A/N: The biggest thank you for all your reviews, favorites and follows after the last chapter! As I said, I really wrestled with this decision for a long time, so I was glad to hear from so many of you. That said, I am really excited to share this third arc of the story with you. The chapter count might go up again, as I've been actually writing things, but I will let you know when I decide. Huge thank you to lanamarymack for alpha/beta reading this chapter! You can find me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions! After last chapter, we had some wedding robes discussion.
Please let me know what you thought of chapter forty-nine and be on the lookout for chapter fifty soon!
Her head felt like it was full of cotton wool when Hermione began to wake up from what was almost certainly a terrible dream. Every muscle in her body seemed to ache, even when she just fluttered her toes under the blanket. Oh, she was in bed then, she realized, tucked in, with her head on a rather comfortable pillow. Disoriented as her senses began to filter back in, Hermione thought it smelled rather like home.
Muffled sounds began to filter in and Hermione wondered what in the world had happened. One minute she'd been in her wedding robes and then the next minute Sirius —
It wasn't possible that Sirius had been successful, had it? Her head gave a painful throb when she realized she had two memories — one of her and Harry saving Sirius Black from the Dementor's Kiss on the back of Buckbeak and one where she did not, turning in her time turner at the end of the year to Professor McGonagall. In that new memory, Sirius Black had asked to speak with her in his capacity on the Board of Governors for the school, to make sure that she was adjusting well to life at the magical school. How in the world was that possible?
The sounds grew louder, clearer, and Hermione was certain that two people were having a very furious sort of argument, but she was still disoriented, wondering what the fuck was going on.
"— says she won't wake up for a while longer —"
" — don't care what he says, I am not leaving her until I know that she is okay."
"She would have been okay if you hadn't sent her back in the first place."
"I was trying to do the right thing, something you and Father know nothing about."
A beat of silence stretched on.
"I know that, but you aren't helping anyone by exhausting yourself here. You should get some rest. You can resume your vigil in the morning."
"No, Reg, I can't. I couldn't live with myself if she wasn't okay."
Hearing reference to Regulus was all that Hermione needed to hear to have her eyes flying open. She swallowed thickly, desperately wishing for a glass of water, while her eyes adjusted and took in the room. It was her room. At Grimmauld Place. Completely untouched, exactly as she had left it. Good, she had gotten home.
Sitting next to her bed, in one of the more comfortable chairs from the library, was Sirius. She made a choking sound as she looked him over. It was the Sirius that she remembered, from her time.
Well, not entirely. He was older than when she'd left him — leaving any lingering teenage softness in the past — but he was broader, more handsome than the Sirius she'd known from before. Even two years after his escape from Azkaban, he'd been too thin and too sharp. His grey eyes were not despondent, as they could often grow when he thought of his time in the prison, but they had a familiar haunted quality that had not been there before.
Standing behind him, with a large hand on Sirius's shoulder, was Regulus. There was no denying that it was Regulus, even though he was older too. His vestiges of youth had faded away and the man that stood before her seemed confident and hard, completely assured of himself. There was no denying the resemblance between the two brothers, but Regulus looked a bit too polished to be as good looking as his older brother.
So, he'd really done it then. Sirius had sent her back to her time.
A sob tore out of her throat when she was faced with all that she'd left behind.
It caught the attention of the bickering siblings and they both immediately turned their grey eyes on her. "Godric, Hermione?" Sirius asked, leaping forward to sit on the edge of her bed. He tucked her hand in his. "How are you feeling?"
"Sirius?" she said, her vision going blurry with unshed tears. Pushing herself up to sitting, she collapsed into his waiting arms and let out a bigger sob. Pulling back, she reached out for her other brother. "Regulus?"
Regulus practically shoved Sirius aside to get to her, wrapping her into a tight hug. "Yes, Hermione, it's me," he whispered, pressing his nose into her hair. "I thought that I would never see you again."
Hearing that made her cry even harder. She wondered how long it had been. She wondered what all she had missed. Suddenly, she was feeling completely overwhelmed and she didn't know what to do first. Digging her fingers into Regulus's shoulders, she tried to find anything to hold onto to stop the unknown.
"Go and get Father," Regulus ordered, his voice a gentle rumble in his chest against her ear. "It's the least that you can do, after what you did."
"No —" Hermione cried, not wanting to be parted from either of her brothers, not when she felt so completely out of sorts, but Sirius was already out of the room before she could say anything else.
Regulus took her by the shoulders and pushed her back so that he could look at her face. Gently, he cupped her cheeks, his thumbs brushing the tears away from her cheeks. "Let's get a good look at you now," he said, softly, a bittersweet smile on his face while he spent his time examining her. "You haven't aged a day. I was — I was beginning to forget how you looked, my memory has gone fuzzy after all this time, but there is no doubt in my mind that it's you."
Her mind was swimming with two sets of memories, but Hermione realized that Bellatrix had still sent her back in time, in a fight at the Department of Mysteries, meaning that even in this new reality, they were still fighting Death Eaters. Her stomach twisted with worry about what that all meant.
Was Regulus just naive? What if she wasn't actually the sister that he yearned for, but someone sent to trick them. "You shouldn't just trust that it's me," she whispered, wanting him to be a little more cautious. "You should ask me something that only I would know, to be sure."
He smiled at her, before he leaned closer so that he would whisper into her ear. "What was the name of the witch that I was seeing while at Hogwarts?" he asked, confident that no one would overhear them.
"Ivy," she said with a smirk, before reaching out for his hand, her fingers petting along the skin of each of his digits, only to be surprised to find that his ring finger remained vacant. "Oh," she added, a hint of disappointment in her voice.
"Come on, Hermione," he scoffed. "You know that it was not meant to be."
She wanted to argue with him about that, but she knew that it wasn't the time. A million new questions blossomed in her mind and she wanted to ask them all. What had Regulus done after school? Did he still live at home? Why hadn't he gotten married?
"Go on, then, what's your question for me?" he asked, with a teasing look. "Make sure that I really am your favorite brother after all."
Unable to help herself, she snorted at the assertion. "Why did you tell me and Rabastan to slow things down?" she asked, cocking her head to one side.
"Salazar, witch, I've only just got you back and you have to go reminding me of —" he cut himself off, running a hand down his face. "Ansel walked in on you in the boys dorms and he had your shirt half off!"
A voice clearing in the doorway got both of their attention and Hermione felt her cheeks go hot. "As fascinating a conversation as I am sure this is," her Father's imperious voice echoed in the room, "You should be letting Hermione rest, Regulus."
"Father!" Hermione said, brightly, her hands finding the edge of the covers to throw them back. She wanted to wrap him up in a hug, make sure that it was really him. Time had passed for Orion Black, too. He had twin points of grey at his temples and his face wore a few more wrinkles than it had before, but she still thought he looked regal and smart in his impeccable robes. He was still the Orion Black that she remembered.
Before she could get up, he was rushing over to her side, pushing her back against the pillows. "Don't get up, darling," he murmured softly, having missed having a daughter to dote on. "You need your rest. You've been through a lot and it will take time for things to settle."
"Yeah, Sirius," Regulus said with a hiss, having not forgiven or forgotten that his capricious brother was the source of her current suffering. "If only she hadn't been put through such an ordeal, being ripped away from the family who loved her."
"I've told you a million times — I thought that I was doing what was best for her," Sirius insisted hotly. Hermione could tell that this was a discussion that they'd had numerous times in the intervening years. "It was the right thing to do even if you can't—"
"Oh? So you are saying that you would do it again, given the chance?" Regulus accused. "Without a care for what she wanted? What was best for the rest of us?"
"You know that's not what I'm saying —" Sirius argued back, just as fiercely as his brother.
"Maybe you should just piss off, Sirius, like you did back when we were at Hogwarts. I assure you, we were better off —"
"Regulus," their father barked, getting the immediate attention of his son. "That's enough for today."
Orion returned his attention to Hermione. Reaching out for one of her errant curls, he gave it a tender little tug, before sighing deeply. "I won't even ask what you and Regulus were speaking about when I arrived here," he said, a knowing look in his eyes.
"We were just trying to ascertain that we really were who we said we were," Hermione explained, her cheeks still a bit hot at the thought of him hearing any intimate details between her and Rabastan. Oh, Salazar, what about Rabastan?
"Of course you are, you silly girl," he said, shaking his head, but wearing a smirk. "I thought that you'd learned enough about the blood wards on the place to know — you would not have gotten in here if you weren't Hermione Black."
"Oh," she said softly, realizing that it really did make sense. Grimmauld Place was one of the safest places on Earth and it wasn't likely that a random witch who looked exactly like the lost Hermione Black would just apparate into the back garden. "Yes, yes, obviously. I don't know what I was thinking."
"It's okay, you've had a lot to take in," Orion hushed her gently, encouraging her to lay down. "You really should rest. I am sure that this is a lot to take in. You will need time to catch your breath and sort everything out."
"What year is it, Father?" Hermione asked, needing to know more about not only where but when she'd unceremoniously landed.
"It's September, 1996," he said softly.
Hermione's eyes widened. It had hardly been three months since Bellatrix sent her back to the past. She wanted to cry again, thinking about how she was basically right back where she started. It was almost as if nothing had changed, despite two years in the past. "And Voldemort, does he... does he live?" she asked, her memories hazy at the edges. What was past and what was current?
"Hush, darling," Orion said softly. "We will talk more once you rest."
But, she realized that she had been at least successful at keeping Regulus, Orion and Sirius alive. All of them should have been dead, in her original timeline. "I'm glad you are still here," she said, feeling her eyelids grow heavy. Maybe she was more tired than she thought.
"And we will still be here when you wake up," he promised.
Hermione pulled the covers up to her chin, thinking that a little rest might be nice. Glinting on her ring finger, her attention was captured once again by the Lestrange ring on her finger. She toyed with it, even as dread filled her belly. "But, what about Rabastan, Father?" she asked. "We were due to be married and —"
Behind Orion, she could hear Sirius scoff, but she couldn't see his face. "Don't worry about betrothals or anything —"
"Boys!" Orion chided his sons, even if they were at least a decade out from being reliably called boys. "Please stop bothering your sister. Go now, before you disturb her any more."
"But, Father —" Hermione begged, needing to ease her mind.
Her father pressed a kiss to her forehead, before standing up herself. "You've been gone for over a decade, Hermione. You can wait another few hours to get your questions answered," he promised. "Now, sleep."
She was so tired, she was powerless to stop from following his command.