Chapter Text
May 3,1977
Sirius Black was many things: a charmer, a rake, an all around ladies man. He was not, however, a monogamous lover.
Throw in a bleeding, broken and cursed soulmate into the mix, though, and suddenly he was finding himself beginning to change his tune on that matter.
Hermione appeared stunned by his revelation; her eyes wide and mouth gaping open in shock.
“That’s…that’s not possible. Soulmates do not exist.”
Dumbledore, in his infinite wisdom and batty old grandfatherly demeanor, stepped closer to the bed.
“Actually, my dear, they are very much real. We keep a record of confirmed bonded pairs at the Ministry in the Department of Mysteries. There have only been twelve known bonded pairs which have attended Hogwarts together, and only one pair belonged to the same graduating class. Some were much older, some younger. Madam Pomfrey, however, could tell you much more than I.”
There was something mischievous in Dumbledore’s eyes as he turned the floor over to the school’s resident healer.
She blushed and wiped her hands down the front of her apron.
“Honestly, Albus. Oh, alright. I found my bonded mate here at Hogwarts many years ago, and we still live here together to this day. If you stay on At Hogwarts to finish your schooling, provided you’re underage like I assume, then you’ll meet her as your Transfiguration Professor, Minerva McGonagall.”
Hermione appeared to be even more shocked at learning that news than discovering Sirius was her soulmate. Curious, considering she didn’t necessarily have a dog in the fight, as they say. when it came to Hogwarts professors.
“I’m sorry, this is all just…so much to process.”
She put a hand to her forehead and Sirius felt an immediate pull to try and comfort her through any stress she might’ve been feeling, all because of him.
All because he’d—
No. She was being attacked.
He had pulled her away from that fate.
He’d torn her from everything she’d ever known, and somehow saved her in the process.
It was wild, ancient magic that had done this. He could only thank the stars that were watching over him for bringing her to him.
He would protect her now, this beautiful enigma of a soulmate he’d been gifted.
He’d never had anything that was truly his; sure, he had his family but his brother had always been there in the shadows, waiting to take his spot when he eventually ran away. It was a family that spurned him at every turn, but he still would’ve liked to call a family his own.
Then there was James, his chosen brother, and Potter Manor and everything that came with it.
He would never resent James for anything; he’d been the one to give him shelter, but Fleamont and Euphemia weren’t his parents by birth, no matter how much they claimed to love him.
He tried not to let it sting too much when they brought out the baby pictures and Sirius was forced to confront the fact that he’d never had a mother or father who’d protected him as a child, who’d wanted to take photos of him laughing while playing on toy brooms or getting into sticky jam and capturing silly, embarrassing bath times.
But this?
Her?
This fragile, sweet, trembling girl in his arms?
Maybe she could be his.
If only he didn’t scare her off first.
Dumbledore took over the conversation, next.
“Well, Mr. Black, if you’d like to go about this by sticking to the old ways, I could give you permission to hold a meeting with a Ministry official in my office before the end of term, thus allowing Miss Granger here to return home with you. That is, of course, if she is underage?”
“I—I’m eighteen, but I haven’t finished my last year of schooling. My birthday falls late, so I’m a year ahead of all my friends. I was supposed to start my Seventh Year this September but, well, I’ll obviously need to find other accommodations.”
Dumbledore brought his hand to his beard, stroking it slightly as Madam Pomfrey flitted around Hermione’s bedside, checking diagnostics and a bloody bandage on her arm that Sirius hadn’t noticed when he’d first brought her in.
“Quite right, Miss Granger. Do you have any keepsakes from your previous home you’d like to have the Aurors recover? We’ll have to send them to the site of the attack, of course.”
She went rigid in his arms, and Sirius rubbed his hands up and down her shoulders, satisfied when she seemed to melt back into him.
“R-right. I’ll just…write down an account of what happened, as well as the address of our home, and that’s could be handed off to the Aurors, yes? I’d really…I’d really just like to rest, if possible?”
Madam Pomfrey clicked her tongue.
“Of course, dear. If I had it my way, these two wouldn’t have been able to even speak with you until morning after a proper rest but, considering the strange circumstances, I allowed it. Now, Albus, if that is all?”
Dumbledore nodded his head and his eyes twinkled as they rested on Sirius and Hermione.
“Mr. Black, I believe we are being politely evicted from the hospital ward. If you’d accompany me to our storage facilities, I believe there are some spare robes for Miss Granger with no house affiliation. We can, of course, get her sorted in the new year. Miss Granger, would you be against taking an entrance exam to verify your grade level?”
A light came on in her eyes that has seemed previously diminished.
“An exam? Oh, of course, sir! There were multiple subjects that I was taking for my NEWT’s: Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies.”
Sirius was speechless.
Was his soulmate…a swot?
Oh, Remus was going to have a bloody field day with this one.
He bet she even loved to read.
“No Divination, dear?” Dumbledore asked.
Hermione grumbled something under her breath, but Sirius caught the tail end of it.
“—rubbish subject. Total waste of time.”
Sirius chuckled at her vehement hatred of the subject. Maybe that was why she refused to believe in soulmates.
“Well, that’s wonderful. I’ll set everything up, do not worry. Now, Mr. Black, I believe we have an errand to run?”
Sirius looked back to Hermione, something like panic flaring in his veins.
Why was he so terrified to leave her? She would be safe in Pomfrey’s care.
He noted the dirt streaked on the pale skin of her cheeks, the wreckage that was her voluminous curly hair. He wondered what color it would shine in the sunlight, free of dirt and sticks and blood and whatever the hell else (was that rubble?!) that was stuck inside of it.
Fuck, he still had her blood staining his robes.
Her blood for Merlin’s sake.
It hit him suddenly, how close she’d come to dying on him.
His soulmate, dying before he’d ever had a chance to know her.
“I’ll be back soon, alright? I’m sure Poppy will get you right as rain, loaded up with some Dreamless Sleep Potion, and you’ll never even know I was gone. You’re going to be quite sick of me here soon, I predict.”
Her face transformed into a beautiful, soft smile. It was something filled with emotions that didn’t make sense: nostalgia, a hint of something bittersweet, maybe even some contentment. There was gratitude there, too.
He wondered if he lived up to what she would want in a soulmate.
He wanted to know who she was, but most of all, he wanted to keep her safe.
The memory of rushing her down to Pomfrey as the healer performed emergency diagnostics rushed to the forefront of his mind—the way Hermione had needed powdered silver for the claw marks on her chest, the way that he’d had to massage her throat to get her to swallow phial after phial of Blood Replenishers…
Sirius suddenly felt the weight of everything that had happened that night bearing down upon him like a tiny ship in the midst of a hurricane.
And my, what a force this woman was unto him.
She stared at him with honey amber eyes, and he sank into her depths, unwilling to ever find a way to pull himself back out.
He extricated himself from her on the bed, pausing quickly as she hissed out in pain, but then Pomfrey was there, shooing him away, and it was all he could do to keep his feet firmly rooted to the floor while the healer hovered over Hermione, checking and re-checking her diagnostics that floated above her head in a colorful array Sirius couldn’t make out.
Fuck, he wished Moony was there—at least he would’ve explained what the flashing lights next to the swirling runes meant.
Dumbledore clapped a hand on Sirius’ shoulder.
“I see they have this well in hand, my boy. Why don’t we set about finding Miss Granger some spare clothes? I am positive she wouldn’t want to spend her remaining time here in hospital robes.”
“Thank you, Professor Dumbledore. It was…nice to meet you.”
“You as well, my dear. Sirius?”
But Sirius hadn’t looked away from Hermione, and her eyes were still locked on his.
“You’ll…you’ll come back?”
Her voice was a sad whimper against the backdrop of his thudding heart, and there was nothing in this godforsaken school, this country—hell, even this world, that would keep him from her.
“Before you even notice I’m gone.”
Pomfrey gave her a dose of what he was sure to be Dreamless Sleep, and he returned to her side for just a moment more, clasping her hand with his, careful of the scratches and cuts along her fingers, the callouses from where her wand sat.
There were older scars dotting along the skin, burn marks warping it where only softness should have been.
She should never have had to endure what she had, and Sirius would make damn sure that, once healed, her body would never see such turmoil again.
He didn’t take having a soulmate lightly.
“T-thank you.”
Her words slurred as her eyes drooped, but her hand never let go of the vise grip on his until every sliver of her irises had disappeared.
There was an aching in his chest at the sight. All he wanted to do was gather her up in his arms and make sure no more harm ever befell her, but, alas, Dumbledore probably wanted the entire nitty-gritty of the spell, and would most likely punish him for his transgressions, considering it was his family’s spell, not to mention his own idea to perform it.
He could only hope his punishment would allow him to see Hermione while she recovered.
It was almost the end of term, with only the end-of-year exams to go. Perhaps he could persuade Dumbledore to allow him to serve his detentions in the hospital ward with Pomfrey, where he could watch over Hermione.
He mulled that thought over as he walked silently through the castle with Dumbledore, pausing only when they reached the entrance to his office and the Headmaster gave the password.
Soon, he was seated before a roaring fire, portraits of long-dead headmasters staring down at him in curiosity.
“Now, Mr. Black, why don’t you tell me what it is that compelled you to perform an illegal spell involving blood magic in my school?”
There was no twinkle left in Dumbledore’s blue eyes.
He gulped.
“Peer pressure?”
A tick passed, then two.
Then—
“Am I to assume Mr. Potter had his hand in this?”
Fuck. He couldn’t rat out the rest of the Marauders, especially not his brother.
“What makes you think that?”
He’d learned a thing or two growing up in a Slytherin household—the art of deflection.
“Oh, nothing of note. Just that the young Mr. Potter seems utterly besotted with a certain redhead of your house, and a soul to reveal one’s soulmate sounds like something he would have come up with in order to, how do you say, persuade her on the matter.”
Sirius huffed a laugh, realizing that the old Headmaster was clearly more perceptive than his persona let on.
“You might be correct on that front, though I reserve the right to hold my tongue on the matter.”
Dumbledore smiled indulgently at him.
“Loyal to a fault, as always, Mr. Black. Now, to the matter at hand: your newfound soulmate. This is…a bit unprecedented, you know. Soulmates have fallen to the wayside as modern times have arisen, and as the staunch blood purity circles have amassed more power. A Muggleborn and a Pureblood having a soulmate match would be detrimental to their cause, you see, since it is ancient magics that are not to be trifled with. Easier for the blood purists to lie and say their progeny has never found a true match than to allow their line to be ‘sullied’ with what they claim to be inferior blood.”
“I am aware, sir. I am a Black after all, much as I am loathe to admit. But, Hermione has no living family around, and I have the Potters. Surely, something can be done to find her proper lodgings soon?”
Dumbledore, head tilted down in acquiescence, gave a slight nod as he brought his hands up to smooth his long beard.
“Yes, yes, I have some ideas on that front. Have you met Mr. Potter’s uncle, Charlus, and his wife Dorea?”
“Of course, Headmaster. Charlus and Dorea have been at every Potter holiday function since I came to live with them. What do they have to do with this?”
Dumbledore smiled brightly, then.
“And you are aware that Dorea is your great aunt? Her maiden name is, after all, Dorea Black.”
“Yes, we are all related in some way or another around here. Hell, I’m sure you and I share some blood in a roundabout sort of way--er, Sir.”
Sirius watched as Dumbledore hummed thoughtfully to himself.
“Yes, Dorea and Charlus had such a hard time conceiving a child that they decided to give up. I’m sure having any child, even one grown enough to be on their own, would be a boon to their household. I will write to them at once; any young witch with a claim to Fleamont’s newly acquired son will need to be protected within the Potter family.”
“Wait, you’re saying…you want Dorea and Charlus to adopt Hermione? I just assumed…”
“What, that your chosen family would allow an unwed Witch and Wizard with a soulmate claim to one another to live together in the same household? You’ve lived with Fleamont and Euphemia long enough to know what they will and will not tolerate, and grandchildren out of wedlock--”
“Alright, alright, no one said anything about children here.”
Sirius nearly choked on his own words as they came out of his mouth.
Gods, children.
He didn’t even know this Witch, but somehow it sounded right.
He could see it--Sirius Black, family man.
Even with his sizable inheritance from his Uncle Alphard, he’d still need to provide for this fictional family he was creating in his head.
He’d go off to work, maybe as an Auror, and come home to Hermione and their young children.
Or maybe she’d like to travel, he didn’t know much about her personality yet.
She could want to be a working Witch, given how driven she’d seemed with all the classes she’d listed off to Dumbledore that she’d been taking before the attack on her family.
Then, there was her family.
Where had she lived before? What was her childhood like? Did she have a boyfriend out there somewhere, waiting for her to return to him?
The thought sent unchecked and immediate anger rushing through his system.
Dumbledore cleared his throat before continuing.
“Be that as it may, Mr. Black, I believe this course of action is best. I will write to them at once, and it would be best if you could write them something as well, apprising them of the more nuanced details of Miss Granger’s sudden appearance, as well as your thoughts and feelings on the matter. Perhaps Charlus and Dorea can arrive with the Ministry personnel when they come to oversee the soulmate claim.”
“I--yes, yes that sounds alright.”
Dumbledore smiled brightly back at Sirius, and he wondered if something had shifted between the two of them in the course of this discussion.
It was something massive, a schism that appeared between them, but Sirius wasn’t quite sure what had caused it, or why.
There was a new reverence Dumbledore appraised him of after learning of Hermione, almost like there was something that he knew that Sirius didn’t.
Suddenly, Sirius wished he was better at Legilimency, just so he could divest his Headmaster of all his secrets regarding the Witch who suddenly had such a tight grip on him.
“Wonderful. Now, about Miss Granger’s particulars. We’ll need to enlist the help of the Head Girl to find her the appropriate clothing and belongings for the rest of her stay here, not to mention her wand. We can make arrangements to take her to Ollivander’s to remedy that. My dear boy, why aren’t you taking notes?”
Sirius quickly jumped as Dumbledore handed him a pad and quill and Sirius dutifully wrote down dates and times and appointments and tasks that he needed to perform and was hit with the sudden realization that he was in charge of the well being of an entire person.
It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling; being needed.
Sirius smiled as he took notes.
***
Hermione woke feeling warm and comfortable, someone warm snuggling her legs.
No, not a person--a dog.
Padfoot.
She smiled into her sleep and threaded her fingers through his soft fur, wrapping her arms and body along his even if it pulled at the stitches on her chest.
Muggle stitches, she noted, thankful that Madam Pomfrey wasn’t against using different methods of healing when it came to cursed wounds.
She knew the scars would never leave, but at least they would close, in time.
She sighed out contentedly, unaware of the other three Marauders hiding beneath an invisible cloak in the corner.
At least, until she heard their frantic whispering as they thought she was asleep.
“--bloody soulmate! This is insane!”
“Hush, Wormy. If they truly are soulmates, then I’m quite happy for them. About time Pads settled down, and this one seems alright enough from what I’ve seen of her. Tough as nails, looks like.”
Peter--at least, she assumed it was Peter--scoffed.
“You’re just saying that because you know Lily is your soulmate and you want the rest of us tied down so we can go on group dates with you while you act even more disgustingly in love with each other than you already are.”
“You think Lily is disgustingly in love with me?”
Remus’ soft laugh carried in the air to her ears and her chest ached.
She had missed her kind professor. Maybe this meant she could help save him, especially from himself.
“Not really the point, Prongs. I think what Peter is trying to say is that he doesn’t necessarily want to be left behind now that you and Sirius are most likely going to be coupled up for our last year at Hogwarts.”
“Oh? And what about you, Moony? Don’t think we didn’t notice you eyeing Macdonald all year.”
“That’s nothing. We all know I can’t…have anyone, in that way. If I want to look, I’ll look, but I’ll always keep my distance.”
Hermione’s heart was near to bursting for her old professor, but there was nothing she could do about it at that moment.
She kept her breathing and heart rate steady as they kept speaking in low whispers.
She smirked to herself. So much for sneaky Marauders.
“Oh, save us the self sacrificing routine, Moony. We all know the girls around here are desperate for a bite of you, even if you won’t let them get close.”
“A bite, Pete? You couldn’t have used a different word?”
“Sorry, sorry. But you know it’s true, Moons. Anyway, I thought we were talking about the new bird? She’s Sirius’ soulmate for gods’ sake! He’s going to want to tell her, like, everything.”
“He won’t tell her everything, not without asking me first.”
“Remus, how are we supposed to know if she’s trustworthy? She just fell out of thin air and practically landed in Sirius’ lap. How are we supposed to know if its real or if its a trap set by his evil family?”
“Much as I hate to agree with you on that front, Wormtail, you have a bit of a point,” James responded, his voice tight with unguarded loyalty to his chosen brother.
“We’re going to have to keep an eye on her. At least until she proves her loyalty. We can’t risk our secrets with just anyone, especially such an unknown like her. Imagine the sway she’s going to have over Sirius--he’s already wrapped around her finger, and so protective over her. Or do you all not remember how he snapped at us when Pomfrey peeled her shirt back to check her injuries on her chest when we first brought her in? He acted like we were perverted leeches and like it wasn’t a life or death situation; as if anything untoward was going on in our brains in that moment.”
“I assume it was instinct,” Remus rebutted to James.
“I have the wolf in my mind constantly telling me what to do, what to say, how to feel. I’m sure now that Sirius has a soulmate, the ancient magic of what that means is trying to…guide him, in some way or other.”
As if in response, Padfoot huffed a hot breath against Hermione’s thigh and curled even tighter around her.
Her heart fluttered at the movement, remembering lonely nights in Grimmauld Place when older Sirius would do something so similar and she would wish he would just transform so he could wrap his arms around her and make her feel the safety he always gave her.
“Well, instinct or not, it's our job to protect him from anyone or anything that might hurt him. He’s too close to this, too far in it to see any faults with her after finding her the way he did. She’s hurt, yeah, but we have no idea where she really came from, or who she really is. Dumbledore vouched for her family, but how could he know after just talking with her? She could’ve come up with that name on the spot, or maybe she took the identity of the girl she’s pretending to be. We just have no clue, and that’s the scariest part.”
“You’re right, Wormy. And that’s why we’ll stick close, just like glue to his side, and hers by extension.”
“And if we see anything suspicious, and we tell Padfoot? What if he doesn’t listen?”
James posed the question, but no one really had an answer until Remus responded.
“Then we’ll make him see reason. If she’s suspicious or evil, or planted into his life by his family, he’ll never want anything more to do with her, trust me. Anything to do with his family, and she’ll be out before she can say anything to her defense.”
Hermione’s heart stuttered a bit as a flare of hurt tore through her chest.
They didn’t trust her; they probably wouldn’t even like her if they got the chance to know her.
It was hard enough for her to get some allegiance with Harry and Ron after they begrudgingly became her friends after the troll in First Year.
It was always in the back of her mind, the niggling doubt that they only kept her around for convenience.
She didn’t think she could take it if yet another possible friend group rejected her before they ever even gave her a chance.
Remus sniffed the air, and they all went still.
“What is it?”
“I thought I smelled…no, it couldn’t be.”
“What? What did you smell Moony?”
Remus responded to James’ inquiry with a stunned reply: “Pack. But…but not us four. It’s almost like Moony is trying to recognize a new member. A…this is insane, but he keeps screaming at me the word ‘Pup’. It can mean a new baby in the pack, a small child, or someone innocent we need to protect.”
“But there’s not a kid in here,” James responded.
“No, but there is someone who could be innocent. Someone hurt, someone who needs protection,” Remus pointed out, and Hermione tried her hardest not to stiffen at his words.
Had Moony recognized her scent from the future?
“It can’t be her, can it? I mean, we just talked about this. She’s not pack, she can’t be trusted.”
“I know that, Wormy. I’m just telling you all what Moony is screaming in my head.”
“Come on, let’s collect Padfoot before he gets found by Pomfrey.”
And then they were silently shaking Padfoot awake, trying to get him to transform back into Sirius and get back to their dorm before the rest of the castle woke up.
Sirius, however, was proving to be a problem.
“Come on, Pads. Hurry up or you’ll wake her up!”
“Hush Wormy!”
But the damage was done.
Hermione couldn’t possibly pretend to be asleep after Peter’s loud outburst.
“Who’s there?”
Hermione pretended to be scared at the disembodied voices coming from her bed as the three boys hid under the cloak.
Padfoot shifted in her lap.
“Oh, hello. And who are you and how did you get into a hospital ward?”
She scratched the back of Padfoot’s ears as the dog relaxed into her palm. A wistful smile fell onto her face at his reaction.
“I suppose you’re my protector then, aren’t you? There seem to be ghosts in this place,” she said quietly, knowing the boys were watching her interaction with their best friend.
A light flicked on in Pomfrey’s office and Padfoot stood at attention and jumped off her bed at once, and Hermione hissed in pain as the action caused the bed to jostle and pull at some of her injuries.
Padfoot turned concerned eyes back to her but she merely gave him a wry smile.
“You’re a perceptive one, aren’t you? You’d better go, before you’re found. Thank you for the cuddles, I quite needed them.”
Padfoot chuffed and trotted off, and she assumed the trio of boys under the cloak followed him because there were no other voices when the Animagus disappeared.
Pomfrey came to check on her and sprinkled some powdered silver over her injuries on her chest, and Hermione lied and told her she would take the Dreamless Sleep but left it untouched.
It always gave her nightmares. It was not, in fact, so dreamless for those who’d experienced torture.
It was the quiet solitude where she began planning.
If she was truly stuck in the past, which she believed herself to be, she was going to make the most of it.
She would, of course, research ways to get back to her time, but there was no way that she had been Sirius’ soulmate in her time and he wouldn’t have told her about it.
Not to mention the fact that Dumbledore or Remus hadn’t recognized her.
So then, the way she had fallen back wasn’t through the time loop like with her Time Turner in Third Year.
This…this was uncharted territory, and she would be damned if she allowed the mistakes of the past to happen again.
But first, she was going to need a few books.
And, perhaps, a Mandrake leaf.