A thousand apologies. Maybe I fell into a time warp and... I don't know, but time definitely got away from me. All grammatical errors below are my own. Sorry for that, you lucky native English speakers.

Kia

Chapter 20

Hermione

It is the last day of summer. August is stiflingly hot in the west of England. Hermione will leave for Scotland tomorrow, and longs for cooler temperatures. She can only imagine how suffocating London, where Sirius is off to, will seem. They haven't been apart for many weeks and spend their last evening together alone. When Hermione puts the last washed glass on the dish rack she realises how much she will miss their life in the cottage. It's been like playing house, but for real.

Sometimes I feel no older than I did the very first time I boarded the Hogwarts Express. Where I met Harry and Ron. They tried to perform a spell on Scabbers to make him yellow, but failed. It was Peter. Was that why it didn't work? Can't think about that now. Not Harry, not Ron. And Peter is still good. He hasn't joined the Death Eaters yet. I've seen his arms, they're clean.

But sometimes she feels as old as Minerva McGonagall, with more experience, secrets and hidden agendas than she can control.

I'm this Hermione now. Sirius's Hermione, Lily's friend, Remus's friend, Professor Slughorn's apprentice. I need to focus on that. The Wolfsbane Potion and keep an eye on Lily. I know when she'll get pregnant, it's bizarre. In two years she'll have a baby with black hair and green eyes.

Sirius snakes his arms around her from behind.

"What are you thinking about, love?"

His breath against her neck makes her shiver.

Unasked-for memories of Christmas 1995 flood her mind.

I bumped into him on the couch in the library at Grimmauld Place. I could smell that out-of-doors scent of him, and some wine. I felt his breath against my face, like now. It was the day Harry had thought he was possessed, and Sirius wondered what I had said to him. Then he stretched his arm out, behind me and I felt his body heat against my skin. What was he thinking then? And then, later, I kissed him. I must have been mad.

"Just… just you."

"Ah, I like the sound of that. Anything in particular on you mind?"

He kisses her shoulder and his hands caress her breasts. It's difficult to keep focus, but Hermione wants nothing more than to loose focus and not ponder the recollections that play in her mind. Those strange memories of Sirius that she can't share with him. Ever. She turns around in his embrace.

"Oh, Sirius, I will miss you so much," she says against the skin of his neck, and she doesn't know if she means tomorrow or when everything will go to hell in a little more than two years.

"I'll be with you in less than a week. No more sleeping in dorms now when you'll be staff, right?"

She shakes her head.

"So, where are your new rooms? I haven't asked, because I don't want to think about the end of summer, but… well, here we are, at the end of summer."

"I'm still in Gryffindor Tower. There are rooms in the attic above the common room and the students' dorms."

"I didn't know that," Sirius says, and sounds surprised.

Hermione giggles.

"Really? Wow. I thought you knew every hidden room and short-cut in the castle."

"So did I. But anyway, I'll be with you there, in your attic rooms, in five days. Where will the Portkey take me?"

Sirius has bought a permanent Portkey with two destinations, one to the Ministry's Auror training, and one to Hogwarts.

"Just outside the gates around the castle. Professor Dumbledore didn't want it inside."

"Why not? Why not in your room? In your bed?"

Hermione kisses his pouting lips and laughs.

"If you got there when I wasn't in you'd be locked in. I can assure you I will have very complicated locks and spells to keep my rooms private."

"Being a prisoner behind complicated locks and spells waiting for you sounds rather like a dream. No obligations, no deadlines to meet, just lots of time while waiting for you."

Hermione feels sweat covering her scalp and the back of her neck. Her throat hurts and her eyes burn. Sirius has just described twelve years of his future life. In Azkaban. She presses her face against his chest and inhales his scent. His warm, young, slightly sweaty scent of life. The very first time she met him, in the Shrieking Shack, he was neither warm nor young. When they passed through the tunnel on their way back to Hogwarts she'd felt his scent and thought about death.

"Well, you won't," she whispers. "You will land outside like any other visitor. Since you can't apparate within Hogwarts grounds, I doubt Professor Dumbledore would allow a commercial product of transportation to be used inside the castle."

"I know, I know. I just want to get to you very quickly on Friday evening. I will miss you too. So much. This cottage will be so empty without you." He almost crushes her against him and she welcomes his hard grip that seems to squeeze the gloom out of her. Suddenly he lets go and cups her face. His gaze is so intense it hurts. "This cottage will always seem empty without you. You will come back, right?"

"Of course I will. Why wouldn't I?"

He falters before he begins.

"Maybe you've had enough. Of this secluded village life. Of the same country walk every day. Of bird song. Of me."

"No. Sirius, don't even begin to think that. Now, listen, I will never get enough of you. This has been the best summer of my life. I love you."

She sees the doubt leave his eyes.

"I love you, too," he whispers and lifts her up on the kitchen counter. They are on exactly the same level. "I want you here always."

Hermione puts her hand to his cheek.

"I can't be here always. Unlike you, I need to earn my living. Research, then career."

"OK. I'll change my previous statement. I want you always. Not necessarily here."

Slowly he leans in and touches her lips with his. Just as slowly does she respond. Her fingers know his body so well, but still she's thrilled to run them over his chest, shoulders, arms. Her body knows his touch just as well, but her breath catches in her throat when his warm palms slide over her skin. She winds her legs hard around his hips, wanting to loose herself in feelings rather than thoughts. Sirius raises a finger to her lips.

"No, no. Slowly. Tonight we go slowly." There is a teasing look in his eyes and his lips are curved into a tantalising smirk.

Hermione shivers, and calls him on his bluff. She bites his finger against her lips and pulls it into her mouth. At the same time she uses his body as leverage and pulls herself close against him. This usually makes all and every intention of going slowly to go… fast.

His hands are quick to grip her hips and stop her before she really has the grip she wants around him.

"I said slowly. I'm not going to see you for five days. I want to remember you begging, not myself forgetting every intention I have of pleasuring you and just fuck you." He pulls his finger out of her mouth and lowers his lips to her throat. With small kisses and nibbles he makes her head spin, but when she raises her hands to touch him he locks her palms against the kitchen counter. "Sit still," he chuckles. "Let me believe in this slowly-thing a little longer. I don't want your response tonight, I just want you. Sitting still."

Hermione has never heard his commanding tone directed at her. She is unsure if she likes it, even though it thrills her. When his tongue draws patters across her collarbones she decides she likes it and relaxes. Sirius lifts his hands to support her and she keeps her hands where he held them.

"That's good," he mutters against her skin. "You will sit still and let me taste you. I can't do that when you touch me. The melt-down of the male brain. I'll take you somewhere similar if you keep still long enough."

He slowly peels off her clothes. When his eyes meet hers they are still maddeningly teasing, but when he watches her body the intensity consists of something else entirely. Fire. Desire. Love. A look she so many times has mixed up with grief from the first time she knew Sirius. She focuses on the path of his fingers against her skin to erase the memories of an altogether broken, older Sirius. His touch easily grounds her in here and now, and when he motions for her to wind his legs around him, she follows his command.

He walks to the bed with her around him. When he kisses her, slowly and thoroughly, she feels him trembling, but when she tries to get the upper hand and control their kisses he throws her on the bed. Grinningly he hovers above her.

"I said slowly. I'll tell you if that changes. Close your eyes. Relax."

He touches her as light as a feather. He kisses her in places she didn't know would make her moan. The inside of her elbow. The fold of her knee. The palms of her hands. His mouth against her breast is like an electric shock. When he closes her lips around her nipple she hears herself sob. Still maddeningly slow he kisses his way down her stomach and she tenses up in anticipation.

"I said relax," he mutters when he locks her hips down and blows on her sex. She almost panics in his unrelenting grip, but he is quick to quell any feelings apart from intense pleasure by taking her with his mouth, his tongue and his lips. Her body tries to thrust but is firmly grounded by his hands and arms, on the bed. Time stops and she hears herself moaning his name.

Suddenly he is above her again, smirking down at her.

"Was that begging, pet?"

Trying to get her breath back she can only nod, and he slowly presses himself into her. Energy she didn't know she had makes it possible for her to meet his movements, and soon she feels herself climbing that slope of anticipation again. He thrusts slowly, true to his word, and she struggles to find her voice again.

"Sirius. Please."

"Please what, love?" he growls and looks down at her.

"Faster. Take me faster."

"What happened to slowly? Didn't we agree?"

"I didn't." And quickly she pushes him off and straddles him. "You've had your slowly. Now it's my turn."

But being on top makes slowly more pleasurable and feeling powerful and in control she takes him just as slowly as he just did her.

"Hermione. Please."

"What was that?"

"Enough with slowly," he growls and she acquiesces.

Later Sirius lies behind her and asks the question she has expected for a long time.

"Did we know each other before? In your other time?"

"Yes."

"It was 20 years into the future. Or will be."

"Yes."

"But how? I guess we weren't close. Not like this." He palms her naked stomach and kisses her shoulder.

"No. But I…"

"But you what?"

"I felt… You made me feel… I wanted to, in a way."

"Really? But why didn't we...?"

"Sirius, you were almost 20 years older than I. I was a school girl."

He sighs into her hair.

"Almost 40. I can't imagine I'll be that old one day."

That'll be how old you get. Period.

"I like school girls, ever since my first year at Hogwarts. I must have liked you."

"You can't imagine how your words are turning my memories of you into a dirty old lecher."

He laughs and tickles her.

"But you liked me," she continues. "I think you recognised me. From before. From now."

Sirius stumbles on his words before he gets them right.

"But where were you, then? They now-you, the naked-in-my-bed-you who must also have been almost 40."

"I don't know."

"But you know the future, right? You said you won't leave."

"I know. And I won't. I don't know everything that will happen. Or if it has happened before. This, I mean. You and I. I know some things, but I can't tell you. Please don't push me." She turns around to face him. "I will never knowingly leave you, Sirius."

"Except tomorrow, then. First thing."

"That's not leaving you. That's going somewhere else, to do things I need to do, want to do." She places a hand on her chest. "I will never leave you here, in my heart."

"Neither will I," he answers simply and leans in to kiss her.

Hermione doesn't sleep well. Both her sleeping and awake mind ponders what it will be like to leave the summer's bubble in Godric's Hollow. She is determined, even thrilled, to go to Hogwarts as member of staff, albeit a very junior one, and really begin to research the recipe for the Wolfsbane. She knows that Severus Snape will be able to brew it well later, and she doubts he will spend time to learn to do so now, in his apprenticeship year. She hopes that task lies on her, and somehow reaches Snape's hands.

And still she feels a deep sadness that Sirius and she won't be in the same place every day. It has been the most natural thing in the world to spend almost all time with him. And she will miss Lily, a lot. Sirius will visit often, but Lily has said she can't promise too much. There are internships at St Mungo, often scheduled during weekends, to accommodate the studies during weekdays. Lily is as ambitious as Hermione and will work as hard as she possibly can.

But I can't be expected to follow Lily as a shadow, can I? To be there for her if something happens? I wish Minerva had been a bit clearer on when I supported Lily, even if she didn't know any details.

It's already light outside when Hermione falls asleep.

Hermione suspects Professor Slughorn has spent at least half the summer holidays at Hogwarts. He has prepared two similar desks at the back of the Potions classroom. Both are well equipped with new cauldrons and plenty of reading material. Professor Slughorn shows Hermione and Severus Snape their respective shelves in the storeroom below the classroom, stocked with different ingredients. When Professor Slughorn leaves them to collect the Owl Post Hermione makes an attempt to talk to the young man she will work side by side with for the next year.

"What are you going to work with, pr… Severus?"

He is quiet for so long Hermione thinks he won't answer her at all, just look at her with his dark eyes, which reveal next to nothing. But, then again, this is Severus Snape, the man with the most eloquent pausing she has ever met. She remembers when Umbridge was on the war-path at Hogwarts, trying to humiliate and intimidate all members of staff, and questioned Professor Snape during a class. The pausing before he even began answering her questions was more suggestive than his actual words, which were uttered with the most bored disdain. He was the only teacher that didn't seem disturbed by Umbridge's rise to power. He didn't even seem to care.

"I am developing a salve to use on slashing cuts. There is a counter spell, but very few people seem able to get the incantation of it right, and thus causing unnecessary scarring."

"Oh. For wounds made with a Slicing Hex, for instance?"

Hermione is a little surprised by Snape's seemingly benign project. She wonders if he perhaps harbours hidden ambitions to become a healer at St Mungo's, but nothing in what she knows about him indicates that he was ever interested in magical medicine.

He lifts the corner of his mouth in the bleak imitation of a smile. If he hadn't been the master of silences speaking for themselves, Hermione would have expected a snarl to go with his expression.

"No. Any idiot can patch up a Slicing Hex, Miss Granger. I'm working on merging the counter curse into the salve itself. For decisively more severe wounds."

His patronising tone has already set Hermione's teeth on edge. And she will definitely not call him Mr Snape for the whole academic year.

"I see, Severus. For curses like Sectumsempra and cuts with knives cursed with Ever-Bleeding, then. Very commendable. And call me Hermione."

His eyes widen in surprise. Sectumsempra is his own invention, and Hermione knows this. Harry found it in the old Potions textbook he borrowed in sixth year. It wasn't until later, after Snape had killed Professor Dumbledore, and they all thought that he finally had shown his true colours, that Harry found out that the Half-blood Prince's book had been Snape's, and thus making it far more useful, albeit sinister, than a new book without added notes in would have been. Hermione guesses the curse that works like an invisible sword is no more than two or three years now, if it is true that Snape himself invented it. She doesn't think it is below him to find it in an older, rare book of curses, try it out and pull it off like his own.

"Yes," he answers flatly. "I didn't know you were that familiar with that kind of Dark Magic, Mi… Hermione. A particular kind of interest for someone like you."

"What do you mean, Severus?"

She expects some bigoted hidden meaning, but she can't put her finger to it.

"Excuse me. I spoke to quickly. Perhaps bleeding wounds is exactly in your line of interest. Professor Slughorn has told me that you are working on the lost potion formula of Damocles's Wolfsbane. I will assure you that my salve, or more concentrated, in essence form, will cover up less successful attempts of taming the madness within your furry little friend, Remus Lupin. Oh, yes I know. Thanks to Black it was almost the last thing I ever knew."

Severus spits out Sirius's last name with venom.

"My initial studies promise better result than dittany mixed with silver," he continues.

This is the man who loved, loves Lily more than anything. Maybe even more than James does. He put up with the scorn of almost everyone for years after Lily's death, he became a double spy mostly to honour her memory. His patronus mirrors hers. And he is talented. Both in Potions and inventing curses and spells. I must listen beyond that annoying drawl. He can't have a personal grudge against me yet, we don't even know each other. Unless he despises me by default, being muggle born and involved with Sirius.

"Really? But the silver represses the infection, doesn't it? Prevents it from spreading the infection at its normal speed."

"It does," he agrees.

There is a glint of warmth in his eyes now. Perhaps he will be able to work side by side with her, even respect her, if she shows him she can match him academically.

"It does," he repeats, "but the incantation Vulnera Sanentur not only eases the blood flow and closes the wound, it also cleans the wound of residues. Dirt. Lingering curses."

"I didn't know that," Hermione lies. "Thank you. But how can it help with werewolf bites? The infection enters the victim's bloodstream as soon as he or she is bitten."

"Yes, I know that's the theory. But, as I said, my initial studies are promising, even in the field of blood infections. Given a whole academic year, I'm positive I'll get results that will change the way we see magical wounds and their risks."

"Good luck, Severus. I really hope you are right. And if you want to discuss your findings, I'm all ears."

"Thank you. And I wish you luck with your endeavour. Control of the werewolf population would make us all safer."

"Hm. Yes. Well, my starting point is actually those who want an inhibitor potion. Research is no way near a cure, yet. The majority prefers, unfortunately, to live outside our society and welcomes their monthly transformations."

"But with a strong Ministry they might not be able to shun normal society, but have to submit to treatment. And be normal, working, contributing wizards for three out of four weeks."

Godric, how confusing! I hear the-strong-Ministry-view I can imagine him hoping for now when Voldemort is on his first rise to power, but his view on the werevolves as not quite lost hope is something I never thought I'd hear from him.

"Yes, Severus. Maybe."

"I have some reading to do. Excuse me. I'll see you at dinner."

"All right."

He turns around and leaves. As is his habit later, Severus is all dressed in black, even though his cloak doesn't billow quite as bat-like as when Hermione first met him.

Maybe we'll actually get along. But judging from how he treated me when he met me as his student, it won't end well.

During the week Hermione analyses the sediment of the Wolfsbane Potion in the three different vials Remus has left her. She also interviews him in depth about what he remembers from the occasions he took them. At the end of the week she has several ideas for which ingredients are vital for the potion, and a few ingredients she suspects are counterproductive in the calming, anti-transforming drug she hopes to develop. The root of liquorice does, admittedly, give the potion a strong kick, but its blood pressure increasing qualities might also increase thirst, anger and inhuman strength.

In the evenings she spends time with Remus, but both of them have a lot of reading to do. Mostly they sit in companionable silence in front of the fire in the staff's lounge, taking turns to fill each other's teacups. Severus disappears after dinner every evening, and even though Hermione wants to invite him to study with her and Remus, she is uncertain the silence would be as companionable if he were to accept. Instead she lingers in the Potions classroom before dinner to ask Severus about his research, and, on the few occasions he asks her about her findings and ideas she tries to be honest and open.

She doesn't go up to her room until late, and never before Remus. He has rooms across the hall in the attic above Gryffindor common room and students' dorms. She doesn't want to enter her empty room, with its empty bed until she is so tired her vision is blurred. She doesn't write to Sirius, because she can't find any other words than "I miss you" and just writing them brings tears to her eyes. As long as she is in her research role, in the Potions classroom, in the Great Hall for meals at the small table for junior staff, or reading in the staff's lounge she is focused on her work, but when she leaves that behind when she brushes her teeth at night, she feels as lonely as during the summer after Sirius died.

She can't let that happen again. She won't change anything in the past, but she will not leave it either. When the time comes for Peter to betray Lily and James and leave Harry an orphan, she will stop Sirius from going to Godric's Hollow in a daze of hate, revenge, loss and his usual recklessness. She will stun him if necessary. He might never forgive her for keeping the death of James and Lily a secret, but he will come to see that that sacrifice will eventually be the only thing that can bring down Voldemort. The ancient magic of love and of sacrifice.

I'm editing the next chapter for publishing. Perhaps a little thumbs-up, some positive feedback or some love in general could make me edit faster? Please? I've been away from writing this story for so long, I'm afraid I'm loosing focus or momentum.

Love from Kia