"Guess what?" asked Hermione, grinning as she lay on her side facing Sirius as he sauntered his way towards her with her usual blue pain potion, and a new bandage for her arm-she had twisted it violently in her sleep earlier and a few of the scabs had started bleeding again. She let him help her sit up and took the potion, passively giving him her arm for him to tend to.
"Good news, I hope?" he said, smiling back at her as he sat on the side of her bed and unwrapped her arm.
"Madame Pomfrey said I can start classes at the beginning of the week," her grin grew larger when he paused to look up at her, his face positively gleeful at the news. To be honest the news was a little overwhelming for her. She was twenty years in the past and surrounded by living ghosts. She didn't know how she was going to handle being around the Potters (or James Potter and Lily Evans, she supposed,) or Snape, or any Death Eaters she knew from her time that are just school children now. The thought of Peter made her shudder, not only with the prospect of interacting with him but having to tell Sirius that one of his best friends was the reason he lost so much in her future. But the look on his face, right at this moment, was worth putting aside her more confused and overwhelmed emotions.
Sirius leaned over and kissed the crown of her head, grinning madly. "I thought she was going to keep you in here forever! Have they given you your class list yet?" he asked excitedly as he reapplied some healing salve to her scabbing scar.
"All the core classes of course, plus Advanced Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes, Pomfrey apparently said something to Dumbledore and won't let me take anything else," she said, the complaint plan in her voice. Sirius just laughed having long figured out what kind of student Hermione was when she asked him to sneak her textbooks. 'It's horribly boring here and I might as well try and stay up to date with the classes.' So he brought her his History of Magic and Transfiguration textbooks as he hardly ever needed them. Binn's class was woefully droll and whatever he needed from the textbook in that class he could get from reading over Prong's book, and at this point Transfiguration was an easy O. He was astounded however when she got through both books by the end of the week. She sheepishly asked for more books and explained that without homework it was easier to get through them. He had taken to getting her stacks of books from the library whenever he found himself away from his friends. Usually about a half hour before the library closed.
He had never encountered someone who could devour books like she could, and Sirius considered himself a pretty well read individual, usually reading at least an extra book every week or two on top of their curriculum; usually a novel to break up the monotony of textbooks. Hermione on the other hand seemed to go through anywhere between 2 to 10 books a week depending on the thickness of the tome and subject matter. Although he was no stranger to the library, his increased visits and volume of checkouts had Madame Pince staring after him suspiciously. She hadn't said anything of course, the books were all returned on time and without any damage.
"That reminds me, Dumbledore told me he was going to send me to Hogsmeade to get you some general school supplies. Have any special requests?" He finished up wrapping her arm, using his now free hand to reach around and rub her upper back and shoulders, stopping occasionally to twirl a curl around his fingers.
"Not that I can think of," she said, somewhat foggy, his gentle caresses alway made her sleepy. "At least not anything you could get in Hogsmeade. I was lucky when Dumbledore had that pencil on hand the other day."
The gentle back and forth of Sirius' hand paused for a moment. Something in him lurched, a swift flame of rage that extinguished into a manageable, but still smouldering ember of frustration settled in his stomach. The idea of Dumbledore meeting with her when he couldn't be present felt like some sort of violation. He had been asked to continue being her guardian but then the Headmaster went behind his back to talk with her.
As not to let on to the sudden onslaught of negativity, Sirius continued his back and forth motions and spoke softly. "Has Dumbledore been coming to see you regularly?" he pried. Her eyes were closed as she hummed an affirmative.
"Yeah, he's been checking in on my notes and asking me questions about them. Even adding a few markers where he wants memories he thinks are more important that I originally thought." She said, absently.
Hurt spiked through Sirius, after the first look into the notes she had refused to let him see it again. He had assumed that she wanted to finish her notes and then tell them, or let them just read it and answer any idiosyncratic questions they had for her. He didn't realize that she would purposefully keep him out of the loop. He thought she trusted him enough, knew him enough from now and then to keep him in her confidence. He spent so much of his time worrying over her, trying to nurture that feeling of acceptance she intrinsically had for him. He wanted to he Her Sirius like she had referred to his future self, in whatever capacity that turned out to be. He already counted her as one of the few he held close to his heart. From the moment she opened her eyes and cried for him she was one of his people.
He involuntarily clenched his fist in the loose back of her sleeping shirt, and he could feel her back stiffening as awareness of what she said seemed to take her from her groggy state. She looked up at him and something in his face must have shown his feelings of betrayal because she suddenly sat up, his hand automatically loosening from her shirt, and grabbed both his hands, looking him dead in the eyes.
"Sirius Black, I trust you," she said to him imploringly. Squeezing his hands like they were a lifeline.
He couldn't hold back the derisive scoff, twisting his hands from hers. "Do you?" he snarled, leaning forward to stand, but she grabbed his hand and tugged.
"More than anything," she said hurriedly. Her eyes wide and pleading.
He held still, not convinced. "Then why are you keeping me in the dark and telling the man who would use you to whatever end he deems worthy, everything?" his voice was hushed but harsh in the quiet of the night.
She looked at him, her eyes so sad and hurt. "Because so much of that time would hurt you," she said, her eyes glazing in pain. "I don't know how to tell you. The entire time I knew you, you always had this look in your eye, this haunted, broken, angry look that never, ever disappeared." The tears that glazed her eyes spilled, washing away the betrayal he felt and leaving a confused ache behind. "Now I've gotten to know you without that look, I'm scared of putting it there myself. I'm scared that you'll blame me or not believe me, which I would understand, it hasn't even happened yet."
He sat back down, letting her grasp his hand. Suddenly taking in the weight she unwittingly came into possession of. The whole world hinged on her, yet she had enough left in her to care about him as an individual. He knew that she would care for everyone she could as individuals and not as chess pieces. It was something he always knew about her instinctively, but the revelation still struck a chord with him.
He gathered her up in his arms, cradling the back of her head with his hand. She shook, with sobs. "I don't want you to see my ghosts, because they aren't ghosts to you." He was still confused, still hurt that she was hiding this from him, but he understood that it wasn't out of distrust or some scheme. She cared too much. This girl who had been through true horrors, wanted to shield him from pain.
He let her cry, stroking her curls, remembering her telling him that the older him used to play with her hair too, and hoped that it would calm her. After a few minutes she stopped shaking enough for him to pull back to look at her face. The tears continued to slip down her cheeks, her eyes puffy, face pale, lips and nose flushed. He looked down at her and wondered to himself if seeing her in tears would ever cease to make his heart ache and throat close.
"You need to tell me." His voice was a whisper, and some of the dread she felt seeped into him at the heartbreaking look on her face, her bottom lip trembled, but she nodded. Pulling away from him she reached under her pillow and pulled out the black notebook and handed it to him tentatively. Almost like she was handing him a viper. He took the book and although in reality it weighed less than a pound, he felt like Atlas for a moment, holding up the sky.
Hermione pulled her knees up and stared forward blankly. "It's not complete, but it'll take you through my 5th year." Her voice hitched, breaking off jaggedly, sounding like she was choking back another sob. She covered her face with her hands.
Sirius, setting the notebook down on the bedside table, pressed her down onto the hospital bed. She lay down curling onto her side. Sirius nudged her over and climbed in after her, so that he was sitting up next to her curled form. He pulled her close, her forehead nestled into his lower ribs, his arm around her caressing her upper arm and back. Bringing his knees up he placed the notebook on his knees and opened it.
The devastation didn't take long. He felt his ribs tighten within the first page. It explained Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived and the significance of the death of his parents.
Sirius' best friend. His brother. And the woman his brother loves. They were murdered in their home by Voldemort. Their one year old little boy survived by a feat of ancient and pure magic and destroyed the darkest wizard of their details were methodical, written in a clinical way that contradicted the true feelings of the author.
Closing his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, keeping himself in the present. None of what had happened in the notebook had happened yet. Might never happen with the knowledge Hermione was presenting them with. He continued reading, briefly wondering where he was in the story when he read that Harry lived with his muggle Aunt and Uncle, but trusting that he would discover that in due time. He became increasingly awed by the adventures of three 11 year olds who unwittingly took on the most evil wizard in generations. He moved on to the second year and unconsciously pulled her closer when he read about Syltherin's monster.
He knew the legend all too well. It was a favorite story of his family, the creature that would hunt muggleborns. The pit in his stomach felt heavy as he read about her being petrified by the creature, and felt anxiety in the back of his mind knowing that it was still somewhere below the castle. The account of Harry killing the basilisk was unbelievable, but his mind snagged on the little asterisk by the mention of the diary with a H1 next to it, somehow knowing it was important.
The third year was the most startling by far. His body tightened when he read:
Sirius Black escapes Azkaban.
Hermione looked up at him, her eyes lazily trickling tears still. "Third year?" she asked him, just knowing what his body language meant.
"I was in Azkaban? That's why Harry was with his Aunt and Uncle?" Something in him rebelled against this. It didn't make any sense.
"You were innocent," she said in a choked voice. "They didn't even grant you a trial." She sniffed, her tears redoubling. Sirius just pulled her closer and braced himself to read on. His own eyes teared as he read on, whispering Peter's name in disbelief when he found out the betrayal. Even Remus bought into the ruse. Was their trust so tenuous that he wouldn't even question it? Or was the evidence so stacked against him that there was little that could refute his guilt? He just read on, his heart felt like it was splitting. It also felt like it was doused in fire due to the injustice. Even he couldn't comprehend the rage the older him must have felt when Peter got away the second time, ripping his chance at freedom, ripping away his chance to be with Harry- his godson, the boy that didn't even exist yet but he already felt was his boy.
Hermione sat up partially, and tucked her face into his shoulder, wrapping an arm around his chest, murmuring against him. "It hasn't happened. It won't happen. I won't let it. You'll never go to Azkaban, I won't let you. You'll know Harry, and his parents will grow old, and you'll have to take dog vitamins to keep up with Professor Lupin on full moons. You're going to have a beautiful life." Sirius let his hand come up to her head and bury itself into the curls, anchoring himself away from the terror life could be.
Despite the turbulent emotions he couldn't help but laugh through his tears when he read how she and Harry had saved him. The irony of her falling through again time only for him to find her was not lost on him.
She tugged the notebook from him and put it on the bedside table. "I think we both need a break. The next two years…" she paused as if to gather her strength. "I think the next two years is when our childhoods end."
Sirius swallowed, putting his nose into her hair. He wanted to just finish the damn book and get it all over with, but recognized that she needed a break from it. "You're going to have a beautiful life too, Hermione," he whispered into her hair. She didn't say anything, but he could somehow tell she doubted his words. "I'll make sure of it." If he could have seen her face, he would have seen a flush covering her pallid, tear stained cheeks.
They just stayed like that until she fell asleep, then he picked the book up and read until the notes ended. Leaving him feeling hollow. His death was the last thing she wrote about.
Sirius skipped breakfast the next morning. He woke up in the pre-dawn with his nose still in Hermione's hair and left the hospital wing before Madame Pomfrey could find him there. He wandered around the castle, thinking about his friends. It hurt. It hurt to think that in a few short years, in another timeline, James and Lily would be murdered due to the betrayal of Peter. Sweet, innocent, Pete. A Death Eater. Was he already defecting from them? When did it start? Hermione's notes indicate that it wouldn't be until after graduation, but Sirius wasn't too sure. What if the seeds were being planted now, while they were in school? What better place to dole out doubt and influence someone's mind than here?
He shook his head, reminding himself of Hermione's words, "It hasn't happened." It was a possibility, but it hasn't happened. Lily and James were still alive, Peter hadn't betrayed them, Remus hadn't abandoned him. He hasn't been imprisoned. He hasn't died.
His brain recoiled from the thought.
He headed up to Gryffindor Tower and gathered his bag, while everyone was still in the Great Hall and headed out a few minutes before the bell rang. He absently made his way to the Charms classroom, and almost didn't hear someone shouting his name in the din of his turbulent thoughts. He turned around to see Marlene jogging up to him and as he was coming back to himself, he barely was able to repress a distraught groan. Present concerns catching up with him.
"Hey!" she said as she caught up with him, curling a hand around his arm. He swallowed at the contact. She just grinned up at him, her beautiful bowed lips were a flattering natural red, and her blue eyes sparkled beneath lush blackened lashes. "Hey, you," she cooed up at him, the playful intimacy making his insides squirm uncomfortably. "It's been a while, I almost thought you were avoiding me." She laughed like it was an absurd thought, and he guessed that to the large majority of the Hogwarts population it was absurd.
He just deftly extracted his arm from her, careful to not jerk away and make it seem like he was disgusted or angry. "Hey Mar. What can I do for ya?" He asked, forcefully putting some of his usual charm and swagger that he wasn't feeling into his voice. Truth be told he was avoiding Marlene. He hadn't yet explained that he was done fooling around with her. Everyone else he had previously been involved with wasn't as regular as Marlene and didn't need to be let down. They'd just assume he lost interest, and in a way, he had. Although both he and Marlene knew the arrangement was purely physical, there was a certain bond that he was apprehensive to break. He didn't want to hurt her.
"Well~" she drawled out, stepping forward and brushing a hand up his chest and around his neck. "It's been awhile, and I figured it's about time we scheduled a little one on one tutoring tonight in the abandoned classroom by the divination tower. If you catch my drift." She scraped her bottom lip with her teeth, reddening it even further.
Sirius stepped away and cleared his throat, knowing the impending conversation couldn't be pushed aside any longer. "Marlene, we need to talk," he said, losing all of his usual flirtation, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. He watched her face drop, a slight frown marring her features.
"That sounds like a break-up conversation," she said with a forced laugh, like she was trying to convince both of them that wasn't even on the table.
Sirius didn't bother correcting her that there wasn't anything to break-up, that they weren't in a romantic relationship. They had that conversation a couple of times, about how this wasn't exclusive nor going to become exclusive. Sirius never wanted to fool the girls he was with into thinking they were getting something he wasn't offering.
"I'm sorry," he said earnestly and her blue eyes became watery. "I'm not…" he paused, trying to gather his thoughts and say exactly what he needed to say. "I want the real thing now, Mar."
She stepped forward the sad expression evaporating, her eyes glinting with hope. "Why are you sorry then?" his stomach flipped unpleasantly. Distaly he heard the sound of the school bell. "I can be the real thing. We can be the real thing," she simpered, leaning in and placing her head on his chest and wrapping her arms around him, her long, silky, blond hair draping elegantly down his front.
The image of voluminous, brown curls that pillowed against his shoulder and the hum of warm contentment in his chest flashed in his mind and he flinched away from Marlene. Her confused look just caused guilt to bubble up in him. Apparently they weren't on the same page.
"I'm sorry, Mar. I don't feel that with you." They just stared at each other. The sounds of students heading to their classes are the only thing breaking the silence.
Sirius half expected a scene. Either tears, or screaming, but neither came. She just straightened her back and headed into class, leaving him to stare blankly at where she used to be.
For the second time he heard someone calling his name. He looked up and saw his friends jogging up to meet him.
"Oi! Where've you been, Pads? You weren't in the dorm this morning and you missed breakfast," said James, pressing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, and looking at him in confusion. Remus who stood next to him looked concerned. Pete who was just catching up just looked out of breath at the moment.
"It's nothing…" he trailed off, looking at his friends. His head spun with the information he read the night before, Hermione's words echoing in his head; "I don't want you to see my ghosts, because they aren't ghosts to you."
How? How could things have ended up that way? He stared at James, his best friend, so full of life and confident of the future. Sirius had never thought about death. Not really. He had always thought about death as a distant thing, as something that happened to the very old or to other people, but never him and his inner circle. Until he found Hermione splayed out in her own blood, death hadn't really had a meaning to him. Now, however, he was starting to feel it's permanence- its inevitability. The first time in his life he feared death when the girl who looked at him like he was someone she dearly missed, nearly bled out in his arms. He now feared death, as he looked at his best friend with the knowledge of his near fated demise, Peter standing next to him, still innocent, still their friend, but now a liability.
His eyes flicked to each of his friends, watching their confused, concerned faces. He swallowed, forcing down his agitated and disorganized emotions. "Sorry, I just had to deal with the whole Marlene situation. I don't think she's okay with me right now," it was a half-truth, but he couldn't feel guilt over it. Not when he couldn't even really explain it.
The boys just nodded, Remus and James clapped him on the shoulders and they walked into class together. They settled down in their seats and got their supplies out of their bags. James predictably got a glassy, dazed look on his face when Lily passed them and sat a couple of rows down from them. A sudden chill passed through Sirius at the sight of her, like walking through a ghost.
Sirius shook himself, focused on the lesson, the streaming sunlight through the windows, the scratching of Moony's quill as he set up his oddly methodical notes, James levitating origami roses to drop into Lily's bag, Peter nudging him with his quill to ask for help with his pronunciation.
By the end of the lesson most of Sirius' usual mood had returned to him. His friends still gave him the occasional worried look, but seemed to let it go.
It was in the buttery evening light as they sat on the grounds that Sirius remembered that Hermione was going to be starting classes next week. Despite the flutter of excitement, Sirius felt a swell of anxiety at the prospect. It was easy in the confines of the hospital wing to feel safe, where she was shielded from the prying eyes of others. He knew that her appearance in the school would cause a stir, questions were sure to be asked, and anonymity impossible. They hadn't even discussed what her story would be, and anything he could think of was flimsy at best. She couldn't pass as a pureblood and hide behind a family name if none would recognize her, nor did she have the upbringing to back it up. In addition, if any family did claim ownership over her, she would be under the scrutiny of the entire wizarding world. A hidden child wasn't something that pureblood circles would ignore.
She was too well trained to not have schooling but as a muggleborn she wouldn't have access to private tutors, and saying she came from another school would be too dangerous when she had nothing to corroborate that story. No paperwork, no teachers who know her, no students that would write to her. Nothing. Even claiming her a Half-blood would be tenuous at best, it would still call into question her education, her family, and if anyone ever saw her saw her scars they'd know she was lying.
"Pads, mate. What's up with you lately" asked James, looking at him oddly when a couple of fifth year girls walked by giggling and blushing. They sent obvious glances at him as he lounged against the large sycamore tree and he didn't send a flirtatious wink and smile back at them.
"Hermione is starting classes next week," answered Sirius absently, snapping the peeled curls of bark that lay in the grass around them.
"Hermione?" James and Remus parroted together in confusion.
"Madame Pomfrey is letting her out of the hospital wing finally?" asked Peter from where he lay next to Sirius, his eyes closed, enjoying the heavy warmth from the sun.
"Oh! The hospital girl!" said James like a bulb went off in his head. "How'd you find that out?"
Remus just grinned slyly. "Have you seen her recently? Now that I think about it you've been smelling like someone new for over a month now."
Sirius felt his face grow hot. He was not blushing. He didn't blush. Sirius Black doesn't blush. But damn it, if Moony didn't make that sound incriminating.
He cleared his throat. "What'cha doing sniffing me, Moony. Checking to see if I smell like Amortentia?"
Ignoring the, quite frankly, weak comeback, all three of his friends just leaned forward grinning like wild hyenas. "Merlin's saggy left cheek! Sirius, you're blushing," said Peter.
Sirius just glared. "I am not blushing! It's just a little sunburn."
"Is she why you dumped Marlene?" asked Pete, looking like he just got the answer to the universe.
"What? No! It's not like that," he scrambled to get control of the situation. His friends were like sharks that scented blood, though.
"So, we're going to meet this mysterious girl of yours finally?" James prodded him in the ribs, making Sirius cringe in on himself and yelp.
"For your information Dumbledore asked me to help her out. She isn't my girl," a slight twinge of discontent zinged through him, that he refused to think about. "And I didn't break up with Marlene. We were never dating, it was just a mutually beneficial relationship that has come to an end." He groused, tucking his chin and crossing his arms, watching his friends for any sudden movements.
"Uh-huh," hummed Moony, his eyes glinting mischievously, leaning in and taking a deep breath through his nose. "Sure."