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Hello and welcome to my first sirius x hermione fanfiction!! I am, and always will be, a dramione girlie at heart, but I wanted to try something else and young sirius is a close second to draco malfoy, so here we are.
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Thank you for showing an interest to yet another time-travel fic, and I hope you’ll enjoy my vision <3
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The echoes of laughter lingered in her ears long after the battle had resumed.
“The Boy who Lived, no more!” Voldemort’s voice echoed with a chilling resonance.
Then he had laughed. A sinister, truly horrible sound. The lifeless body of her best friend, mutilated and unrecognisable, lay at his bare feet, and the monster was laughing. Hermione, transfixed, couldn’t tear her eyes away from the scene.
"You see? Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!" Voldemort added, a maniacal glint dancing in his eyes and a cruel smirk curling his lips.
Around her, people were running and screaming, but all she could hear was that laughter. Members of the Order of the Phoenix were throwing spells at Death Eaters, fighting for their lives. She knew she had to move - to fight - but it felt like she was stuck, held captive deep inside her own body. Unable to move, unable to speak and scream. She could only watch, silently.
Something crashed into her, snapping her head to the side and causing all the air to leave her body. The ringing in her ears stopped at once, now replaced by the sound of chaos around her.
“Snap out of it, Granger.”
She barely had time to register the pale blond hair of Draco Malfoy before he pulled her up to her feet and briskly walked away from her, wand aimed at Antonin Dolohov’s back.
She didn’t waste any more time. Regaining her composure, she looked across the courtyard, her panicked gaze easily shifting to the familiar bright head of Ronald Weasley, who was throwing spell after spell at a masked Death Eater. She needed to help him, to save him. She hadn’t been able to help Harry; she would not lose her other best friend today.
Determination ignited within her as she navigated the debris-strewn courtyard, stepping over dead bodies and castle ruins. She quickly made her way towards Ron, throwing Stunning Spells at a group of young sympathisers to the Dark Lord who were busy tormenting and torturing younger students. Children torturing children.
Reaching Ron just in time to throw a Shield Charm to deflect the spell sent to his back, she turned on her heels and sent a blasting curse to the masked Death Eater. The curse hit its target at the centre of its chest, and Hermione watched as the wizard was blasted to pieces, his robes, flesh and what Hermione could only guess were parts of his guts flying in all direction.
Her back flush to Ron’s, she felt his fingers brush against the palm of her hand, and she grabbed them in her own. She needed to reassure herself that he was here, with her. That he was safe.
Breathless and surveying the courtyard with sharp eyes, Hermione took in the grim portrait laid bare before her. She could see it plainly, in the puddles of glistening blood, in the bodies lying like discarded Wizard Chess pieces on the cold ground, in the cries of pain and anger that were resonating on the castle walls.
"We're losing," Hermione whispered, the words carried away by the wind but resonating in the depths of her magical core. Without Harry, none of them would make it out alive.
They needed to flee. Hermione could almost hear Harry’s voice, shouting in her mind. “Where’s your Gryffindor bravery?” She didn’t feel brave anymore, all she could feel was pain and fear and worry. This was no longer a time to be brave, they had to be smart. It was time to escape and regroup, to come up with a plan. They were lost without the Chosen One, and they were being slaughtered by a madman and his sick followers.
She would apparate them away, far away to safety, the consequences be damned. She would deal with the dirty looks and accusations later, now all that mattered was making it out of the chaos alive.
In the distance, a desperate cry echoed through the air, drowning every other sound and stopping her dead in her tracks. Her breath caught in her throat as she recognized the voice and spotted the head of fiery red curls across the yard.
Molly Weasley, the woman she had grown to consider her second mother, stood tall, her wand raised and pointed at the witch that still haunted Hermione’s nightmares. Bellatrix, a crazed glint in her eyes and a cruel smile stretching her lips, regarded the Weasley Matriarch with mock interest.
Under ordinary circumstances, Molly - though a potent witch with a nurturing heart - might not have stood a chance against the most deranged of Death Eater. However, the discovery of Fred's lifeless body had fractured something within her. The witch, usually coddling and motherly, had lost a part of herself then, shedding her usual demeanor. And that missing part had been replaced by a blinding rage.
Harry’s death had been another knife to the heart. The boy may not have been her son by blood, but she was his mother in every other sense that mattered. She had watched him grow into a brave young man, had welcomed him into her home, had coddled him and loved him like her own. She had felt his lost as deeply as Fred’s.
The catalyst for Molly’s descent into a vengeful madness had been the heart-wrenching demise of yet another member of her family. She could do nothing but watch as George collapsed at her feet, a Severing Charm hitting him on the chest and slicing his body in half. She stood frozen in shock, looking at the mutilated body of her son.
Reality seized her once more, snapping her back to the present as she heard cackling sounds of madness. The haunting sound, a mockery to her grief, was spilling out of the deranged Black sister’s thin lips, who had her wand still raised at the unmoving body of her son.
Her son that would never laugh again. In that harrowing moment, the last strand of Molly's sanity splintered, and her vision narrowed to the unhinged figure of Bellatrix Lestrange. Laughing at her dead son. Laughing at all the bodies littering the ground. Laughing at all the young lives lost and the chaos of war.
Stepping with grim determination around the lifeless body of her beloved boy, Molly slowly advanced towards the mad witch. Her wand danced in the air, a symphony of curses unleashing in a desperate pursuit of retribution. Bellatrix easily deflected them, cruel mirth glimmering in her dead black eyes.
But Molly Weasley had accepted her imminent death, and she would bring the bitch down with her. With a desperate cry that echoed through the darkened battlefield, Molly launched herself at Bellatrix. Her wand descended like a knife into the throat of the evil witch that had help destroy her family.
Surprise flickered in Bellatrix’ eyes as the wand pierced her, blood pooling and dripping down her collarbone. Molly, undeterred, withdrew her wand, uttering the incantation for the Severing charm in the same breath.
Reacting on instinct, Bellatrix cast the Killing curse with her final breath, the green light hitting the Weasley matriarch in the heart and killing her instantly, painlessly. Molly’s body crumpled to the ground, followed closely by the bleeding and nearly headless witch.
Ron’s hand tightened in her own, and Hermione quickly wrapped her arm around his midsection to keep him standing. His wails pierced her ears, and she felt her heart break for the hundredth time that day. Tears, unbidden and unstoppable, blurred her vision, a wet veil that made it increasingly difficult to shield them and keep them safe. Ron was in no shape to defend himself. The battle raged on around them, but all the fight had left her body.
“Ron! Ron we have to go now.” She pleaded. A sob caught in her throat, but she steeled herself to speak through the pain. “I’m going to Apparate us away now, okay? Somewhere we’ll be safe.”
Ron, fueled by a stubborn resolve, tried to extricate himself from her protective embrace to join the fight. His knees buckled under his weight, and he would have crumpled face-first to the ground if not for Hermione’s arms holding him upright. Even if he had been in any state to fight, it was too late. Hermione had not been the only one coming to the conclusion that retreating to somewhere safe and hidden was their only chance of survival.
Amidst the chaos, the courtyard became a tapestry of Apparition - members of the Order of the Phoenix, students and professors who had stayed to defend the castle and various witches and wizards that had joined the fight for Good vanished.
The pops of Apparition, like fleeting sparks, were swiftly swallowed by the furious shouts of the Dark Lord and his minions. Their mocking voices echoed through the deserted space, taunting them to retreat and cursing for fleeing like the little cowards they were.
Gathering the strength to Apparate them both away, Hermione clutched Ron with unwavering determination. She lifted her gaze and caught sight of a familiar figure standing resolute in the nearly deserted courtyard. Professor McGonagall, standing straight before a group of masked wizards, was blasting spells and curses in every direction. The castle was her responsibility, her home. And she would not abandon it.
In the fleeting moment before Hermione vanished from the battlefield, she witnessed the long slithering body of Nagini launching itself with unhinged jaws at her unsuspecting Head of House. Hermione's eyes shuttered closed, blocking out the horrifying sight, and she focused on the mental image of their destination, her breath still lodged in her throat.
Pressure enveloped her from every direction as the magic of Disapparition transported them away. The world blurred, and the sensation of nausea gripped her. When her feet touched solid ground, she couldn’t tell if the nausea came from the magical transportation, or the horrible fate that awaited Minerva McGonagall.