Impossible Beloved by Litfic_Writer

Chapter 1

May 2nd 1998

His mind worked so fast his scribbling hand could barely keep up. The mathematics of it was mindboggling, for the first time ever Severus Snape almost wished that Remus Lupin could be called in to help. The self-pitying werewolf might not know his hazelwort from his witchraven root but he could have juggled these figures in his head before breakfast.

He'd read all the warnings. Terrible things happened to wizards who messed with time, but looking out at the hoard of giants and dark wizards closing in on the Hogwarts grounds only hardened his resolve. Things could only get worse from here. Nothing he could do in the past was going to make things any more horrific then they were right now.

There was no escape and no way out. And it was as much his fault as anyone else. Maybe more so…

:.:..:.:..:.:

1st January 1981

Sirius Black let out an almighty groan and rolled out of bed, naked onto the cold wooden floor. He was on his feet awake then barely conscious again as he stumbled and bumped his way into the toilet. Pain pulsed through his head like a primitive drum while he peed for what felt like hours.

Bloody hell, I must have drunk the Leaky dry last night.

Tentatively he let his memories in, one at a time not wanting any more pain then was already ripping behind his eyes. Leaning his head against the cistern he remembered going out with James and Remus and Pete. He remembered a New Years party, and walking in on Pete and some black-haired bird. It looked like she was giving him head. Sirius grinned. Go Pete.

He finally finished peeing, shook and stumbled over to the sink to wash his hands. After the party James had left to meet up with Lily somewhere. Apparently they'd had plans of their own for ringing in the New Year. With a snigger Sirius splashed water on his face and almost cried out, the shock of cold water made his brain feel like it might explode.

He looked into the mirror and remembered roaming off into London with Remus. Stumbling in and out of parties the rest of the night was a blur. Somewhere in there Remus had hooked up with some cute blonde bird leaving Sirius to his own devices. Last thing he remembered he was in the Leaky Cauldron drinking his weight in vodka with some leggy red-head.

He opened the mirror cabinet to find some headache tablets. Sirius had learned the hard way that he and magic did not mix when hungover. He frowned at the contents of the cabinet. Lipstick, nail polish, face cream, tampons… This was not his bathroom.

But there were headache tablets. That was a plus.

He swallowed four with a few handfuls of water then crept silently back into the bedroom. Holy fucking shit. The woman on the bed was beyond shaggable. Laying on her stomach the black silk sheet covered her arse but one long shapely leg bent enticingly. Her face was shrouded in a mop of red hair and resting on her folded arms leaving the long perfect line of her back, the delectable swell of tit barely concealed under her body.

The easiest thing in the world would be to crawl back into that bed, may be even wake her up for some slow morning sex. His whole body warmed up with arousal at the thought of an intense, slow-building morning-sex orgasm. But morning sex meant expectations of calls and dates and dating and girlfriends. And Sirius Black was not ready for that, no matter how silky her skin looked.

He picked up his pants, shirt and keys and tiptoed out. He took one last peak at her sleeping form, groaned and closed the door with a soft click.

:.:..:.:..:.:

May 2nd 1998

Hermione pressed her back hard against the stone wall, one hand tightly covering her mouth and nose to prevent even the slightest sound. Silent tears streaked her ash and grime stained face. Harry was dead. The vision shot before her eyes again of the lifeless body of her oldest friend, Hagrid crying so loud it shook the castle walls.

Now she was alone. She remembered running, running so fast through halls once familiar now smoke-filled labyrinth paths. Afraid to stop, afraid to look, the sound of Fenrir's growls and heavy footfalls close on her heels.

How many sets of stairs had she run down? How many passages.

"I can smell you." A low growl sounded close. Too close. "Under the smoke and the death, you're scent calls to me."

She pressed her lips together and shut her eyes. If he knew where she was he would have her by now. She was pressed against an alcove wall, in the shadow and smoke, invisible she hoped.

Heavy steps passed her by. Stopped. Sniffing. Growling. Fenrir was going to find her. He was going to kill her and eat her and worse. Just ahead she could see a set of stairs leading down further to Professor Snape's dungeon. She was pretty sure she could bolt that door from the inside. Of course she would be trapped in a burning castle.

Belatrix words danced through her mind. Such a soft sweet voice, so full of poison as she spoke into Hermione's ear just before she passed out. "If you could choose the manner of your death…" The woman had been speaking in half thoughts between demands for answers.

I would die slow in my burning home before I let you touch me. The thought was so clear in Hermione's mind.

Fenrir turned and walked past her again, sniffing and growling. He came so close this time she could have reached out and touched him. She waited and counted ten steps away before he stopped. Now or never.

Hermione shoved herself away from the wall and bolted for the stairs. A roar from behind her just made her feet run faster. Running sliding down the stairs she shoved the big old door open, fell into the dungeon and swung around to slammed the door on the fast approaching werewolf. As he hit the door the bolt slid into place.

Her ragged breaths came in gasps and pants and a hysterical bubble of laughter shook her chest.

Something heavy bashed against the door making the heavy wood crack and the whole room seemed to shake. She wouldn't have long. Turning her eyes darted about the cramped little office-come-dungeon used by Professor Snape.

An ingredients room was to the left a wall of bookshelves to the right, a wide desk filled most of the room. Nowhere to hide. Damn the idea had made more sense before hadn't it? Another room-shaking crash made the door buckle inwards.

Hermione screamed between the hands flying to her mouth. "No!" She let the word roar from her lips. "You will not kill me! Not you. Not YOU!" The last part she screamed so loud her throat hurt.

She ran to the desk. If she was going to die it would be on her terms. Harry was already dead, Ron might be too. There was nothing left for her here and no way out. This was the last and only moment of control she would ever have.

She pulled out draws looking for something sharp or something poison when she noticed what was actually on top of the desk. She'd been so busy looking for a way out she hadn't noticed what Professor Snape had actually been working on.

She picked up what looked like a necklace. It was hard to make out what it was in the smoky gloom but it looked like a - a Timeturner. Oh sweet heavens! As she watched the tiny charm on the long chain spin it started to glow, brighter, brighter till it suddenly stopped spinning with dainty little !ping!.

Fenrir crashed against the door and with a force of sound and broken wood the werewolf smashed through.

The last thing Hermione heard was his enraged roar as she disappeared.

:.:..:.:..:.:

1st January 1981

Sirius finished buttoning his shirt and pants and buckled his belt as he jogged the last few steps down to ground floor of the apartment block Vivian lived in (He was almost seventy percent sure that was her name). Out on the street he held out his wand and jumped back when the Knight Bus pulled up in front of him with a POP and a WHOOSH.

The doors folded open and Frankie's blond head and wide toothy grin greeted him. "Morning, Mr Black." His eyes twinkled mischievously. "I trust you had an eventful and satisfying New Year's Eve?"

"Morning Frankie," Sirius yawned.

"Off home then?"

Sirius nodded and handed Frankie a small pile of coins he was sure would more then cover the trip and Frankie's tight lip. They had this arrangement going for some time now. He grabbed a coffee from the trolley and fell into a seat near the back.

:.:..:.:..:.:

When the blur cleared Hermione stood in the same dungeon only the smoke had cleared and she was now being rapidly blinked at by Professor Slughorn.

"Hello my dear," he said as though it was not at all strange to have someone pop out of thin air in his office. "I don't believe we've met. You do know that you're not supposed to be using your timeturner outside of school sessions."

"Um…" Hermione took a breath. "I'm so sorry Professor Slughorn. I was just practising. I'm always so scared that I'm going to make a mistake and miss something important."

He nodded understanding. "Indeed." With a touch to the side of his nose he gave her a wink. "Just don't go getting caught by Headmaster Dumbledore. He never did approve of the things."

"I won't," Hermione replied heading quickly for the door. "I think I have it under control now. Thank you for understanding. I'm sorry I disturbed you." All this was said quickly as she opened the door and dashed out.

Outside the dungeon she quickly ascended the stairs and made her way through the hallways. It looked like she'd been taken back to just before the war. An excited little giggle ticked her throat and nose. If she could just get out of here unseen she could warn Harry of what was to come. She could save him. Maybe even save Dumbledore!

Was it possible that Severus had been planning to do just that? Why would he leave the Timeturner just set like that? Where did he go? Maybe he'd been killed before he could return to use it… But she shook those thoughts away. None of it mattered any more. This was a second chance, like back in Third Year when she and Harry had saved Sirius and Buckbeak.

Her head buzzed with excitement. Voices came close and she ducked out of sight just in time as three girls laughed and chatted happily as they passed by. One dropped her copy of The Daily Prophet on a little side table and continued on.

Hermione flicked out her hand and snatched the newspaper.

Hopes High for the New Year

The headline wasn't so shocking, the Prophet was notorious for glossing over or overdramatizing the truth. But the date at the top was less comforting.

Her fingers went numb and the paper fell with a thump to the floor. It was 1981.

Lucky for her most of the students and teachers were on holidays so she easily sneaked, dodged, weaved and ran as fast as she could out of the grounds, grabbed her wand and held it out as she reached the dirt road. With a !POP! the Knight Bus pulled up sharply in front of her and a stranger poked out his head.

"'Ello there, Beautiful. I'm Frankie, you want the Knight Bus?"

"Yes please," she said and pulled out a handful of coins. "Can you just get me out of here?"

"That's what we do, Miss," he replied with a bow. He was taller than Stan and his blond hair was neatly brushed if a little bit shaggy. "Oi! Just a moment." He called out just as she was heading towards a bed.

She spun around and looked at him like a rabbit in the headlights. After so long on the run and hiding and fighting she had her wand ready and the fight or flee was pumping fiercely through her veins.

He looked at her through narrowed eyes. "You wouldn't be runnin' away from school now would ye?"

She almost laughed out loud. Shaking her head she said, "No."

"Good enough for me," he replied and turned away to pull the door closed. "Alright Ernie, let's go."

Hermione fell onto a seat across the aisle from a ragged-looking wizard with long black hair. He looked sort of familiar but she was too exhausted to care.

"Bloody hell, love," the guy said looking her up and down in a sort of horrified curiosity. "I thought I partied hard. Looks like you burned the whole house down."

She laughed so suddenly it came out louder than expected and she slapped a hand over her mouth. "You'd never believe me."

"You'd be surprised." He handed her a coffee. "I'm Sirius Black."

Another laugh bubbled with a note of hysteria so she quickly took a long sip of coffee the hot burn squelching the laugh. "Hermione Granger," she mumbled on autopilot afraid to look at him.

"To surviving till the next New Year's Eve party," Sirius said holding out his mug.

"To a second chances," Hermione toasted and clicked her mug to his, then as an afterthought, "and to never forgetting that an angry werewolf can crash through any door."

"Yeah…" he replied thinking about that. He looked at her suddenly and said, "Hey do you want to get some breakfast? My mate's wife makes the best morning after breakfast in the world."

Her stomach growled eagerly. Hermione couldn't remember the last thing she ate. "Sure."

Her eyes grew heavy. Out of danger her whole body seemed to be shutting down. The coffee she'd been holding left her fingers and her seat tipped back and something soft settled under her head.

The girl was dead-to-the-world, Sirius had never seen anyone so exhausted. He smiled down at the strange girl as she snored obnoxiously on the makeshift bed. A wild mess of curls fell around her face. Pink lips, flushed cheeks, long lashes fluttering in her sleep. She was cute in a weird, ash covered kind of way.

"You know 'er then?" Frankie nodded towards the sleeping girl.

Sirius shook his head. "Nah. I don't think I should leave her alone though."

"She does seem kind of lost."