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They watched each other closely. She sat at the Gryffindor table next to his brother and watched him where he sat with the Slytherins. He fascinated her, much to Sirius' disappointment. There was something to be said for the younger Black brother, who ate his meals and lived through his days in perpetual silence. She'd been in 1978 for nearly three months and she'd never heard him say a word.
He watched her too, she knew he did because she'd look up and catch his eye for a brief moment before he turned away. Sometimes he would blush when she caught him, other times he would smirk at her, once he even gave her a genuine smile. She was captivated by him, by his handsome, aristocratic face, and his grey, worry filled eyes. She wondered what it was he was so worried about, she wondered if he'd already taken the mark or if he could still be saved.
Dumbledore had forbidden her from changing the timeline. “We have a guarantee at winning this war, Miss Granger, best not to ruin that,” he said. Hermione agreed, but she still wished she could save Regulus. Regulus who would betray Voldemort in hopes that one day he could be defeated. Regulus who had made all the wrong choices in his life right up until he made the right choice and it killed him.
Looking back on her life Hermione supposed that she hadn't always made the best choices either. Somehow she'd gotten herself so drunk at Harry's eighteenth birthday party that she couldn't even remember how she'd ended up in 1978. She'd appeared in Dumbledore's office with no recollection of how she'd gotten there, been given a de-aging potion – because apparently being nearly nineteen makes you too old to be a student at Hogwarts – and sent off to bed in Gryffindor Tower without so much as a 'don't worry, we'll get you back to 1998 where you belong'.
Hermione spent a lot of time in the library, this wouldn't surprise any of her friends but it seemed to offend Sirius greatly. “You'd rather read books and ogle my brother than spend time with me?” She could practically hear the shattering of his ego. She wasn't just there to watch Regulus, although he spent most of his time there as well, she was there learning everything she could about elemental magic.
She wasn't sure when she'd decided to disregard Dumbledore's order not to change anything, but the idea of knowing Regulus' fate and not being able to do anything about it was far too much for Hermione to fathom. She was Gryffindor, she saved people, that was what she was supposed to do.
It took her a little over a month to have the rings ready, two simple silver bands one enchanted to make it so the wearer would never be thirsty and the other to transport him straight to her if he was ever in a life threatening situation. Now the trick was how to get them to Regulus and to make sure he actually wore them.
She waited for him in an alcove in the dungeons, hidden safely behind a tapestry. As soon as he was close enough, and extremely thankful that he was alone, Hermione reached out and grabbed him by the sleeve, yanking him into the small, hidden space with her.
“What the-” Hermione put her hand over his mouth and shushed him.
“You are going to listen to me very closely, Regulus,” she hissed. “I have a very important question to ask you and I want you to answer me honestly, can you do that?” He nodded. His grey eyes were wide and full of an emotion Hermione couldn't place. “If someone could tell you how you die, if they knew that you were going to die young and tragically, would you want them to tell you?” she asked. She removed her hand from his lips, ignoring the way her fingers still tingled from the contact.
“Is that why you're always watching me?” he asked. The deep timbre of his voice made her heart flutter slightly. It was only then that she realized how close together they were standing, the alcove they were in was not very large and she was pressed tightly against him, their bodies connected from chest to hip in a way that was nearly indecent.
“If I told you how you could be saved would you take my advice?” she asked, avoiding his question. He nodded slowly. She grabbed his right hand and slipped the two rings on his fingers. “The one on your ring finger will make it so that you can never be thirsty not even as a result of a potion or a curse, you'll never need to drink again. The one on your index finger will transport you directly to me if you're ever in a situation where you can't apparate and your life is in danger. All you need to do is touch the ring and say my name and it will bring you to me no matter where you are and no matter where I am.” He reached up with his left hand and gently touched her face.
“How do you know that I'll need them?” he asked. Hermione took a deep breath.
“I just do, please, trust me,” she said, well aware that she was practically begging. “I've also enchanted them so that only I can take them off. I'm sorry, but I had to know that you would wear them, that you would keep them on. I don't want you to die.” Her voice trembled and she felt Regulus brush a tear from her cheek.
“I've been watching you too.” He told her suddenly. She blinked at him in surprise.
“I know,” she breathed. He leaned in, his eyes trained on her lips and Hermione's heart nearly stopped.
“What's going on here?” The tapestry they were hiding behind was ripped away and Hermione turned to see Sirius, Remus, James, and Peter standing in the corridor watching them. Sirius looked nearly murderous. Hermione sighed in frustration.
“We were just having a discussion,” she said, glaring at Sirius.
“Just a little chat Sirius, nothing you need to get your knickers in a twist over,” Regulus smirked at his older brother and Hermione rolled her eyes at the both of them. He leaned in and kissed her cheek before taking off for the Slytherin common room.
“You should stay away from him Hermione,” Sirius said. Hermione sighed and walked away without responding.
Time went on, she and Regulus did not speak again although they still watched each other closely. She graduated with the Marauders, got a job at Flourish and Blotts and rented a small apartment where she spent her nights reading. She thought about Regulus often, hoping beyond hope that what she had done would be enough to save him.
It was late June 1979 when Regulus appeared in her apartment, covered in sweat and blood. She got up from the chair where she'd been reading and hurried to his side.
“How did you know?” he demanded. Hermione sighed and pulled him to his feet. He leaned against her heavily as she helped him into the bathroom and started the shower for him.
“Get cleaned up, I have some clothes for you in the cabinet there” – she pointed at the bathroom counter – “when you're done with your shower we'll talk,” she promised before leaving the room.
She went to the kitchen, made tea, pulled her favorite biscuits out of their hiding place, thankful that Remus hadn't managed to sniff them out the last time he'd visited. She sat at the kitchen table and waited. Regulus, it turned out, took a long time in the shower, so long that Hermione was beginning to wonder if he'd drowned when he finally appeared.
“How did you know what sizes?” he asked. She smiled at him, he looked good in muggle clothes, the jeans and concert tee she'd bought him complimented his physique very nicely.
“I have a lot of guy friends, I learned guessing sizes comes in handy when buying Christmas and birthday gifts,” she told him honestly. He sat down at the table across from her.
“Are you going to tell me how you knew?” he asked. Hermione bit her lip, contemplating how to answer that question.
“Did you ever find it odd that I started school at Hogwarts in the middle of my final year with no explanation of where I came from?” she asked. He frowned.
“Yes, that's why I watched you at first,” he answered. She smiled.
“At first?” she teased. His cheeks turned pink.
“At first,” he agreed. “After I got over the initial curiosity I realized that you were very pretty and that you were always watching me as well.” It was Hermione's turn to blush.
“I was born September nineteenth 1979,” she told him softly. “I was at a friend's birthday party and I got very drunk and somehow managed to travel twenty years into the past.” She watched him for his reaction and was almost disappointed when he just stared at her, unshaken, no hint of emotion on his face. “Dumbledore asked me not to change anything but I knew your death was,” she took a deep breath, “it was too sad. Too tragic, I couldn't stand it. I found myself watching you and I didn't even know I was doing it at first but I just kept thinking that if I could save any of them it would be you.”
“Them?” he asked. Hermione sighed.
“The Potters die about two years from now. Sirius goes to Azkaban for twelve years before he finally manages to escape but he dies in 1996, Bellatrix kills him. Remus died in the final battle in 1998.” She stopped talking, she shouldn't tell him any of this. “You were so young when you died, When we discovered the truth about what you had sacrificed I was the same age as you were when you'd made your decision to do the right thing and at the time I was being hunted. I was the second most wanted person in Wizarding Britain, I'm a muggle-born and at the time Voldemort was in control of the ministry and there was this thing called the Muggle-Born Registration Committee. They would put muggle-borns on trial for stealing magic and then send them to Azkaban or give them the Kiss. I didn't register. I was friends with the Undesirable Number One. I was afraid that I wasn't going to live to see the end of the war.” She hadn't seen him move, so when Regulus was suddenly crouching on the floor directly in front of her chair she gave a little squeak of surprise. He smiled at the sound.
“You traveled across time to save me,” he whispered. His eyes were endless pools of liquid silver and she didn't know how she was supposed to respond because in a way he was right but at the same time she wasn't exactly sure that was what she had set out to do. She frowned and tried to form a coherent sentence but then Regulus' lips were on hers and she forgot what she had wanted to say.
He tasted like cinnamon and magic and she was lost in the sensation of rightness that surged through her as she threaded her fingers through his hair.
“Uh, Hermione?” They broke apart and Hermione looked up, surprised to see Harry and Ron standing over them. “Who is that?” She blinked at them and looked around the room. She was in Grimmauld Place, and it looked exactly like it had when she'd left it. The Weasley's were all there, staring at her and Regulus in disbelief. It was 1998, the same night that she had left and Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were both giggling like prepubescent schoolgirls in the corner.
“What happened?” she asked uncertainly.
“Lavender made up some spell that's supposed to transport you to your soul mate and then transport you back once you kiss them,” Ron said hesitantly. “She used it on you, you've been gone for nearly an hour.” Hermione and Regulus looked at each other and burst into laughter.
“You're saying that Lavender created a spell that sent me back in time so that I could make out with Regulus?” she asked. The entire room went deathly quiet.
“Regulus?” Harry asked. Regulus climbed to his feet.
“Regulus Black,” he introduced himself, holding his hand out to Harry to shake.
“Harry Potter.” Harry shook his hand but was still staring at him as if he'd grown three heads.
Hermione laughed. “Well, my life is never boring now is it?” she asked, trying to break the tension. Ron stared at her incredulously.
“Your soul mate is Regulus Black?” he squeaked. Regulus grinned.
“Sounds good to me,” he said, taking Hermione's hand and pulling her to her feet. “Who is Lavender and how can I thank her for giving me the best gift ever?”