Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

It's About Time	By : Koukla22 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Sirius/Hermione Views: 16043 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 23
- 24
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor any of JK Rowling’s wonderful characters. I am merely borrowing them.

A/N: Thank you to every single person who has stopped by to read this story and those who’ve shared their reviews.

Chapter Twenty-Four.

How odd, Hermione thought, the clarity that comes with letting everything you’ve ever wanted slip right through your fingers.

But clarity it was. And as Hermione watched her friends and family celebrating all around her, her future with Sirius pulled away beyond her reach, and she knew with every cell of her being that she would never again feel about anyone the way she felt about him.

Over and over in her mind she replayed the moment, just a few short hours earlier, when she had left him on the Hogwarts grounds… walking away entirely of her own volition. She cursed herself repeatedly as the image continued on a reel through her mind.

“And so let us raise our glasses to the graduates! The future of the Wizarding world has never looked so bright as it does today.”

James’ toast concluded to cheers from the gathering of loved ones, congratulating Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

Hermione offered a smile and raised her glass mechanically for all of the beaming faces around her. Her eyes skipped from one face to the next, each magnifying the realization that this moment meant nothing without Sirius’ face among them.

Hermione nudged her way through the crowd, eager to escape… where, she was not certain, but the magnitude of what she was missing, of Sirius’ absence was threatening to overwhelm her entirely. She nodded politely at blurred faces enjoying the festivities, choking back a sob as she pushed past them even more quickly.

Someone shoved a butterbeer into her hand. She muttered a thank you without looking up. The kitchen door was a few feet away and she could escape into the relative privacy of the Burrow.

She was sure she would soon burst from the pressure building up inside her. Just as she reached the doorway, Molly Weasley stepped in front of her.

“Oh my dear,” Molly fretted, “you look rather peaky! Are you quite alright?”

Hermione swallowed thickly and nodded. She felt she couldn’t breathe. She needed to escape.

A voice behind her and hands upon her shoulders stopped her momentarily.

“She’s fine, Molly. Aren’t you, Hermione?” James’ voice soothed Molly as he ushered Hermione quickly away. Taking swift steps away from the crowd, James quickly whispered under his breath to her. “I will distract them. You’ll have less than ten seconds to apparate without being noticed.”

Everything was happening around her in a flurry of activity. “Pardon?”

James kept his eyes on the crowd. “I will distract them, so you can go.”

“Go... Where?”

James shot her an incredulous look. “To go tell that git best friend of mine that you're still in love with him.”

“James... I-“

“Hermione, I'm giving you ten seconds. You know you’ll never get out of here on your own. It’s up to you.”

Hermione took one last glance around at the gathering, each person dear to her, yet she knew that the only place she ever wanted to be was in Sirius arms again. None of it, none of it mattered without him.

She looked up at James as tears welled in her eyes and nodded.

Without a second's hesitation he pointed his wand at the corner of a tattered tablecloth across the party. Instantly, the fabric ignited in flames.

Molly shrieked and began yanking her wand out of her apron pocket. “Aguamenti!”

James looked over his shoulder at Hermione and mouthed, "Go!"

She sucked in a breath and, picturing the very place Sirius would be, turned on the spot. With adrenaline coursing through her veins, she whirled away.

With a loud "POP", Hermione appeared on the road in Hogsmeade. With a glance back at the dark village, she took off at a run up the path. Unbeknownst to her, she was echoing the very steps, following the same path that Sirius once tread when he was racing to find her before it was too late. Now, here she was - as she approached the gates of Hogwarts- and, it seemed, it was too late. The grounds were dark and with a raise of her wand, she uttered a brief spell, confirming that the wards had been placed around the school.

“Someone must be on duty…” she muttered to herself, standing on her toes to peer across the grounds.

“Who z’at,” a gruff voice slurred from the darkness within the gates.

Hermione gasped and jumped back. “Lumos!” Her wand, however, was useless beyond the protective wards.

A stocky figure stumbled up to the massive bars and gripped them, pulling his face toward her into the glare from her still lit wand.

“Mundungus!”

The drunken and unscrupulous Order member grinned sloppily. “’Evenin’, Granger. Forget yer not a student ‘ere anymore?” He chuckled to himself.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Mundungus, I thought Sirius was on duty tonight.”

“Nope, he ain’t.” He hiccupped loudly. “Just me an’ Moody ‘ere.”

“Where did Sirius go?” Hermione asked impatiently.

“Ehhhhh….” He furrowed his weathered brow, deep in drunken contemplation. “Don’t know,” he finally shrugged.

She let out an exasperated sigh. “Perfect.”

Thinking of the next most likely place she’d find him, Hermione turned away from the gate. “Goodnight,” she called over her shoulder to the snickering Mundungus.

Then, clearly envisioning her desired destination, Hermione spun on her heel and apparated away without another word.

The streetlights were flickering dully in the familiar courtyard when a loud pop echoed through the foggy London night. Hermione, not taking her usual precautions in her haste, had apparated directly in front of number 12 Grimmauld Place. She charged up the stairs and rapped impatiently upon the door.

Nothing.

Knocking again, she pressed her ear against the door to hear any movement from within.

Again, nothing.

Once more she knocked soundly. This time, a great disturbance arose from within.

"What sort of guests does my BLOOD-TRAITOR son have at all hours of the NIGHT?!?!" a shrill voice screamed.

The portrait of Sirius' mother, Hermione recalled.   Her shoulders sagged in defeat. Had Sirius been home, he would have awoken to silence his mother’s shrieking portrait, if nothing else. With one last fruitless glance upward to see if any lights had turned on in the house, she turned to leave.

But she had not considered any other locations to search for him. He could be anywhere.

Hermione was not ready to give up, however, and as soon as the next possible place he would go popped into her head, she turned quickly and disappeared on the spot.

She landed hard on her feet in an alley, near a recognizable dumpster and an even more familiar phone booth. Hastily forcing open the sliding door, Hermione picked up the phone and dialed 62442,tapping her foot while she waited for a response.

“Hello and welcome to the Ministry of Magic. I’m sorry but the Ministry has closed for the evening. Please return dur-”

Hermione didn’t wait to listen to the rest of the greeting. If the Ministry was closed, she wouldn’t be able to get in even if Sirius was inside. They had greatly increased security upon realizing that Hogwarts students were able to easily gain access to the Ministry after hours.

Remus, James, and their families were all at the party so it was doubtful that Sirius would be at either of their homes. She had to be certain though.

Apparating first to the Potter’s home then the Lupin’s, Hermione found them as she had suspected, empty.

She paced in front of the Lupin’s house, chewing on her lower lip. One last place crossed her mind. That she would even consider it as a possibility proved all the more to Hermione that she was clinging to her last tiny splinter of hope… but it was worth a look.

Another “Pop”, and Hermione found herself standing in front of the very place she’d imagined… her parents’ home.

The house was dark; its stillness disturbed only by the faint breeze that ruffled the trees looming over head.

The darkness of the house seemed to wrap itself around her, tightly smothering the hope within that had urged her on from place to place all night.

Hermione let out a shallow breath.

Of course, she thought, it was silly to believe he would be here, of all the places he could go. Something inside her had wanted so badly to believe that he would have come here, to find her, just as she had for him.

She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and perched on a garden bench across the street from her childhood home.

This wouldn't be the end, she told herself. No, she was certain she would always love him.

It was, however, the end of any chance of her and Sirius being together. She somehow knew that if she didn't find him, if she couldn’t explain to him everything she had realized, then the walls they were both slowly building around their hearts would grow just strong enough to keep the other out.

It would be too late. She gazed up at the unlit windows of her parent’s home and shook her head.

No, it was too late.

Maybe too much had happened. She had missed too much of his life and she would never be able to know all that he had been through during those years. Because of that, until he shared all that had happened between their past and his present, she would never be able to move forward with him.

Bowing her head in a thoroughly defeated nod, Hermione stood to apparate back to her new flat. With a sigh, she spun a final turn and disappeared into the night.

She reappeared miles away, back in London at the ground level of her walk-up flat. Far down the road she could hear the sounds of revelry from the pubs near the heart of the city. The light-hearted voices made Hermione’s heart feel all the heavier.

She craned her neck up at the dark façade of her new building, the flat which she had only rented the previous day. She hadn’t anticipated returning there tonight seeing as it was empty with the exception of her bed and a few boxes that had been sent from the school. Her plan had been to stay at the Burrow after the party but… she knew she couldn’t go back there tonight after having left so abruptly.

The thought of walking into her bare and lifeless flat was incomprehensible to Hermione but she couldn’t very well apparate from place to place all night hoping for an perfect ending to this tragic story. That, she knew, simply wasn’t going to happen.

She began trudging up the dark stairwell to her door, not comfortable lighting her wand in full view of people out on the street. At the top of the first flight of stairs, she lit her wand, guiding her steps up the rest of the way to her door. The realization that she had failed overwhelmed her and she was suddenly overcome.

She resignedly raised her wand to lower the wards she’d set in place but stopped instantly at a muffled sound behind her. She whirled around, her wand still held aloft, and was met, face-to-face, with the very man she’d been searching for.

He had a vaguely amused look on his tired face. “You ought to have applied to be an Auror with reflexes like those.”

“Sirius,” she panted, her heart thundering away in her chest so loudly it echoed in her ears. She must have been imagining him, a perfect mirage in the midst of her angst.

“What are you doing here?”

“I went to the Burrow and they said you’d gone. They said I might find you here.”

The tiny glow of hope, the hissing embers of the nearly extinguished flame inside of her, began to grow.

“You went to the Burrow?”

He nodded.

“I… I wasn’t at the Burrow…” was all she could think to reply.

He offered a small smile and took a step toward her.

The realization came in an instant. She realized that she’d been wrong. It wasn't too late. She still had an opportunity. She had right now.

“I mean to say,” she shook her head to try and clear her thoughts, “I was looking for you.”

The playful glint returned to his eyes. “I know.”

She took a deep breath and summoned her courage. “I need to tell you something.”

Sirius nodded calmly, his eyes never leaving hers.

Hermione realized she hadn’t a clue how to explain herself to him. His eyes bore down into hers and she averted her gaze.

She started off slowly but went on, attempting to rationalize her feelings to him. “I know- It seems you and I have gone back and forth over this but, as I see it, there does not seem to be any other solution to this predicament other than coming to a mutual agreement as to which direction we intend to go with the matter at hand. Either we, after discussing the shared benefits of….”

She became aware that she was rambling. Dropping her shoulders in surrender, she sighed, “Oh hell.”

Sirius’ searing gaze faltered as his eyebrows rose in silent laughter. “Pardon?”

Hermione lifted her eyes to meet his. "I am so in love with you, Sirius," Hermione confessed in a single breath.

She took one step forward then half-ran, half-fell the remaining distance between them. Within seconds her arms were going round his neck and their lips met at long last.

A heat from within her began to burn with more ferocity than she had ever experienced; first, within her chest, then spreading throughout her body out to the very tips of her fingers.

Her mouth opened to gasp for air and he seized the opportunity to deepen the kiss, not allowing her a chance to escape this sacred moment. He ran his fingertips down her cheek, tilting her head, guiding her closer.

Hermione was dizzy with the scent of him, the coarse hair on his chin tickled her neck, he overwhelmed her every sense.

She was aware of every cell of her being, tingling as Sirius’ heat coursed over her.

Sirius crushed her body against his, her sweater gathered tightly in his clenched fists.

She felt her legs go weak.

She felt her eyes spill over with tears.

She felt alive.

Her hands dug into his hair. She shuddered at the unmistakable growl he emitted.

Again and again, their connection deepened, Sirius lifted Hermione, bringing her closer, her feet hovering above the ground.

The joyous tears which glided down Hermione’s face, fell upon Sirius’. His hand moved of its own accord to wipe the stray tear from Hermione's cheek.

Their lips parted, though not so far as they couldn't still feel the warmth of the other's breath, neither wanting to end the incandescent moment in which they'd been held captive.

"Sirius...."

His eyes burned down upon her, the glint of excitement and passion within them belied his stern expression.

"I still want this," Hermione whispered. "I'd be crazy to deny it any longer."

His mouth was set in a firm line.

"Say something?" She asked, searching his face for any sort of reaction.

He shook his head. "Is there really reason to do any more talking?"

He reached for her and, cupping her face in his rough hands, he brought his mouth to hers.

"Wait," she rushed breathlessly.

He pulled back faintly. "You want me to... wait?" his voice was hoarse with anticipation, a pained grimace upon his face.

Hermione knew that this reunion would be short-lived if they didn’t overcome the obstacles that had kept them apart. They had to face reality.

“Sorry… yes,” She apologized. “There’s just something I think we ought to - ”

Instantly, something dawned on her. She knew exactly what needed to be done.

“Would you come inside with me, Sirius?”

He eyed her curiously. “Yes, of course.”

She quickly lowered the wards and pushed open the door of her flat. Sirius followed her into the dark room, empty but for a few boxes stacked neatly against the wall. As Hermione set the fireplace to life, the flames cast an amber glow across the room, illuminating the large stone basin in a far corner.

Hermione turned from the hearth and followed Sirius’ eyes to the intricate marble basin. She crossed the room and ran her fingers along its edge.

“A pensieve?” Sirius asked, his brow creased in confusion.

“I want to see, Sirius,” Hermione said softly, looking into the empty bowl. “Show me what I missed. Show me who you were after I left.”

“No, Hermione,” Sirius said, approaching her slowly. “I don’t want to think about the past anymore. My dwelling on the past has caused too many problems already.”

“You can’t ignore the past,” She said quietly. “It is part of who you are.”

“But I don’t want to be that person anymore. If I have you now, Hermione, we can forget – ”

“No. No more trying to forget. I think we both know that is futile.” Hermione turned around to find Sirius standing so close to her that their bodies brushed against one another with every breath. “Please, Sirius. I want to see.”

“Hermione…”

“Please.”

For a long moment the two stood watching the other, both wanting to touch, to kiss… to alleviate themselves of so much yearning and desire but neither moving. Both finally wanted a future together but neither was ready. There could be no future for them as one unless they defeated the past that would haunt them forever.

The silence lasted so long Hermione was certain he would deny her this request.

Sirius was the first to break the silence.

“Alright,” He nodded.

“Thank you,” Hermione whispered.

Sirius drew his wand from within his coat. He held Hermione’s gaze as he raised his wand to his temple, then closing his eyes he began to withdraw a long, silvery strand that he waved into the pensieve. Memory after memory he added to the basin until the final recollection was united with the others.

They both stood over the pensieve, watching the silver vapor swirl about, merging and mixing, a shimmering light cast upon their faces.

Hermione looked up at Sirius.

“Thank you for this.”

He gazed down at her, mesmerized by the reflection of the basin’s glittery contents in her chocolate brown eyes.

She took his hand and began to lean forward into the pensieve but was held back by his strong grip. Turning, she saw creased lines of worry upon his brow and uncertainty in his eyes.

She took a slow yet purposeful step toward him. Rising up on her toes, she kissed him softly on the lips. The kiss was brief and chaste but conveyed every bit of encouragement and strength that Sirius needed at that moment.

He offered a brief smile and, leaning into the pensieve together, they began to fall. They tumbled down farther and farther until they landed roughly on a cold stone floor, at Hogwarts.

Hermione didn’t have to ask Sirius when this memory had occurred, she knew at once. They were standing in the middle of the Great Hall as a battle waged on against the Slytherins. Hermione knew instantly because she was watching a familiar scene, Sirius’ lifeless body plummeting to the earth.

Hermione clutched her chest as she watched the scene unfold around her. She saw the crowd of students surge forward as Sirius’ body collided with the ground.

She turned her face away from the impact… and saw herself. She was being pushed back by the influx of students, horror-stricken, desperately trying to force her way through the crowd.

Turning back to where Sirius’ body had fallen, Hermione slowly approached the younger version of the man beside her and gazed down at him.

“You remember this,” Hermione said pointedly, realizing he must have been conscious for this memory to exist.

“Yes,” He answered distantly. “Not clearly but I was conscious.”

Hermione watched as James and Remus crouched over the younger Sirius’ body, calling out for help.

The rubble that had barricaded the entrance to the Hall was blasted overhead where it suspended in mid-air. The Slytherins involved in the fight took their chance to hastily slip away as the Professors rushed in.

Dumbledore suddenly appeared at Sirius’ side. He knelt beside the young man and spoke softly under his breath as he waved his wand over Sirius’ chest.

A tear rolled down Hermione’s cheek. She shook her head slowly.

“I thought you were dead,” she whispered. “I was sure of it. I fought so hard to reach you but I-” She turned her head to the place where she’d been standing.   She was gone. “- disappeared.”

Hermione watched as Professor McGonagall hastened past her, making a beeline toward the fallen Sirius.

“Oh Albus,” She said, horrified. “What have they done?”

Dumbledore’s response was muffled in Hermione’s ears as she could focus only on Sirius’ limp body rising slowly, levitated by Madam Pomfrey. His hovering form floated ahead of her as she, followed by Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall, retreated from the room solemnly.

Hermione stood beside the youthful figures of James and Remus watching their best friend, lifelessly being carried away. James let his head fall into his hands and, as Hermione’s heart broke for him, the room fell away around her.

The tears flowed freely down her face and she turned in the darkness to find Sirius. She wanted to tell him that she’d seen enough, that she couldn’t bear to see any more pain.

Before she could stop it from happening, a flame burst to life before them instantly, bringing the next memory into focus.

Dancing flames cast shadows across the otherwise pitch darkness of the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione knew it must have been very late; the room which was usually buzzing with activity was silent and abandoned.

A brief movement though pulled her attention to a corner of the room near the hearth.

And there sat Sirius, turning a piece of parchment over and over in his hands. He stared into the fire, an intensity in his eyes that Hermione could not decipher.

She crossed the room to stand before him. His youthful face appeared to have already aged. Dark shadows beneath his eyes gave away the many nights he’d spent in fitful, turbulent sleep.

His eyes scanned the few words on the paper though it appeared he already knew each word from memory. His brow furrowed, a low growl emitted from his throat. His fist crushed around the crisp parchment until his knuckles turned white and Hermione feared he may actually draw blood. Stepping forward quickly, Sirius hurled the crumpled paper into the flames.

Hermione lunged toward the fire, determined to learn what had made Sirius react this way.   On her knees, Hermione leaned into the hearth before the paper was destroyed. The parchment slowly unfurled as the flames nipped away at the edges. She could make out only a few words of the letter before it was consumed by the flames but it was all she needed to recognize what it was.

                When we meet again, please forgive me. I wanted to tell you-

Her letter to Sirius. The letter she’d been writing before Sirius came to her that day. The day they had shared both the most intoxicatingly blissful moment and the terrifying tragedy of the fight.

Hermione sat back on her heels, her breath caught in her throat. She had completely forgotten about the letter… never considered that someone would find it or that it would make its way to Sirius’ hands. She turned her face toward the young Sirius in the memory.

He stood glowering at the fire, his eyes fixated on the blue heat of the flames until the parchment was reduced to ash. He breathed deeply and his furious mask began to break, revealing the distraught young man beneath.

"You were angry with me," Hermione said to the man who had witnessed this scene from the far side of the room.

"Only for giving me cause to hope,” He answered. “Lily found that letter under your bed months later, while packing to leave at the end of the year. We had all been made to accept that you were... gone."

The memory began fading out.

He continued, "That letter, what you only alluded to in that letter made it impossible for me to forget you, to move on."

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling.

"No, Hermione," Sirius spoke as the next memory unfolded around them. "You did nothing wrong. This is why I didn't want you to see this..."

She opened her mouth to reply but was silenced when she heard a woman's voice speaking in Sirius' memory.

She turned to see a still young Sirius, probably in his mid-twenties, walking along a snow-covered sidewalk with a woman.

She was stunning, Hermione couldn’t help but observe. She also could not ignore the pang of jealousy that stung in her chest as the woman reached out and clasped Sirius' hand.

Hermione fell into step behind them.

"What do you think?" the woman asked him, her emerald green eyes inquisitive.

"About what?" replied Sirius distractedly. He stared distantly, as though deep in thought.

She smiled, revealing her perfect white teeth. "Weren't you listening? My parents have invited you for Christmas. You will come, won't you?"

Sirius slowed his pace to a stop but neither spoke nor looked at the young woman.

"Sirius?" She looked at him expectantly.

He glanced up at her. Hermione didn't know how he would deny this girl anything. She was so lovely, looking up at him with snow falling upon her shiny black hair.

"Where are you, Sirius?" She asked softly.

His brow creased in question. "What do you mean?"

"I'm in London... but you, you're somewhere else. It's as though you're here but completely absent all at once."

"Sorry," he said, looking up at the clear night sky.

The woman smiled sadly at him. "I wouldn't be so bothered by it if... if I wasn't in love with you."

Hermione watched in complete captivation, afraid to breathe that she might miss his response.

She didn't know if she could bear to hear him confess his love for this woman, though she wouldn't be able to blame him if he had.

Instead he just stared at her. He stared at her as though her words were spoken in a language completely foreign to him. "I..."

Hermione sucked in a sharp breath.

"I know," said the woman. "I didn’t expect that you’d say it back. I just wanted you to know how I felt, just once."

Sirius began to apologize but was silenced when her arms wrapped around him tightly.

A tear traced down her cheek and she embraced him. "I can't live with the ghost of someone you are still in love with, hovering over us both at every turn. I had hoped it would have faded by now but you seem to be pulling further and further away."

"I'm sorry."

She shook her head sadly. “Don’t be.” She turned to slowly walk away, leaving Sirius standing on the snow covered road, looking on.

Hermione clutched her heart, how much had Sirius not experienced?   How much he missed out on, all because of her?

"Did you love her?" She asked him hesitantly.

"I wanted to."

She silently urged him to go on.

"I wanted to be in love with her. I thought, if I could convince myself I loved her, I would be able to forget you. Turns out, it made it worse. She only reminded me of what I'd lost."

"Did you ever see her again?"

He shook his head. "No."

The high pitched whistle of the Hogwarts Express blaring somewhere overhead interrupted them.

The setting was unmistakable. Hermione knew from the sound, the smells, that they were now standing on Platform 9 ¾. An eleven- year old Harry stood before her surrounded by his parents and Sirius. James and Lily fawned over their son, dreading saying goodbye.

A smile played at the corners of Hermione’s mouth as she watched her best friend, loved by a family he may have lost.

The young Sirius stood back from the Potters, staring across the sea of people directly at a first-year Hermione. She stood with her parents, looking both eager and apprehensive. The young girl turned slightly as though she had sensed someone watching her. Her large brown eyes met Sirius’ gaze.

Their matched stare held for only a few seconds. The young Hermione’s face relaxed into a near smile, a spark of recognition.

Sirius' expression spoke of such complexity it was impossible to tell how he might be feeling. Hermione moved toward the young Sirius but just as she approached, he turned and left the Platform briskly, muttering a hasty goodbye to his godson.

Hermione took one last glance back at the younger version of herself to see that the girl was watching Sirius curiously as he departed.

Darkness fell upon them again but this time Hermione did not push him to speak. He had hovered behind her silently as the scene played out.

She had only ever imagined what it must have been like for him; to be forced to watch her grow up, all the while knowing that one day he would have to face their past again.

Even more haunting was the knowing gleam in the eyes of her young self, as though she already knew.

Hermione turned to Sirius, broken. “I don’t know how you managed it… I can hardly stand it and I’ve only just witnessed seconds of your life.”

Sirius’ hollow expression moved past her to focus on something in the background. She turned to see an office coming into shape.

Stacks of files and documents fell into piles around her, lining the walls that were forming around an imposing oak desk.

A familiar figure slumped back in the well-worn leather chair behind the desk, rubbing at his eyes. Sirius sighed heavily, releasing a great yawn. He flipped through a thick stack of parchment documents before settling on one, his brow creased in concentration.

A clock mounted on the wall behind Sirius ticked loudly, verging on midnight.

Hermione crept toward the seated wizard, taking in his weary features. His hair had been cropped, gone was the tousled mane she’d grown so fond of at Hogwarts. He appeared very much a man who had thrown himself wholly into his work.

An abrupt crash startled her, though Sirius remained seated, glancing up only with his eyes as the door flew open.

“James,” Sirius greeted his friend with a tired nod.

Stone-faced, James responded only, “She’s back.”

Sirius froze. “Is she… How is she?”

“Unconscious still; the healers were with her when I left”.

Sirius nodded solemnly. “Does Harry know?”

“I’ve sent an owl to him at school.” James sank into an armchair in front of the desk. “What are you going to do, Padfoot?”

“I am going to continue researching this file,” he answered with stoic indifference. “My report is due next week.” Sirius shuffled the documents on his desk busily.

“What are you going to do, Sirius?” James repeated.

Falling back in his chair, Sirius shrugged. “I haven’t a clue.” He dropped his head in his hands. “I haven’t a clue, James”.

Hermione observed Sirius, lost as he seemed, noticing how he suddenly looked so small behind that great oak desk. She stepped back as once more the memory around them dissipated in long wisps of grey smoke.

Hermione stepped back as the next memory began taking shape. Ceiling high windows lined the walls of a stark white hospital room; Hermione recognized it as her room at St. Mungo’s.

Shadowy figures slowly came into focus. Hermione heard Sirius suck in a sharp breath beside her.

“This will be the last,’ He said.

Hermione couldn’t speak to respond for directly before her was herself, laying unconscious beneath crisp white sheets, pale as the sheets themselves. Beside her bed was Sirius, clasping her frail hand.

He gazed so intensely at her face, searching her features as though each second he was seeing them for the first time. He spoke to her so softly, barely a word fell upon her ears. She drifted silently nearer.

“Hermione,” he whispered. “Please open your eyes.”

Her sleeping self moved only in the slow rise and fall of her chest with each breath.

“Wake up, Hermione,” he pleaded, his voice rough with exhaustion.

He moved to sit beside her.

“Hermione, please come back.”

Sirius cupped her face in his hands.

“Hermione, wake up. You must look at me.”

Leaning down, he touched his forehead to hers, breathing her in deeply.

“I am nothing, Hermione,” he swallowed thickly. “I am nothing more, or less, than what I see in your eyes when you look at me.”

He kissed her forehead.

“Please come back to me, Hermione.”

Silent tears streamed down the observing Hermione’s face all the while. She turned to Sirius without a word and wrapped her arms around him tightly.

“Please, no more,” she said softly.

Instantly, they drew back from the pensieve.

Hermione stood in a momentary daze, adjusting to the feel of returning to reality. She tilted her head back to look directly at Sirius.

“Did you mean what you said?” Hermione asked through her tears.

Sirius nodded with certainty.

“And what do you see now in my eyes?” She asked.

He touched his fingertips to her cheek and looked deeply into her eyes for what felt like both the first time and the thousandth time.

“Everything, Hermione,” Sirius touched his forehead to hers. “Everything that was, everything that is, and everything that we will ever be.”

Finally, caught somewhere in between time, Sirius wrapped Hermione in his arms and took her breath away.

The End.
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It's About Time