Never All Together

Chapter 7: Right Kind of Wrong

Down an unknown road to embrace my fate
Though the road may wander
It will lead me to you.
And a thousand years would be worth the wait
It might take a lifetime
But somehow I'll see it through.
And I won't look back
I can go the distance.
And I'll stay on track
No, I won't accept defeat.
It's an uphill slope but I won't lose hope
Till I go the distance and my journey is complete.

--- David Zippel (Go the Distance) ---

No!

Hermione tackled James to the floor just as the deadly jet of green light streaked past where he had been standing and shattered the far wall of the pub. She pressed her face to his chest in fright and felt his large hands cover her head from the chunks of concrete that whizzed everywhere.

Sirius, along with the other Aurors, already had their wands raised. "Stupefy!" they cried in unison, pointing towards where the Killing Curse came from, but the two hooded figures had already slipped out the door.

"After them!" Sirius thundered. Two of the Aurors nearest the door sprinted out in pursuit of the assassins. "Damn! They've had a head start and probably already Apparated out of Hogsmeade." Sirius let out a string of expletives and looked around to see people straightening up from under the tables they had used for protection. They were glaring at them with mingled wonder, suspicion, and fear. He gestured to his cousin Nymphadora Tonks, who was also an Auror. "Go check if everybody is safe." Tonks nodded and dragged another Auror with her to the other side of the room.

With the upheaval somewhat over, Hermione lifted her head and locked gazes with James, whose eyes widened in recognition as though he had not realised who she was before now. He gently but hurriedly pushed her off him and sat up.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked before James could say anything, her eyes filled with concern.

James opened his mouth and closed it again, then looked at her as though he could hardly believe what he was hearing. "You just saved me. Of course, I'm alright. It's you I'm worried about. Are you hurt?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. But you could have been killed, Jam--Minister," she corrected hastily. She shuddered as she thought of what could have happened had she reacted just one second too late.

Sirius knelt down beside James and inspected him, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You okay, James?" he asked, turning to the woman sitting with them without waiting for an answer. "Hermione? What are you doing here?" Sirius questioned incredulously. Before Hermione could reply, however, he gave a booming laugh. "Never mind that now. Thank you for saving this idiot of a Minister that we have."

James cast a nasty glance at Sirius. "Sure, like you weren't an idiot for not noticing those two Death Eaters."

"I wasn't talking about that, or we would all be at fault," Sirius replied, laughing again. "I was talking about what an idiot you were for not even thanking her." He wagged his index finger warningly. "Pretty bad showing for a future father-in-law."

"I was about to thank her before you interrupted," James answered, getting to his feet and helping Hermione up as well. The softness of her hand in his brought back memories better uncalled for, so he let go as soon as he could. "You should be on your way back to school, Hermione."

"Not so fast, not so fast," Sirius interjected jovially. "How's my godson?"

James and Hermione instinctively turned to look at each other at the mention of Harry, but both looked away quickly. "Oh, he's fine. Still the same old Harry, you know," Hermione answered vaguely. "I'm sorry, Mr. Black, but the Minister is right. I really have to go back to school or I'm going to be late for my next class." She smiled at him.

Sirius wrinkled his nose. "Oh, okay. I keep forgetting you're less of a rule-breaker than most people."

"Than you, you mean," Hermione snorted. His comment about her being a stickler for rules annoyed her. "So this doesn't count then? Sneaking out of school just to visit the village?"

Sirius waved an elegant hand as he dismissed her answer. "Maybe a little. But if you had been really adventurous, you would have skipped the rest of your afternoon classes." Hermione's eyes widened and her jaw dropped in horror. Sirius laughed. "Like I said."

"I've broken a lot more school rules than just skipping class," Hermione answered loftily. "And I'm sure I've taken on far more exciting adventures in my seven years at Hogwarts than you ever did on all those occasions."

"What, the troll and the basilisk?" Sirius asked, humouring her. "How very noble. Certainly a far cry from the times I used to sneak out of the castle to snog any pretty girl of my choice."

A small smile appeared on Hermione's face as she remembered when she herself had snuck out of the castle to be with James. If Sirius only knew.

"Don't listen to him," James said, frowning slightly. "It's not wise to miss class without a valid reason."

Sirius shrugged. "Well, if your Minister-of-Magic of a father-in-law says so, then I guess you should comply." He winked at her, and she smiled despite his words. "Stay safe, Hermione. Say hello to Harry for me." He looked at James. "I guess I should fix things up around here."

James nodded. "Thanks. One more thing, Sirius -- I'd appreciate it if this doesn't hit the news." For more reasons than one. He then turned to Hermione. "I'm going with you to Honeydukes. It's not safe to wander around alone."

"I actually think she will be in more danger if you're with her, Prongs," Sirius wisecracked.

"At least I'm safer with her than with you," James joked back. "So much for supposedly being the best Auror there is." He glanced at Hermione. "Where are your things?"

Hermione gestured in the direction of the table she had occupied earlier and started making her way to it. James trailed after her just as Sirius said, "If you're not back in fifteen minutes, I'm going to send out a search party!"

James gave a small laugh that was deep and throaty, a sound that made Hermione shiver. When they reached her table, he wordlessly reached for her large shopping bag and motioned towards the door, allowing her to exit first. They walked in silence for a few moments, Hermione several steps ahead of him and still increasing her pace.

"Where's the fire?" James asked with a grin as he lengthened his strides to catch up with her.

Hermione looked at him, seemingly unsure of what to do, and then looked away again.

It was then that James remembered that he had not properly thanked her. "Hermione, don't think I'd forgotten." She arched one eyebrow in question. "I just wanted to make sure you were safe before anything else. Thank you for saving my life."

There was a pause, and then Hermione smiled, her features softening. "You're welcome." She took a deep breath. "You should be more careful, you know."

"Oh, I've been on Voldemort's death list for years now. It's one of the occupational hazards of being the Minister," James answered light-heartedly, replacing the smile on Hermione's face with a frown. Actually, I've been on the list far longer than I've been Minister, he corrected himself.

"If I had known you were so flippant about it, I would have let the curse hit you."

"Would you have, indeed?" James asked with a teasing smile.

Hermione's frown did not let up, and James put on a more serious expression as well. "Agonizing over every attempt on my life will get me nowhere, so I've learned to deal with it by being nonchalant."

Hermione thought about that for a moment. That was so just like him, always keeping himself in check. She swallowed hard. "I understand. But I'm still scared." Scared something bad will happen to you.

"I am too. Most of the time," James said, smiling kindly at her. "I just don't want to give my enemies the satisfaction of seeing me cower in fright, or dampen my comrades' morale. It is my role to stay tough all the time."

"It must be difficult," Hermione mused.

James shrugged. "It's my responsibility to protect other people. I enjoy it, actually, to some extent." He smiled ruefully. "By the way, Hermione, never do that again."

"Do what?"

"Save my life."

Sparks flew from her eyes. "So what I did is wrong now?"

"No, but it was foolish of you to risk your life for me." James's mouth thinned into a grim line. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

I don't want anything to happen to you either. You said it's your duty to protect others, but who will protect you? "Anybody would have done it. You would have, for anybody else," Hermione answered with utmost certainty.

"Except for Death Eaters, of course." James smiled that small smile of his. "I rest my case. I'll try to stay out of trouble then, or at least get into trouble when you're not around to meddle with it." Hermione blushed but refused to reply.

They continued to walk in silence as Hermione waged an internal battle inside her mind. Honeydukes was just around the corner. Was she really going to let him go without saying what she truly wanted to tell him? She sneaked a glance up at him, his face calm and handsome. Hermione lowered her eyes to her shoes.

"I've missed you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

James looked at her. "What was that?"

She forced herself to meet his eyes. "I've missed you," she repeated, louder this time, her heart pounding in her ears. Is he going to reject me again?

His lips curved in that tiniest of smiles she always thought was devastatingly sexy on him. "You should not be saying that."

Hermione glanced away. That was all? His lack of response hurt her more than she would admit. Well, she admonished herself, what did you expect?

"Is that why you're in Hogsmeade, because you've missed me?" James asked, his question causing Hermione to look sharply at him.

Hermione, however, knew him well enough by now to detect the playful twinkle in his eyes. Her features relaxed into a smile. "I bought some ingredients to replenish my potions kit. I didn't even know you were here." Her smile grew wider, and James's face brightened as he noticed that charming dimple on her left cheek. "I thought you appreciated my timely presence?"

"Certainly, except for a few sore muscles from having landed hard on my back. You certainly have some strength in you, young lady." He smiled rakishly at her and then glanced up at the wooden sign over Honeydukes. "You go in first. I'll distract the cashier so you can sneak back into the cellar." He handed her bag back and a knowing look flickered in his eyes. "I'll see you soon."

Hermione smiled shyly at him and entered the sweetshop. James entered a couple of minutes later and saw her casually looking over the chocolate bars. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments. James nodded and engaged the cashier in conversation about security measures while watching Hermione descend the stairs into the cellar out of the corner of his eyes.

When he had given Hermione enough time to climb back through the trapdoor, James fished some coins from the pockets of his robes and plunked them on the counter. "Do you sell chocolates shaped like roses?"

* * * * * * *

Hermione was surprised to see a handsome owl drop a package on her lap during dinner that night. Harry and Ron had received some mail too, and both were too busy unwrapping their posts to notice Hermione opening hers.

Her brown eyes widened when she saw three of Honeydukes best chocolates that had been fashioned into rosebuds inside the paper bag, all of which blossomed as she lightly touched their petals. Hoping against hope, she rummaged inside the bag and felt a small piece of parchment inside. She pulled it out and unfurled it.

I do not have enough words to describe how thankful I am, so I guess I'll just say it again and again. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you for saving my life. And yes, I've missed you too.

Her heart sang.

* * * * * * *

Hermione rubbed the yellow sand particles between her fingers before sprinkling some on the lit cauldron. The molten solution inside hissed and bubbled as small lumps formed. Hermione mixed the cauldron with her ladle seven times clockwise and another seven times counter-clockwise, making the concoction homogeneous in texture.

It was Sunday, a day after she revisited Hogsmeade with Ron and Harry. While the two boys were busy trying on Zonko's joke products, she had muttered something about needing a journal and had slipped away quietly. In a matter of minutes, she had retrieved the hourglass she had purchased only days before and was back at Zonko's, absentmindedly keeping the boys company. She couldn't wait to return to the castle so she could start on the potion.

She was up at dawn that Sunday morning. Without breakfast, and without wasting any more time, she rushed to the girls' bathroom on the second floor. Dilapidated and constantly flooded, nobody ever used this bathroom except her, Harry, and Ron -- especially when they were planning things the school handbook did not technically permit.

"What are you brewing?" a nasal voice asked over her shoulder, peering interestedly through her thick spectacles.

Hermione shuddered from the contact with cold ghost flesh. "It's none of your business, Myrtle," she replied, shrugging the ghost off.

Moaning Myrtle floated toward the cauldron and sniffed at the fumes. "I don't recognize this potion."

Hermione snorted. "I doubt you would."

Hermione did not miss the look of indignation Myrtle threw at her. "You use my bathroom to plot your schemes, and yet you behave so arrogantly. Perhaps you wouldn't be so mean if I popped into another bathroom and told somebody everything that you and your friends have been doing in secret, would you? Or maybe throw this potion away when you leave later?"

Hermione's head snapped up. "You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, yes, I would," Myrtle cackled, sounding like Peeves now. "But not if you tell me what it is," she amended in a sickeningly sweet voice.

The brunette sighed in exasperation. "It's an...aphrodisiac," she lied, exhaling noisily to feign resignation.

Myrtle's eyes widened and she clamped one hand to her mouth in shock. "Ooohhh," she cooed several moments later. "Wish I didn't ask. For Mr. Potter, I assume?"

The older one, actually. "Yes."

Myrtle giggled as though Hermione had just divulged her dirtiest secret. "Okay, okay. I promise I won't tell anybody. May I watch you while you do it? I wish I knew how to make those when I was in school." She sat on the tiled floor, her expression dreamy.

Hermione shrugged, knowing very well that saying no would spell even more tantrums. "Suit yourself." She continued adding the ingredients of the potion, checking the parchment once in a while to review the directions. Myrtle, meanwhile, had tired of watching her after only a few minutes and had returned to sulk in her cubicle.

Hermione was left to her own thoughts, which wandered aimlessly as she mechanically stirred the potion. Up until that moment, she couldn't believe she had ventured into such a daring task. She had used a Time-Turner in her third year for purely academic purposes, but that had been licensed by the Ministry. She smiled wryly at the thought of having one approved now by the Minister. Hermione shook her head in disbelief at the number of not just school rules, but magical laws, that she was going to break. All for one man.

Who isn't just any man, Hermione reminded herself. A man who's also the Minister of Magic, who's married, the father of your devoted boyfriend... She sighed. Don't go there again, she told herself. It is pointless to go over your previous missteps one more time. Besides, it's not as though you have already succeeded.

After one final stir, Hermione had nothing else to do but let the mixture stew for a month. She reached into her bag and took out the hourglass, pleased with its flawless shape and the quality suggested by its lustre of reflected light. She attached it to the gold chain and hung it around her neck. It felt weightless -- for the moment.

After a month, the important particles of the sandy mixture would be ready for precipitation. Once she had isolated the solids, all she needed to add were the fine ferromagnetic particles and ensure that they had been evenly dispersed throughout the powdery mixture so she could charm a small volume from it into the hourglass. Hermione had not yet thought about how she was going to deal with the limited range of time the device could turn back, but was confident that the answers lay in her full understanding on the principles involved behind brewing the potion.

Hermione waved her wand around her, and the previous spills and empty plastic packages instantly vanished. She had one month to come up with the correct answer.

* * * * * * *

"You look troubled, James," Sirius remarked as he stretched out languidly on a chair in the Minister of Magic's office.

The frown James wore emphasized the lines in his face. "Who wouldn't be? The Dementors have deserted Azkaban and have attacked three villages in one week, and we weren't even able to put up a challenge. I can feel it, Sirius. His supporters feel it too. He is getting stronger."

Sirius truly did not know how his best friend could say such things about Voldemort as though they were of one mind, but he knew better than to ask. He just assumed that James was simply relying on his base instincts. "Not if we can stop it," Sirius said firmly. "This isn't like last time, James. The Order is stronger this time around -- in both number and skill. And we finally have a concrete plan to defeat Voldemort once and for all." Dumbledore had recently confided in Sirius the existence of the Horcruxes.

At what cost? James wanted to ask. Instead, he rubbed his eyes tiredly. "We should start looking for it, Padfoot," he said, referring to the necklace.

Sirius visibly stiffened at the implication of going back to Grimmauld Place. When his parents and younger brother died, he inherited the house as the eldest among the Black descendants. He had never considered it a home, however, having run away at sixteen and living on his own ever since. He definitely did not want to go back, and certainly did not want to ever live there again, hateful of the memories the place awakened.

James looked at him understandingly. "I know it's difficult for you, mate, but you're going to have to face it sooner or later."

"Dumbledore told me he was planning to use it as headquarters for the Order." Sirius grimaced. "He can have it. I really don't care. But it needs a lot of work before we can even consider it suitable for human habitation."

"I had hoped we could do it as soon as possible."

"In that case, it cannot be any later than Christmas," Sirius said thoughtfully. As though inspired by a sudden idea, his face brightened. "Why don't you and your family spend Christmas there with me? I'll ask Remus, too."

James also cheered up at the prospect of a holiday reunion. "That would be excellent. Lily would love that."

"Harry would want the Grangers and the Weasleys to come as well," Sirius added, not noticing his best friend's fleeting change of expression. He clapped his hands. "Now I am indeed looking forward to cleaning it up! Is that old stinking house-elf -- Kreacher, yes, that's his name -- still alive?" His smile widened. "Oh, what would he say, the remaining Black bringing half-bloods and Muggle-borns into the noble and ancient house of his true masters."

James sniggered, familiar with the bias for blood that the house shared with its previous inhabitants. Of the Marauders, only James had been allowed access by the Blacks. That was just once, when he was thirteen. After hearing his best friend's parents talk about the importance of the purity of blood for two tedious hours, James had sworn that he would never step foot in that house again as long as he -- or they -- lived.

"The necklace first, Sirius," James reminded gently.

Sirius brandished one hand airily. "Oh, that will be easy, Prongs. With any luck, it'll be hiding behind my mother's screeching portrait. Thank goodness I now have a reason to tear that down."

* * * * * * *

December dawned with the pleasant Christmas chill already in the air. Instead of enjoying it outside, Hermione was wrapped in her cloak inside Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, getting ready to add the ferromagnetic particles to the Time-Turner solution.

"I'm sure I've done everything correctly," Hermione murmured feverishly as she gazed into the cauldron, the potion still bubbling. "I mean, it does look like it's supposed to." She was about to perform the hour-long precipitation process when she heard shuffling footsteps coming from the end cubicle.

Hermione glanced sharply towards the sound. "Hello? Is anybody there?" she called out, her voice magnified by the tiles. The muffled thudding stopped, and Hermione shivered despite herself. "I thought there was somebody there," she murmured.

On her knees, she levitated the cauldron with her wand and tilted it so that its contents spilled into another waiting cauldron with a filter atop it. Sieving the viscous liquid of the potion through the small pores for one hour was required for the precipitate to be completely isolated. Hermione, after preparing the setup, moved away and sat on the cold floor, reading and rereading the potion instructions carefully from top to bottom.

When she tired of it, Hermione's thoughts wandered to how she could charm the Time-Turner to go back one year per turn. The earth, she had read, revolved around the sun and rotated on its axis due to the immense gravitational pull of the sun on it. To counter that force, one could not hope to rely simply on the mass of the Earth. What the potion inside the Time-Turner did was concentrate a strong magnetic force inside the hourglass -- enough to reverse the Earth's motion to a small extent.

Hermione had considered adding more ferromagnetic particles into the mixture, but she knew that in potion making the consequences were not additive. The effects of one element in a potion were not always the same as in other potions, or even in other proportions used with the same potion. This was why she had rejected the idea almost immediately after it had occurred to her. Besides, Hermione already had an inkling that the potion, as it was, would weigh heavily on her neck once it was inside the hourglass. What she needed was a way to increase the magnetic force inside the Time-Turner without drastically increasing its weight.

The dying trickle of the solution as its last drops strained through the filter reminded Hermione that she was still in Moaning Myrtle's miserable bathroom and that she had a potion to finish. She carefully removed the net on top of the cauldron and vanished the remaining liquid with a flick of her wand. Hermione then transferred the dried precipitate to a small bowl. She reached inside her bag for the small vial that contained the fine ferromagnetic particles, uncorked it, and emptied it into the bowl. She swirled the mixture of solid particles until the final sandy texture it was supposed to possess was evident.

Hermione also removed the hourglass and the gold chain from her school bag and set them beside the bowl. She took out a specific volume of the mixture and charmed it so that with another wave of her wand, the aliquot filled the hourglass. She attached the hourglass to the chain and surveyed the Time-Turner critically. It appeared to emanate a faint, silvery glow. Hermione smiled at the sense of satisfaction that filled her each time she accomplished a particularly difficult feat.

Not so fast, Hermione, she cautioned herself. You still need to verify it does what it's supposed to do. She fastened the Time-Turner around her neck and gasped at the significant increase in its weight. Feels heavy, check. Stage one completed, Hermione thought wryly.

She stood up and walked towards the stall at the far end of the bathroom, her hands still clutching at the hourglass as she tried to ease its burden, almost in prayer. She was holding what could be her key to be with...him. Hermione sighed. The fact that she was having difficulty saying his name was proof of how uncomfortable she was with the whole thing. Again, the absurdity of the situation struck her. The reservations she had since the beginning were asserting themselves more strongly as time progressed. What would Harry say if he found out? What would Lily -- no, Mrs. Potter -- say? What would everybody say?

Well then, they are not going to find out, Hermione promised herself grimly. She rubbed the hourglass between her thumb and index finger, finding comfort once more in its smoothness. Besides, what am I being so uptight about? I haven't done anything yet. That defence was getting easier to say, but sounded less convincing, each time.

Just in case she had indeed succeeded in creating a Time-Turner -- and she was almost certain she had -- she needed to keep her time-travelling self from seeing her present self. Hermione entered the end stall and locked it, her hands shaking. Her eyes closed, she turned the hourglass on its chain upside down once, managing to do it using two hands. All of a sudden, she felt like she was being squeezed into a funnel as the world around her whirled in different colours. When the spinning stopped, she was slumped against the wall of the cubicle, dizzy and drained. She shuffled her feet in an effort to stand up and regain her balance.

Hermione stood stock still, all her senses heightened. How on earth was she going to know if she had indeed gone back one hour in time? Think, Hermione, think. All was quiet outside. Wait a minute. One hour ago, I was already here, getting ready to filter the potion. Before she could peek through a crack in the door to confirm her suspicions, however, she heard a voice call out.

"Hello? Is anybody there?"

Hermione trembled. That voice sounded too much like her own. In fact, I think it was me, one hour ago. She peered through the chink in the door and hastily stifled a gasp. It was her, indeed, her eyes worriedly drifting towards the end stall, where her time-travelling body was.

"I thought there was somebody there," Hermione heard herself say.

This is absolutely freaky, Hermione thought, backing away from the door. Now I understand what the book said about Time-Turners driving people to murder their own selves. She clutched the hourglass around her neck once more and struggled to reverse its turn so that she could go back to the present. That sensation of being constricted engulfed her again, but before she could throw up, she was already back on her feet. Hermione looked around her cautiously. Is it over? She peered once more through the wood splinter and saw no sign of herself outside. She let out a sigh of relief, unlocked the door and stepped out of the stall.

I did it. I actually did it. Hermione didn't know if she should be happy -- or scared. She had defied not just Ministry laws, but the very law of nature that kept all things in order. She bit her lower lip hard and forced such thoughts out of her head. The hesitations she had disregarded were piling up, and Hermione feared they would one day swallow her up and drown her in a pool of regret.

There's always time for regrets later.

She fixed her things and cleaned up her mess, storing the sandy mixture in a dark glass vial to minimize its exposure to sunlight. She headed out of the bathroom and made her way to the library. It was time to search for the answer to the last part of the problem.

* * * * * * *

"I thought I'd find you here."

Hermione looked up from the book she was reading into Harry's green eyes. She snapped the book closed. "Oh, hi," she said awkwardly. She did not know what else to say.

Harry smiled at her, albeit quite uncertainly. "What were you reading?" he asked as he took a seat beside Hermione. When she did not answer, he read the title off the spine of the book. "The Book of Almost Obsolete Charms, Volume One." He looked at her once more, but she refused to meet his eyes. Harry glanced at the other books on the table, taking in their titles. All musty, all with yellowish pages, all on charms.

"What are these for?"

"Light reading," Hermione answered simply, reopening the book and starting to read again. Harry quirked one eyebrow, and she sighed, acquiescent to making an excuse. "Well, okay, not really. I'm looking for a charm to intensify the effects of any curse, charm or potion, but I haven't encountered a suitable one yet."

"What do you intend to use it for?"

Hermione shrugged nonchalantly. "It was just one of those things I wondered about. You know."

No, I don't know. Why don't you just tell me? Harry thought. But now that he had her talking with him, the last thing he wanted was to get into an argument with her. "I was looking for you. Sirius sent me an owl."

"What?" she blurted out, sitting up straighter. "I mean -- what was it about?"

Harry found her outburst strange, but again, refused to comment on it. "He's planning a huge Christmas reunion at his place on Christmas Eve. He wants my family there, of course, as well as your family and the Weasleys. Oh, and Professor Lupin as well."

Hermione relaxed back in her seat. She had been afraid the post carried news of how she had saved the Minister's life in Hogsmeade last month. "I'm going home for the holidays, so I can tell my parents about his invitation. I'm sure they'll be delighted to come, especially with Mr. Weasley entertaining them," she finished with a smile.

Harry leaned in and kissed her, but only on the cheek. "Well, that's all I really came to say," he said. "I've got to go to Quidditch practice. See you later." He stood up and ran his fingers through her hair as she looked up at him, surprised at the mild detachment he displayed.

"Oh, and by the way, Hermione, the charm's Amplificare."

Harry was smirking to himself on his way to the Quidditch locker rooms. Ron had been right after all, in suggesting he make his girlfriend miss him a little by not being around her all the time.

See, mate, Hermione likes to think she's being independent by spending time on her own. But trust me, she wouldn't want to spend all of it alone. Remember how hard she tried to hang out with us in first year?

Harry smiled as he remembered Ron's words. If Hermione wanted some space and time alone, then she would definitely get what she bargained for. Give her a dose of her own medicine.

He'd have fun watching her in the process.