A/N: Sorry for missing a week. Life got a little hectic. I'll try to get chapter 7 up earlier this week. Huge thanks to poka! You're reviews are really appreciated.

Chapter 6: Mistakes of Logic

Friday June 14, 1998 | Ministry of Magic

Harry was at a complete loss over what to do. Running after Hermione hadn't felt like the right answer. Dumbledore agreed with the assessment. Having the headmaster there the night before had been a comfort. Someone who knew Hermione as well or better than he did, when he heard the sound of apparition… when he found the note and her ring, Harry was desperately grateful. Whatever she saw, whatever happened to her within the vision, Harry was convinced was influencing her. His greatest hope was that the morning would bring more clarity. That she'd shake off the effects of the prophecy. He had to be patient and wait for her to reach out to him. There were only a handful of places she would have gone. Her parents, 12 Grimmauld Place, or the Sanctuary. Their texting parchment was open on his desk as he worked. Glancing at it every few minutes. It remained blank. A file was tossed down in front of him, snapping him out of his internal torture. "What's this?" he asked, looked up at his partner.

Tonks eyed him as if she sensed his turmoil, not ready to call him on it. "Nelson dug that out for me. It's Umbridge's complaint. Well the one about whatever is haunting the prison. Give it a read and tell me it doesn't sound familiar."

The curly letters brought back terrible memories from his fifth year, but he forced himself to read the description. I wish to report the terrible event occurring in the dark of night. As we sleep, a black mass stalks the halls. It leaves behind a feeling of fear and has tried to enter my cell on numerous occasions. I do not believe it is harmless and this must be captured. He read it and reread it. It wasn't a dementor. Delores would have known if it was a remnant missed by the ministry when they cleared Azkaban of the creatures. Harry found Tonks looking at him expectantly. "You think it's Voldemort." He wasn't asking a question.

"Don't you?" Tonks was incredulous, sitting heavily in her seat, her hands up questioning his assessment.

"Why would he go to Azkaban?"

"Maybe he didn't. Maybe he was taken there."

"Tom," Harry said, standing, finally realizing her theory. "He's possessing Tom."

"He was held here long enough before being transferred. By that time, we thought Voldemort was long gone. It wasn't the highest priority to consider it," Tonks explained, looking concerned they missed the obvious.

Once Harry had left Tom the night he was apprehended, his mind had been preoccupied with Hermione. Getting her away from everything. Trying to help her heal. This theory of Tonk's wouldn't explain where the fragmented soul had been hiding during the time between Sadie releasing it and Tom being locked up in the holding cell. It was a long shot. Still, Harry was ready to go straight to the wizard's cell. Question him. Look him in the eyes and search for the familiar presence. Then he sat back down. "If we even try to inspect him now, his lawyers will have a fit."

"Most likely," Tonks agreed. "Which is why I think we organize a stakeout. Set ourselves up in our own cells. See if it shows itself."

Harry looked at the texting parchment on his desk again. He didn't know when Hermione was going to be ready to talk. He was going to make sure he was available. Sitting in a cell in Azkaban would likely be as miserable as any other place he'd spend the night alone. What if Hermione texted him while he was on the island? Getting back to the main land required some notice.

Tonks leaned over to see what he was looking at. "What's going on with you?"

Folding up the deafening silence, he stuck the enchanted parchment in his pocket. "Nothing. It's personal."

"Everything alright with Hermione?"

"No. Everything isn't okay," he told his partner honestly but didn't elaborate. "Let's put together an operations plan and run it by Williamson."

Not wanting to press the issue, Tonks relented and started to outline her initial thoughts.

~~/~~

Hermione was half listening to Maddy giving her a run down of her scheduled meetings for the day. She was on edge since entering the ministry. Harry hadn't tried to find her yet, that didn't mean they wouldn't run into each other. Waking up alone in 12 Grimmauld Place had been a cold dose of reality.

"Do you want to take a floo or apparate to Hogwarts?" her admin asked.

At the mention of her meeting with Minerva, Hermione held up a hand. It wasn't really necessary for herself to attend meet with the deputy headmistress. At the time of the request, Hermione hadn't had a program manager. Mary would be the one responsible for implementing the summer program. The reason she had requested an in person meet at Hogwarts was to ask her former head of house if she'd be open to offering counseling. With her most recent choices, Hermione wasn't sure she was interested in explaining herself. Fearful Minerva would offer Harry's arguments—that it was his choice to make, that any time they spent together was worth it, that he was already in love with her leaving him wasn't going to spare him pain, and it would only rob him of what little time they had… she was too raw to hear it all again. And the bigger problem of course, Albus Dumbledore would know she was there the minute she stepped onto school grounds. "Let's send Mary to Hogwarts along with my apologies for an unforeseen conflict. I'd like to schedule a meeting with Fiona."

Making notes, her admin didn't question her. For that she was grateful. Hermione's fingers flew to her ring finger before suddenly remembering the engagement ring wasn't there. She let her hands rest on her desk while Maddy searched a ministry calendar.

"Miss Fielding has an opening now but is tied up this afternoon. Do you want to use your executive time instead and keep your meeting at Hogwarts?"

"No. Really, Mary can handle the meeting. Move my executive time down. It will give me time to review applications for our remaining open positions."

An enchanted quill inked the changes. "Can I include the subject of your meeting?"

"Hm," Hermione started, thinking. "Prophecy follow-up. I didn't get to meet with her last night. I can go down now?"

"If that's what you'd like. I'll call down and let her know to expect you. And I'll get the applications organized for you when you get back. Anything else you need?"

Shaking her head, Hermione put her blazer on and gathered up a notebook. "That's it for me. If you don't mind, please check in with Mary to make sure she has everything she needs. I don't think she's been assigned an assistant yet." Walking as fast as she could without being obvious, she was confident Harry wouldn't be in the lowest levels of the ministry. The only risk was the lift. Considering using the stairs, her hip sent her a warning twinge. She wouldn't be able to avoid him forever and it wasn't what she wanted. She loved him and it caused her pain knowing she hurt him. Distance might make it easier. At least until she had an actual plan to change her destiny. There was no guarantee he would forgive her and take her back if she was successful. That brought tears to her eyes. The doors to the lift opened and it was blissfully empty. Pressing the button for the Department of Mysteries, her fingers again sought out the ring. She hadn't realized how much of a habit it had become for her to use the band to relieve tension. Stepping off the car, Hermione was surprised to find Fiona waiting for her. "Thanks for the last minute meeting."

"I heard you left abruptly last night. I was concerned." The older witch led her to the library. "Did you learn anything new?"

Keeping her back to Fiona for several seconds, Hermione pushed down the emotions. If she was going to find a way to stop the prophecy, she had to be ruthlessly logical. "Yes. We know Severus Snape is the halfblood who will meet the traveler in the Shrieking Shack. And I believe that I'll be killed no matter what we do to stop Tom."

Fiona processed the revelation and sat. "Are you sure?"

Holding up her hands, Hermione shook her head. "No. But yes. I have no proof, just what I experienced and understood in the vision. It's really hard to explain."

Thankfully, Fiona was very comfortable with such ambiguity. "What can we do to help?"

Finally relaxing, Hermione sat. "Well. I want to see what can be done to offer more protections to whomever is tasked with entering the world after time changes. What I've witnessed is catastrophic change. We can't know that the unspeakable in the time chamber would even be alive if they leave the protections."

"Well. Ideally they'd use the time turner to go back at the point of change."

Tapping her fingers on the arm of the chair, it was a valid point. She'd have to be more specific. "The traveler doesn't."

Fiona's eyes grew large at the implication. "You think there will be a reason for you to enter the changed timeline."

"I suspect that will be the case. If the prophecy is real," she put the caveat out there. Her dislike for divinations was not entirely out of disbelief in the art anymore. Her favorite subject had been Arithmancy after all. There was order in the universe. Order that somehow fought the forces of entropy that were preferred by nature. The visions she experienced were from a prolific seer. The very fact she could see these things when she held the orb was evidence of how urgent the prophecy was to the seer or to the universe. A part of Hermione was starting to suspect the vision was what impressed upon her the need to find a protection for the killing curse. It had felt like an obsession she couldn't stop thinking about. Not unlike legilimency forcing her mind to certain topics. Her desire to find additional ways to protect the traveler felt similar.

"What could we do? Try to develop a portable event horizon? That wouldn't allow you to interact with anyone on the other side."

Hermione pulled out her mokeskin pouch, opened it to reveal the lining. "Swooping shadow scales. I'm not sure the theory has been tested. Newt believes they can offer protections."

"Protections. Maybe. Keeping someone from ceasing to exist? Not likely."

"If I'm not in the timeline when the change happens, I don't think I would cease to exist if I enter it after the tsunami of change is complete."

"That's a controversial interpretation of Beckett's laws," Fiona replied.

It wasn't controversial for Hermione. It was the only explanation for how she'd be able to meet Snape in the shrieking shack. Even if she was alive in that timeline, it would be impossible for that person to travel freely in the world. If she was free. There were too many dark possibilities. Deciding it was best to change the subject, she considered the other possible strategies. "It's that or a proactive approach."

"Hm," Fiona considered the implications, clearly understanding Hermione's assessment. "We can't authorize you to use a time turner proactively. There needs to be an active threat to a specific date."

Bristling at the words, Hermione tried not to get frustrated at the cautious protocols for preserving time. "We have a date and a credible threat. There is a time turner unaccounted for and a prophecy that has shown us the exact date, July fifteenth, 1980."

Sympathy exuded from Fiona. "Yes. But both Tom and Bellatrix are in custody. Unless and until that changes or until its clear someone else has possession of the time turner we can't send you back in case there's a change. I'm sorry Hermione. What would you do, jump to July fourteenth and keep jumping back until something happens?"

"Yes."

"It could take years. Decades. If something ever actually happens. I know it's tortuous to wait, but it's the law. If you want to be proactive, the best thing we can do is find that time turner."

It was a frustrating answer, but one that Hermione understood. Finding the device was out of her hands. Living in the time chamber was impractical, even if Fiona would agree to such an arrangement. The modified time turner was not a device she'd have access to. There wasn't much she could do. "I'd still like to work with Newt to fashion a cloak or suit. I'd need help testing it's capabilities."

"We'll provide whatever resources we can. We'd be invested in any tool that could be used to protect our Unspeakables."

It was something. It was more than she was expecting. Staring into the fire, she wondered if she could convince Williamson to let her talk to Bellatrix. There might be something said that could give them a hint as to where the time turner was or if Tom knew where it was. That would have been an easier request yesterday. Then an idea came to her. Narcissa. There was a possibility she would know where her sister would hide something so important. Shaking her head at the thought, it said a lot that she'd rather meet with Narcissa than ask for Harry's help to talk to Bellatrix. It was a terrible mess she made. "I'll ask Newt how easy it is to gather the scales." Hoping they were shed, she wouldn't go so far as to have one killed to provide the material. There were limits to what she'd do.

"Hermione. Are you okay?"

The question was unexpected. Hermione didn't answer right away, trying to figure out if she had said or done something that would suggest she wasn't. "I am. The effects from the vision lingers. I guess."

"I know this uncertainty must be terrible. You're welcome here anytime. This library has titles you can't find anywhere else."

Hermione smiled. "Be careful what you offer. You might not be able to get rid of me." She looked in the direction of the time chamber. "I wondered if I could come and take a look at the tempus tomes sometime? See if something might make sense to me that might not for others?"

Silence indicated Fiona was considering the possible implications of granting such a request. "I guess we have Albus poking around, it wouldn't hurt to include you. Especially since you're able to apparate there whenever you would want. Just… don't spend an unhealthy amount of time inside. The mess that is time can make one go mad if they try to make sense of it. And you can start to see things that aren't really there."

Standing, she nodded. "I understand. Thanks for your time." Her mind was preoccupied as she made her way back to her offices. Reaching out to Newt would be simple enough. Narcissa was entirely different. Lucius was in a precarious position. Any meeting would need to be absolutely secret. Assuming the older witch would even agree to it. Of course she would have been questioned already about her sister. She didn't know if it would have been a priority to find out if she knew where her sister would hide something valuable. Taking a stack of files from Maddy, she sat at her desk, thought about the time record below her. She reached for the mokeskin pouch, fished out the ring bound to her that would allow her to apparate into the event horizon anywhere, literally in time where the room existed. Placing it on her right hand, her fingers on her left turned it. It wasn't the same as the engagement ring, but it might be enough to keep her from reminding herself of her decision.

Before she could get to work, a letter arrived in her inbox. Recognizing the distinctive writing of Albus, she shook her head. She couldn't read it there. She'd take it with her when she left and would read it at Grimmauld Place. It turned out, trying to work, knowing it was there unopened, was nearly impossible. With a great sigh, Hermione picked it up, grabbed a tea and sat at her fireplace.

Hermione,

I understand you're doing what you think is best. My intent is not to pressure you to change your mind. I merely wish to remind you that prophecies are tricky matters. As you know, some are self fulfilling. You should know, the sanctuary is always available for you and if there is something that can be done to ease your fears that led you to this decision, you need only ask. I made choices in my life that I thought were for the greater good at great personal cost. In hindsight, there were ways to have both without great sacrifices. It took me decades to learn that. If my lived experiences can keep you from making the same mistakes, I would like to help. When you're ready to talk, you know where to find me.

Albus

The letter hadn't been as bad as she thought. He wasn't the one who would feel betrayed though. Still, she wasn't ready to talk about it all until she had a plan. Summoning some parchment she sent off a request to meet with Newt. The second letter was more complicated. Tapping her finger, she considered the Malfoys. Settled on Draco being a possible go between, she asked to meet him somewhere of his choosing. With those letters enroute, she felt pressure lifting. The files at her desk were calling to her. Even after promising to herself that the job needed to come first, she was still letting the situation with Tom interfere. Now, though, she had to admit it wasn't really the situation with Tom that was the problem, it was the situation it created between her and Harry that was pulling her away from her responsibilities. It had to stop. She returned to the files and organized them by initiative.

~~/~~

The wind rattled the shutters on the window of the small cell. It was the only sound that could be heard. It was an eerie atmosphere. Harry was sitting in a chair next to the bars. The walkway on the other side of Umbridge's cell had been desolate for hours. He knew it might take several nights to catch whatever she had seen. If she had seen anything at all.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on with you?" Tonks whispered from her perch on the bed.

Harry continued to stare through the bars. "No," he finally answered. He could feel her eyes staring at the back of his head. He sighed, ran his hand through his hair. "Hermione. She held that prophecy. Whatever she saw or felt has her convinced she's going to die fighting Tom. Or Voldemort. It's not clear. She thinks leaving me is going to protect me."

A rustling announce his partner sitting up in surprise. "She left you? Harry. Oh. Harry. She'll come back. All this stuff, it's just messing with her head. How could it not?"

Nodding his head, he agreed. It didn't make the hurt sting less. "We've been fighting this fear of hers all for weeks. Maybe way before then. Voldemort. He told her she wasn't supposed to be with me. He changed the past to make sure she was close when he activated the Umbra. I think these fears have been with her since he told her." Harry wasn't really sure what to do. Reasoning with her hadn't helped. If he had to wait until Tom and Voldemort were dead, he'd wait. Thinking about Tom in the lowest, most secured cell, he wished he could just go down there and take care of him. Getting himself locked up for murder wasn't going to solve his problem though.

"Did she go to her parents?"

"I don't think so. They're still not on the best terms. I think she went back to Grimmauld Place. I asked Gerty to make sure it was stocked and if Hermione was there, she should stay and take care of her. I guess I'll find out for sure when I get home."

"Do you want me to talk to her? I know a thing or two about how it feels to be kept at arm's length for my own good."

Before the moment, Harry hadn't thought about the parallels. He turned in his chair to look at her. "What finally convinced Remus to get over his concerns?"

That earned him a snort. "You think he's over his concerns? I think he'd leave me before every full moon if I let him. But honestly. I think it was you who finally convinced him to get over his fears."

Thinking back on the day Remus showed up at 12 Grimmauld Place, it might have been the only time he had been genuinely angry at the man. "Do you think he might be willing to talk to her?"

"I'll ask him this morning when I get home. Don't worry. She loves you."

"That's the problem," Harry said and turned back to the dark corridor. As the night stretched into sunrise, he had to admit the stake out was a bust. Standing to stretch, he opened the bars. "Maybe tomorrow."

"Too bad we can't just inspect Tom. See if Voldemort is possessing him."

"Williamson said we can't without cause. He's afraid the lawyers will use it to get a mistrial."

"That's bullocks. Bloody solicitors."

He couldn't argue with the assessment. Checking in with the day shift, they made their way to the mainland and promised to meet up that afternoon after a shower and a nap. When Harry apparated to the house, he was disappointed to smell bread baking in the kitchen. It meant Gerty hadn't found Hermione. Concern spiked. He was nearly certain she wouldn't have gone to her parents. Turning the corner he saw Kreacher pulling a loaf of sourdough bread from the oven. "Kreacher?" Harry nearly asked what the house elf was doing there but was afraid it would come off as an insult.

"Master Harry. Gerty asked me to stay and help while she takes care of Grimmauld Place. Kreacher doesn't understand why he can't switch places, but will go where Master Harry says."

It was a dilemma. Kreacher would certainly be happier in the old Black estate. He got along better with Hermione than the day they first met. That wasn't saying much. He still had a tendency to let his opinions of muggleborns slip. Harry didn't think Hermione would even consider switching places with him. "I think it's temporary. If you want to go back to Hogwarts—"

"—Kreacher didn't say that, did he? Gerty insists she's staying with Master Hermione. Kreacher won't argue. There'll be french toast for breakfast. Ten minutes."

"Brilliant. I'll shower," Harry said, headed for the stairs. The house felt empty without Hermione. Still, he resisted the urge to text her. Whatever she was going through, it was clear she wanted to do it alone. As much as it pained him to accept that, he'd respect it. For now.

~~/~~

Saturday June 15, 1998 | 12 Grimmauld Place

"Gerty, I'm going out," Hermione called out while she pulled her hair up. She was glad to have the house elf in the house, more for the company than the housekeeping. Still she had tried to send her back to Harry until Gerty explained the arrangement she made with Kreacher. Putting her wand down on the table, a small paper lunch bag appeared next to it. "Thank you!" she yelled, not really wanting to eat. She'd find someone in Carkitt Market who needed a meal.

A knock at the door had Hermione turning on her heel toward the entrance. Her stomach flipped. She'd been waiting for two days for Harry to find her. Would he knock at his own house? Of course he would. She could go out the back and apparate away from there. It felt cowardly. Then again, she'd already run away from him. Taking a small breath, she opened the door and was surprised to find Remus Lupin on her doorstep. Her brain worked to understand what would bring him to old Black Manor. She just saw him in the office the day before and he said he had everything he needed. Then it dawned on her that the only reason he would know someone was at the house was if Harry mentioned their situation. "Well. I didn't see this one coming," she admitted, moved aside to let him in.

Remus stepped in, held out his hands in a gesture of peace. "It's not my intention to meddle. Tonks just thought I might have a unique perspective on the situation."

"I don't…" Hermione tried to understand the leap in logic. It didn't take her long. "Remus. I know what I'm doing looks like I'm…" She stopped, trying to find the right phrase that wouldn't offend him.

"Running away because you're afraid to be happy," he helpfully supplied.

Taking a breath in she considered the estimation, then she let the air out. "Is that what you think? Is that why you resisted your relationship?"

"Resisted," he tested the word before clarifying, "I was flat out terrified. I've lived with my affliction my entire life. I didn't choose it for myself and I told myself it was selfish to force it on others. On people I love. What I didn't appreciate was I was making the choice for them. I was essentially doing what I feared for them."

"Look, Remus—"

"—you think you're going to spare him greater pain by inflicting a small injury now. But really, you're creating the thing you fear. You don't want him to suffer another devastating loss. It's too late."

Hermione wasn't ready for such a harsh truth. She wasn't in a position to fully process it. "I just… I need time to figure out if I can stop this. I can't stand in front of him and promise him forever if I know I can't even promise tomorrow."

"That's really not entirely your choice. In fact, you're not making a choice for yourself at all, you're making his choice for him. And that's incredibly unfair. He's not asking for forever. I don't think he's even asking for tomorrow. He wants today."

She spun her ring around on her hand. "Remus. I… I need some time to think about this and I'm going to be late for a meeting."

"I understand." He walked with her toward the front door. "I hope I wasn't out of line. Coming here. I didn't think this was a conversation that would be appropriate for the office."

Hermione took his hand. "You're a good friend. To both of us. I needed to hear that." Locking the door, her lunch bag she forgot on the table appeared in her hand. "Did you eat?"

"I did. You should too. I'll… I'll see on Monday."

Standing on her toes, she kissed his cheek and then apparated to the entrance of the market. It was a short walk to The Hopping Pot. Stationed out front was a vendor that was selling amulets. Items she knew to be practically useless. Handing him her dinner, she walked into the pub. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the low light. It was cleaner than the Hog's Head. That was a low bar. Catching the flash of platinum blonde hair, she walked with purpose to the table in the corner. "Thanks for meeting," she told Draco and started to wave off the server.

"Best get something to drink. It'd be strange to come here and not."

Ordering a firewhiskey, Draco's eyebrow raised in surprise.

"I'm not sure you can help me," she started in a low whisper. "Your mum might be better. I didn't think even asking for a meeting with her was a good idea." The amber liquid appeared in front of her. She picked up the glass and sipped.

"Not likely," he agreed. It sounded like Narcissa wouldn't meet with her even if a request was made.

"If your aunt was going to hide something. Where would she put it?"

His eyes narrowed at the question. She couldn't tell if he was annoyed about the reason she was meeting with him, or reacting to the thought of Bellatrix. "Not her vault at Gringotts anymore. You saw to that."

Hermione didn't respond. She knew his family had been punished over the theft of the Horcrux. There was quite a lot to say about the entire situation. It wasn't the time.

"What is it you're looking for?"

She wasn't going to tell him. "Somewhere she could apparate to. Maybe close to the school," she explained, knowing the time turner was stowed away when Bellatrix found Voldemort in the cave near Hogwarts.

"I don't really know her, Granger. She was in Azkaban most of my life."

Not surprised but still feeling disappointed, she sat back in her chair. She was pretty sure the cave had been thoroughly searched. Maybe the Aurors missed something. "I know." She started to stand. His hand shot out to stop her.

He looked around to make sure no one was listening. Hermione took out her wand and used the muffliato charm. "No one can hear us."

"You know what they have my dad doing."

"He volunteered."

At that, he scoffed. "Like he has a choice in the matter."

"Tom is a real threat. Your dad is in a unique position to help." As she watched him scowl. "You're jealous of him," she realized.

"Don't be stupid Granger. I may not want to go back to that bloody school, but I don't have a death wish."

Hermione wasn't going to press him on his reaction. It wasn't her job to help him come to terms with his decreased stature in his world. Being demoted from the youngest death eater to take the mark to a sixth year Hogwarts student had to sting. "I'd like to talk to your mom. I didn't know how to get her that message without endangering her and your dad. Can you ask her if she thinks there's a hiding place Bellatrix would have used that we haven't found yet." She was ready for the exchange to be over. "Do you have a painting of Walburga Black in your home?"

As Draco leaned back in his seat, he sensed the change. "We do. That bloody witch. They moved her to the attic. She's a nosy one. Why?"

"I have access to one too. Your mum can contact me through her. If that's acceptable."

Confusion flashed over Malfoy's face but he didn't ask questions. "Fine."

Hermione stood and left the pub. Lingering in the street, she considered what to do. Forced to admit there wasn't much left and she'd be relegated to a lonely Saturday in the cold Islington home. A fitting consequence. Apparating to a familiar alleyway, she headed for Grimmauld Place as she half wondered if Fiona would let her in the time chamber. It would be a better use of her time. Movement on the sidewalk caught her eye. Her wand was out before she recognized Minerva. With a small sigh, she put her wand away and called out. "Did Harry or Albus send you?"

The regal transfiguration professor turned gracefully and smiled. "Albus," she said simply and honestly.

"Albus," Hermione repeated, walked up to the door and unlocked it. Motioning for her former head of house to enter. "Let me guess. He's not worried, just concerned."

"Something like that."

Walking down the hallway, she glanced at the spot Walburga used to hang. She'd need to bring her down from their own attic. Leading McGonagall to the study, Hermione caught Gerty's curious eyes tracking them. "Can we get you some tea or coffee?"

"Tea would be nice," Minerva said, not asking who the "we" referred to and sat. "This place never feels clean does it?"

Cutting through the tension, Hermione sat across from her. "Never. No matter what spell or cleaning potion is used. It's more than an old house. It's like there's a residue from the former owners." Hermione considered her time spent in the house. Not just on the run. She spent most of her summer between her fourth and fifth year helping Sirius and Molly exterminate the place. She still felt a pang of guilt over the time she spent with Harry's godfather while he was stuck at the Dursley's. Hermione's eyes slide to a large bookshelf next to the fireplace. Sirius had been so happy to have company after so long by himself. He never treated her like a kid. They had many late nights in those very chairs discussing magical theory and ministry politics. It wasn't until that moment did she realize how much his philosophies had shaped her perspective on some matters. He was Harry's godfather, but he was her friend.

"I was surprised to learn you were back here."

Cutting right to the chase, Hermione thought. It was actually refreshing. Pushing aside the sadness over the loss of Sirius, she pushed on, "I need a place where I could think."

"Hm. How's that going?" A tea service appeared next to them. Two cups were poured and steaming. Neither witches reached for one.

"Well. I just started," Hermione answered flatly. She hadn't made much progress.

Accepting the answer, Minerva added some milk to her tea and sipped it thoughtfully. "Is it a topic one should spend time thinking about alone?"

Hermione wasn't ready for the conversation. She heard rumors of their professor, never thought to ask if they were true. It was a good time to change the subject. "You married after the war."

To her credit, Minerva didn't bat an eye. "I did. I turned down two proposals before that."

Sensing the sadness behind the words, Hermione wondered if she should continue. "I'm sorry. I don't want to pry."

"Considering I'm here to pry, I suppose it's only fair. I loved a muggle at a time where that was a complicated situation. The statute of secrecy back then didn't even allow for witches and wizards to tell their muggle spouses what they were. I watched it tear my parents apart and didn't want that for my Dougal. Then Elphine offered a happy life at a time where I still wanted that with Dougal… who had moved on and married by then. I suppose some heartbreak takes more time for others to heal."

Heartbreak. It was something Hermione had to admit she was dangerously close to doing to Harry. If she hadn't already. Looking at her ring finger and the absence of the lily ring, she asked, "Do you regret your choices?"

Minerva considered her answer for several seconds. "I should think that regret's only useful purpose is to keep us from making the same mistakes in the future. Not to punish ourselves. I did what I thought was best for the people I loved. That's not wrong. It's only harmful if it comes at your expense. We can make necessary sacrifices in life. Sometimes we make unnecessary sacrifices too."

Was it necessary? She was starting to doubt. Either as a result of Minerva and Remus' counsel or the time away from the effects of the prophecy.

"Hermione." The use of her first name sounded strange. Rarely did McGonagall drop the formality. "You don't owe anyone an explanation. This is your life to live. If you're making choices to live someone else's life, well that's a problem."

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean."

"Expectations can be a hell of thing. Whether they are placed on us by ourselves or others. If you're trying to live up to an expectation, that's not living."

"I'm afraid it's more complicated than that," Hermione replied, trying not to sound defensive.

"It might be. But you've spent two years being asked to set aside your comfort, your safety, your well being to the greater good. Living a happy life now may seem like an extravagance or even an illusion. You've been conditioned to think that disaster will always be right around the corner, waiting to destroy any happiness you've managed to find. It might even lead you to be the hand of that destruction preemptively."

"I didn't ask for this. For any of it." Her voice cracked.

"Of course you didn't. I'm not saying you're wrong to have these fears. Just… consider where they come from. Understand how the events of your life might make you predisposed to anticipate the worst."

"What if there's a prophecy that shows you the worst is just the beginning?"

Minerva smiled kindly. "If that's true, then all the more reason to experience all the happiness life can afford now."

~~/~~

Sunday, June 17, 1998 | Godric's Hollow

Ron stepped out of the floo, a stack of books tumbled onto the ground in front of him. Harry heard the thuds and poked his head into the living room. "All right, there Ron?"

"No," he grumbled as he gathered up the pile around his feet. "I'm never going to pass this exam."

Stepping up to his friend, he picked up a stray binder. "It's not so bad. You're just nervous because it's the first one," Harry encouraged and led Ron to the study. He had a board set up with an outline for the criminal law section. He remembered that being the most important. Kreacher already had snacks and drinks set up for them.

Ron dumped his textbooks on the desk and flopped down in the chair, picked up a pasty and took a big bite. "Hmmm, these are gud. Hermione doesn't care you're spending your Sunday helping with this."

Harry stood a little straighter, grabbed himself a pasty. "Well. She's not here."

Ron offered a sympathetic look. "That job of hers is mental. I bet she works every weekend and likes it."

Not bothering to correct Ron's assumption, Harry still wasn't sure how to tell anyone what had happened. A part of him was hoping she'd change her mind before he had to. Telling Tonks didn't bother him. He trusted her to keep it to herself. Partners needed to know what was going on in each other's lives. Things that could distract them and make them make mistakes. It wasn't just his life that could be compromised through distraction.

"Did you see the new reports from Azkaban?" Ron asked, flipping through his notes.

"Are there more prisoners catching the bug?" Harry asked. Several people were showing up at the infirmary with troubling vitals. There was no apparent cause. It was hard to know what might be lingering in the fortress after centuries of dementors and torment. After a short stay with the healer, they all seemed to sleep it off.

"Two more," Ron explained. "Kinda weird who's not getting sick though."

At the observation, Harry cocked his head. "Who's that?"

"Tom, Bellatrix, and Sadie. Dolores too, but what virus would want to catch Umbridge?"

It was curious. He was impressed Ron had made the observation. "It could be how isolated they are from everyone else. They're in the most secured areas for a reason."

"Maybe. Looks like we're moving Bellatrix next month to Stonegate. Maybe we could put her in the general population to make sure she's too sick to enjoy her quarterly stay."

Harry did know about that transport. He'd read her statement himself to make sure she hadn't left out anything important. It was surprisingly and painfully thorough. Seeing Bellatrix's account of the torture of Hermione on parchment was an entirely different perspective. He wanted to see Hermione. Knowing he needed to give her space, he'd wait until the timing felt right. The situation they were in couldn't be reasoned out of. He knew that now. Her fears might have been amplified by the prophecy, they were always there. Holding them back. It was hard not to feel hopeless. Until he remembered how much love they had for each other. Demonstrative love. Setting it aside, he turned his full attention to his friend. "Should we start with warrants?"