Sirius tries to write her reaction off to his closeness, sincerity, the view, but something unsettles him.

"We'll both leave Hogwarts," she says and leans back against his chest. You after tomorrow, and I… well, in a year."

"So, there is nothing I could say to persuade you to come to London to work or study there?"

Hermione shakes her head.

"What are you going to work with, love? Or is it somehow classified? Something Slughorn wants to develop into a profitable product? Or something to help Snivellus to get a nose, rather than a beak? Or something for his general greasiness?"

She laughs at his suggestions, even though none of them are funny.

"You don't have to pick on Sna… on Severus at every opportunity, Sirius. He… Maybe he's not as bad as you think. Remember Lily and he were friends."

"When they were younger. She's come to her senses now," Sirius answers stubbornly.

"I think Lily always has been an excellent judge of character. You are her friend, aren't you? And James and Remus?"

"And Peter," Sirius admits reluctantly.

Hermione clears her throat and coughs.

"Yes."

"But what are you going to work with, seriously?"

She turns around in his arms so he can see her face.

"Seriously, Sirius," she articulates the alliteration in a cut-glass accent, "I'm going to develop the potion Damocles invented a few years ago to lessen the symptoms of Lycanthropy. Apparently his original formula is lost and the inconclusive copies bring more side effects than relief."

"Werewolves? Really? I never thought…"

"Never thought what?"

"Never mind. But why?"

And there, on the battlements of Hogwarts, which Sirius so often has regarded as his own private space, this lovely girl delivers a small speech about the unfair treatments of the werewolf population, with an insightful understanding of people like Remus. She doesn't mention Remus, of course. She doesn't know, does she? No, she can't know, she mustn't. Or can she? She, if anyone, would feel empathy rather than fear. Academic interest in the individual rather than applying a broad-brush approach to the whole infected group.

"So, what do you think?" She looks up at him apprehensively and with some other emotion he can't decipher. He leans down to kiss her softly.

"I think there are many wizards out there," he gestures vaguely, "who one day will own their lives to you. Be able to have a life, rather than a night of ferociousness once a month. Most of them won't, of course, many of them prefer to live outside our society, just like the vampires, but some go through hell once a month and would give anything to find a cure."

"It won't be a cure," she says sadly. "Hopefully it will inhibit the infection, but there is no knowing what the long-terms effect will be. Even if Professor Slughorn and I can improve the potion, it might not work after a while. No one knows how the infection develops over time. Untreated it becomes worse and worse. The largest risk, as I see it, is that the infection somehow changes, and the potion will lose its effect entirely."

"You sound like you do when you and Remus are discussing something really unsolvable. Have you talked to him about it?"

The words are out of his mouth before he has had the chance to think about their meaning. He searches her face for her reaction, and there is something there. Something he can't put his finger on.

"No. But I will." She turns around again and leans against him. He slowly releases his breath and wonders how things will evolve. Leaving Hogwarts. Parting with Remus. Parting with Hermione, after the summer, when they go their different ways. He doesn't want to think about it. Not now. Not today. Playfully he tickles her waist and nibbles the skin of her neck. When she giggles and relaxes in his arms he feels at least a little carefree, like he should on the day of his Graduation Ball.

Hermione

Without Lily Hermione worries close to tears about her appearance later the same day.

Does this dress really fit? It shows off so much skin of my back. And these sleeves…

She pulls at the soft material to cover more of her upper arms, but it only results in showing off more of her collarbones, which are still too visible. Professor McGonagall has taught her a spell to make the scar paler and it's probably next to invisible if you don't know it's there. Her alleged godmother also gave her a thin silk shawl, more decorative than warming, but Hermione is grateful and arranges it over her shoulders. It's silver grey with lacy endings, and very pretty.

Hermione almost has hardly any jewelry, apart from the Time Turner, which she has kept in her bedside table for the last week. Up until then she hadn't felt safe enough to leave it, but now she does. She would have liked the string of pearls her mother gave her on her fifteenth birthday, but it is still at The Burrow where she left it before she went off with Ron and Harry, almost a year ago, in that other time line. She puts a pair of silver earrings on. She found them in London, and thought they would go nicely with the dress. Now she's not so sure. They are dark silver with some kind of sparkling stones. Maybe they are too much. She rearranges her hair, making the coiffure looser and lower. It's better. The alarm clock on Lily's bedside table tells her she is to meet Remus in the common room in one minute, and with a last ambivalent look in the mirror she leaves the room.

The common room is full of 7th year students. Mostly Gryffindors, of course, but a few young men from the other houses who have come to pick up their dates. Hermione knows Sirius isn't there, but is in the Ravenclaw Tower to pick up Marlene.

Remus stands at the bottom of the stairs and looks up at her. The butterflies that sometimes make her cringe in excitement or apprehension all come to life at once. It's the day before graduation. Tonight is the Graduation Ball. She has been asked to go with Remus, whom she's known and admired since she was 13. And Sirius will be at the ball, the ball he wanted to ask her to. Despite the fact that Hermione sometimes has thought that she, Ron and Harry grew up too quickly, in their very first years at Hogwarts, this is something else. It's not war, to start with. It's not about fear and risks and death and loss. It's a traditional rite of passage for young wizards and witches. Tomorrow they will be grown ups, also in the eyes of the world. Out of school and into life. She smiles genuinely at her date. Remus looks so good in his dress robes. He presents her with a small open box, which holds a tiny arrangement of white anemones and pale green willow leaves.

"They're charmed not to wilt," he says.

"Thank you. They're lovely." She fastens them on her dress.

Remus hands her a glass of something sparkling that Penny, the house elf, is carrying around on a tray. They toast and giggle.

"Can I have at least two dances with you, Hermione? Before he literally waltzes off with you?"

"Remus," she says and blushes. "Of course. I'm going to the ball with you. I can dance every dance with you, if that is what you want, but that would leave a lot of other girls rather disappointed."

Remus coughs and does not look convinced.

"He'd eat me alive, and I really wouldn't want to be on the other side of those fangs."

Hermione feels it's going to be a good night. She has no intention of dumping Remus as soon as Sirius walks into the Great Hall; she just hopes Remus won't shy away from Marlene when asked to dance with her.

The common room is almost empty, and they make their way to the portrait hole. Outside on the landing, Remus pulls her aside and lets a few other students pass them. The stairwell hall is dimly lit with candles, and his face is in shadow when he speaks. His tone is serious, and the butterflies inside her change their dance to something more foreboding.

"Hermione, wait. There is something I'd like to…"

"Yes?" Her voice is trembling. Why?

"To ask. No, to say to you."

She waits quietly, while her mind races.

"I know your secret."

She can feel her blood leaving her head and she grips the wall to balance herself. Remus takes her softly around her waist and steadies her. There is nothing threatening about his touch, nor is it intimate like when Sirius does the same.

Which bloody secret? I'm a walking filing cabinet of secrets! Which one has slipped out? And how?

"What are you talking about?" she asks softly.

Without answering he touches her left collarbone with his finger.

"About what you usually have here, around your neck. A thin goblin-made gold chain, ending in a miniscule hourglass. Your Time Turner. You are a time traveller, Hermione."

"How long have you know?" she gasps.

"I saw it, or I thought I saw it the first day, when I showed you the grounds. When you picked some anemones, like these." He gestures to the flowers on her dress. "What really convinced me was that night we studied until dawn. We talked about Star Grass and Moon Grass, remember? Sirius gave up in the middle of the night, even though he was jealous as hell and didn't want to let you out of his sight."

"I remember, but how?"

"You lent me your Herbology book. Then you fell asleep. I'd never seen that Herbology book before, it's not in our curriculum, so I studied it some more. It's printed in 1995."

Hermione's knees buckles and Remus pulls her into his embrace.

Not now. Not tonight. Not so soon.

"Is that's where you're from. 1995?" There is no accusation in his whisper.

She shrugs.

"Almost. 1998."

"Twenty years. But why?"

She shrugs again. Suddenly she feels so angry. For just a few weeks she has been able to feel like the young witch she pretends to be. A late transfer from Askrigg. Minerva McGonagall's goddaughter. And her new friends have taken care of her as kindly and welcomingly as she hoped, with what she knew about them in the future. Sometimes she's been really anxious about where it all will lead, especially with Sirius, but Sirius, on the other hand, is what's making it easier than anything else for her to stay in the illusion Professor McGonagall sent her to.

"I know about your secret too, Remus," she snaps before her mind stops her.

He straightens up, but doesn't let go of her. He is paler that she's ever seen him.

"My secret? What are you talking about?" His voice is as trembling as hers was.

Slowly she mimics his earlier movement with her finger, but traces a pale scar on the left side of his face.

"Full moon. Fangs. Losing control. Forgetting who you are." She touches the flowers on her dress. "The magic willow tree just outside the castle."

Remus's face shows so many feelings Hermione can't register them all. Fear. Anger. Relief. Sorrow.

"I never thought Sirius would…"

"He didn't," she interrupts. "As you said, as you have concluded, I am a time traveller. I've met you before. Later for you. I figured it out then."

"Did I…? Please, tell me you didn't meet me during a full moon. Please, tell me I didn't hurt you. Or anyone else."

"Once. I saw you transform once. The only time you hadn't taken your potion, the Wolfsbane Potion."

"The Wolfsbane Potion? But it's vile! The side effects are worse than… I've sworn I'll never take it again. I'd rather take the Draught of the Living Dead with a full Body-Bind Curse." He looks away, refusing to look directly at her.

Hermione puts her palm against his left cheek, over the almost invisible scars to get his attention.

"Look at me, Remus. I can well understand if you don't want to take it again, as the potion is now, but it would be a pity to say 'never', since that potion is what I'm going to work with next year, with Professor Slughorn."

Remus's amber eyes widen in surprise.

"I know a thing or two from the future. About the potion and about you. I can't tell you, or the others, exactly why I am here. I'm not allowed to change the past, merely to see some parts of it repeating itself."

"But for how long?"

"A few weeks ago you, the older you, said 'long'. I'm not sure exactly what that means, but I will definitely have time to develop that potion into an efficient formula. Some things in the future have given me hints that I've done it before, in the past. Another past. Maybe time isn't linear, but circular, and I'm bound to take this jump twenty years back again and again to refine the Wolfsbane Potion with Horace Slughorn. Eventually I might even find a cure."

The anger and fear are gone from his expression.

"You said something about a ball, Remus," Hermione says lightly. "Shall we?"

"Yes. Yes, of course," he mutters. "I need to get my head around this. It's positively mind-blowing."

"Yes, it is, but why not leave it tonight? Let's just have fun, eat, drink and dance. And maybe you should try to see yourself as something more than a threat to other people who might want to get to know you? Dance with you?"

She tugs at his arm and they begin to go down the stairs. Two landings below, Remus stops abruptly.

"Sirius. Does he know? About you being a time traveller?"

Remus's question is sharp, and Hermione is afraid of where it's going. She shakes her head.

This is it. This is why it will never work out, me and Sirius. No matter what bloody time line I'm in, I'm always wrong for him. But can't I please, please, please, be allowed to live in this illusion, just a little while longer?

"You must tell him! You'd destroy him, if you just left. You have no idea how much he's changed since you came. He adores you. He's been afraid of leaving Hogwarts, not that he's admitted it, not even to himself, but he has, and now he isn't. It's because of you. He'd do anything for you."

Hermione's blood whooshes in her ears at Remus's words.

"Of course I won't just leave. Not without explaining. How can you even think that about me, Remus? And I will tell him. Just not tonight. Can I ask you to keep my secret a little while longer?"

She can see Remus reasoning with himself. After a few seconds he nods.

"But before summer is over, Hermione. You can't keep him in the dark for longer than that. Not if you want him to be able to forgive you."

Hermione bites her lip hard to get control over her feelings.

"I promise."

Remus takes her hand and leads her down the remaining stairs. Students mingle in the Entrance hall, and quickly Hermione finds Sirius's and Marlene's dark heads. They look up at her and Remus, smiling, but in matter of seconds Sirius's face darkens. At a distance of twenty yards, Hermione sees Sirius grip Marlene around her waist, pull her towards him and kiss her hard.

"Oh, Padfoot, for fuck's sake…" she hears Remus say next to her, before the illusion she's hoped for, just a little while longer, explodes in a deafening clatter inside her.

But why did he go and do that? Reviews and speculations are welcome...