Hello all. No, I have not vanished off the face of the earth. Here is another story for the repertoire. Thank you all for your devoted reading. This story is dedicated to Sarapha for your faith in my writing. I hope you all enjoy this.
Hermione sighs. It had been two years to the day that the incident at Malfoy Manor had occurred. Two years to the day that the scar scar had been carved there. Cursed woman.
Sipping at her now cold tea, she sets aside her book. The library in the Noble House of Black had been particularly dreary on this day. Even with the fire in the hearth it was still dreadfully cold. A faint smile graces her lips as her mind drifts to a distant memory.
Sirius had been pacing the worn carpet in front of the hearth for hours now. Hermione watched as each hour passed without change in the gentleman's countenance. 'He looks like a caged animal ready to pounce,' she thought. Her mind wonders briefly if he was aware of her presence.
"What did that carpet ever do to you, Mr. Black?" she asked suddenly. Sirius was startled out of his reverie. He looked down and the joke registered across his features. He smiled slightly.
"Apparently," he started, "My anger and anxiety are misguided, Miss Granger."
Hermione shook her head. "You shouldn't force yourself to smile Sirius." She sat on the sofa in front of the hearth.
She watched Sirius as his brow furrowed. He sat beside her on the sofa. He looked to the young woman not yet sixteen. A something flickered across his face as though he recognized something from what he saw.
"Not sure what you mean, Mia," he replied turning his gaze to her hair where it was pinned behind her ear with a clip, mouth, anywhere but her eyes.
The pet name was new to her and did not go by unnoticed. She smiled slightly. She sighed at his avoidance and shifted her gaze to the fire. The crackling was the only noise to break their silence. She still felt his gaze on her face. "Your eyes don't light up."
Sirius turned to face the fire. "Nothing gets by the brightest witch of her age, does it?"
She smiled brightly at the compliment. "What's got Siri down?" She returns his pet name with one of her own.
Sirius sighed and leaned back into the cushions of the sofa. Hermione's gaze drifted to his. "I'm worried about Harry," he replied finally. "He's withdrawn and I haven't been able to talk to him without Molly on my hackles. She doesn't want me to … say too much." He rubbed his temples and let out a frustrated sigh.
"Anything you want me to tell him?" she asked. The mischievous glare to her tone is apparent.
She watched his eyes as the idea sank into his mind. A look passed through his eyes, a spark of his past self, before Azkaban. Before Hell. A mischievous hint gleamed in his sobre grey eyes. He smiled just then.
"For now, just tell him that it's hard to talk. If he needs anything, I will always be here." Sirius sighed.
"Sirius … Harry loves you. He knows, but, I'll pass it along." Hermione laid her hand over his gently. "I think that this place could use some more of that Sirius Black smile and charm." Hermione stood and retreated to the door. She reached for the knob but turned back to Sirius. With a final shake of her head and smile, she left the room determined to figure something out.
And figure it out she did. She had convinced Remus Lupin to cast the spellwork on two pieces of parchment. He had been happy to do so convinced Molly Weasley was being ridiculous in keeping Harry and Sirius apart.
The spell enchanted the parchment to reflect what the writer had put on one piece to its sister and was charmed to disappear upon being replied to. Godfather and Godson were ecstatic. Both had tremendous changes in their demeanors for the remainder of the summer holiday.
A knock on the door pulls Hermione from her memories. She turns to see Harry walking through the library doorway.
"There you are," he says with relief in his voice. " How're you holding up today?" He seats himself next to her.
Hermione tucks her knees to her chin, a glimmer of pain shoots up her arm. She smiles to Harry, yet it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "It's just another day…"
Harry nods. He knows. "What're you thinking about up here?"
"The summer holiday before fifth year," She replies. "I miss him."
"I miss him, too," Harry whispers. "I don't think I ever thanked you for that parchment set. That was probably the best birthday gift I've ever received."
"He was so worried about you," she adds. "I was too."
"I wish I could see him again," Harry sighs. "Even if it were just his ghost."
Hermione nods. "I know." The tug in her heart hurts and mirrors in her features.
"You had a crush on him," Harry ventures.
Hermione takes a deep breath. "It was just a crush, Harry." When Harry nods, she adds, "I'm okay. Really."
"Thanks, Hermione," Harry says while pulling her into a hug. "For everything you're done for me and what you've put up with over the years. I love you." He stands and leaves the library.
Hermione turns and watches the door shut behind him. Her mind drifts to the last happy memory she has of Sirius Black.
Hermione sat on the fourth floor landing in the window seat that had the best view of the unyielding snow storm that was occurring outside. Her eyelids were heavy from the lack of sleep. Her mind drifted with the storm outside. She leaned her head against the glass pane and her eyes closed of their own accord.
She was startled out of her sleep when she felt something soft beneath her legs and back. She fought to open her eyes. They cracked open to see Sirius as he pulled off her trainers and had moved to pull the blanket over her. He stopped when he saw her watching him.
"You haven't been sleeping, Miss Granger," he stated. He finished pulling the blanket up her body and sat next to her.
Hermione rolled onto her side and shrugged at his observation. "Sleep is an elusive thing," she whispered as she smoothed the wrinkles in her blanket. When a hand stayed hers, she was forced to turn her attention to the man next to her.
"You're too pretty to have worry lines," He touched her face and winked at her. A tired giggle escaped her.
"I'm okay, Siri," She said. "Promise."
"You're a horrible liar," He replied. "Harry's told me about what you've started. Dumbledore's Army? Protean Charms? Patronuses? That's an awful load you carry, Mia."
"Harry's rather humble. He does most of the work," she shrugged off his concern.
He shook his head. "Get some rest, Mia. Tomorrow's Christmas."
"The box on my bureau… I picked it up for you…" she murmured. "Happy Christmas, Siri."
He pointed to a box wrapped in deep blue paper with a silver ribbon tied around it. She nodded. He picked it up and unraveled the ribbon and pulled at the paper. He lifted the lid off the box and nestled in the box was a compass. To the north where an 'N' would have been was a black dog. To the south was a wolf. To the west was a stag and to the east a doe.
Sirius looked at the golden orb in awe. He was familiar with compasses and he gathered a hidden message from the intelligent with. "Mia, I can't —"
"Siri, please," she mutters, almost asleep. "Just smile and accept it to remind you that they are always with you. To always find yourself."
Sirius smiled that smile she'd seen more in that month than in the time she had known the man in front of her. He placed the lid back on the box, tucked it away in his pocket, cupped her cheeks and placed a kiss to her forehead. "Thank you, Mia."
She made a noise of acceptance as her eyes drifted shut.
Hermione shakes her head to fend off the wayward tears. She stands and begins browsing the library. She heads towards the back of the library all the while running her finger over the spines before pausing on a peculiar titled book — Death Unravelled: The Veil of Truth.
She pulls the tome from its resting place and opens it to the index. Her eyes fall to a familiar phrase: The Department of Mysteries, p. 156. Hermione frantically flips to the that triggers a spark of hope. "Just maybe…"
"For centuries, the Unspeakables have protected the secrets of the Ministry of Magic. But only one secret has been committed to writing. The Death Room has only held one item: the ever whispering Veil, a stone archway that sits atop a sacrificial dais. Those who have been lost to the Veil can be heard whispering to their loved ones. Death has its grips so tightly wrapped on the claimed souls. But, there is one reported case of a soul returning. The soulmate of a young gentleman who had been born a peasant was a young woman who was the daughter of a wealthy politician. The young man was put to death — pushed through the Veil as the young woman was forced to watch.
"The tale goes that the young woman trekked the trail from her home to the Veil that sat in the town square. A witness reported that nearing the fourth anniversary of his death, they watched as a ghostly hand reached out from the Veil and the woman seemed to pull her soulmate from the depths of the Veil.
"Although merely legend, the idea that true love can conquer the act of murder by this magical object seems to plant the seed of doubt. No other reported cases have been found. The Veil was taken out of use in the eighteenth century."
Hermione's brow furrows as her mind runs a hundred miles at once. She would have to follow up with Kingsley in the morning. With a stretch and a yawn, she heads to her room book still in hand.
Hermione jumps as the sunlight hits her face. The dreams she had been having were about the gentleman that owned the house she currently resided sighs and shakes her head. Control yourself! You aren't a school girl anymore.
Rolling out of bed, she grabs a piece of parchment and the quill from her ink well.
Kingsley—
I write to you in regards to a very Sirius family matter. Could you please send word once you have a spare moment. I believe I found something interesting. Speak to No One.
Much love,
Hermione.
Hermione takes her wand and banishes the letter to the Minister's desk. THe young woman heads to her bathroom to get ready for her day.
A few hours and several cups of coffee later finds Hermione reading Kingsley's respone:
Hermione—
My schedule has been cleared for the afternoon. Come to the Ministry around two and we will chat about this family matter.
Much love in return,
Kingsley.
Hermione smiles at his fatherly affection. He had escorted her to Australia to find her parents. She had needed a second person to perform the locating spell. The Minister had witnessed the young witch breakdown when the spell had brought them to a small cemetery. Kingsley had found out later for the young woman, that her parents had been killed in an automobile accident.
Harry was the only other person that knew what happened to her parents. Kingsley made sure that the young witch and wizard were taken care of. The first thing that Kingsley did as Minister was clear Sirius Orion Black of all charges as a mass murderer and traitor.
Hermione pulls her hair back into a twist and sticks her wand through it. She grabs the book and turns on the spot, apperating to an alleyway just off the entrance to the Ministry building.
She rushes to the phone booth and pushes a galleon through the slot. The lift shutters to life and soon, Hermione finds herself in the lobby of the Ministry of Magic. She rushes to the information desk to grab her permanent visitor's pass.
Sarah smiles as Hermione approaches. "Hello Hermione! How're you doing dear?" the secretary greets as she hands Hermione her badge.
"Doing well. Thank you, Sarah. How are the boys?" Hermione attaches the badge to her sweater.
"Jordan received his first Hogwarts letter!" Sarah replies excitedly. "And, Cameron is doing better. Thank you again for suggesting that daycare. Padma and Parvati are wonderful."
Hermione smiles and walks off to the next available lift. She scans her badge and hand and the lift opens. She steps in and hits the button for Kingsley's office.
Once the lift opens, she steps off and offers a smile to Bridget, the Undersecretary to the Minister. Bridget winks to the young woman and nods towards the door before going back to her work.
Hermione knocks and opens the door. Kingsley is seated behind the his desk. He looks up and a smile graces his bright face. "Hermione—" He stands and steps around his desk and wraps her in a tight hug. She returns it fervently.
He motions for the sofa near the window. She smiles and sits placing the book in her lap. Kingsley sits next to her. "My dear, what brings you here?"
"Sirius Black," she says lightly.
Kingsley sighs heavily. "Hermione—"
"Hear me out," Hermione replies gripping the book tightly. "It's a thought… It happened upon me while I was in the library."
Kingsley nods and allows her to compose her thoughts. "Please continue."
"I found probably the only book in existence on the Veil that sits in the Department of Mysteries in the Death Chamber." she says finally.
"Not one shred of evidence has ever been found on the existence of that cursed thing," Kingsley's curiosity is piqued.
"Well," she begins. "Leave it to a very old family to keep it from the world. The only thing is… It's a scary thing. It's even older magic that will bring Sirius back. The only reported case is a legend. A peasant was sentenced to death for mixing classes. His soulmate pulled him from the depths of death almost four years after he was pushed through the Veil."
Kingsley closes his eyes and nods. "It does sound more like a legend. Who wrote this book?"
"Seventh generation granddaughter of the woman that pulled her lover out of Death's Grip," Hermione says. "Not sure if this will work… I came here half-loaded with no ammunition."
Kingsley's boisterous laugh rings throughout the office at her loaded statement. "Would you happen to know any of Sirius' soulmates?" Hermione sits in silence.
"And that's where I came half-loaded without the ammunition," Hermione says eventually.
Sadly. no. I didn't quite figure that out."
"I wasn't blind, Hermione," Kingsley says suddenly. At Hermione's startled look, he continues. "I saw the way you two looked at one another. Everyone did."
"He was more than twenty years my senior," Hermione says feebly, her voice and wit suddenly leave her."He was an adult. I was a teenager. We didn't even know each other…"
Kingsley smiles slightly. "No one chooses who they love. Fate, Destiny, they hold you in high regard. They see something maybe you and he didn't. You were young, yes. But, that does not mean you were incapable of feeling."
"I need clearance to the Department of Mysteries," Hermione states boldly. "I need it immediately."
Kingsley nods knowingly. He stands and proceeds to his desk. He dips his quill into his inkwell and scribbles a note across a piece of parchment and banishes it with a flick of his wand. "By the time you get to the Department, your clearance will be expanded."
Hermione sets the book on the sofa. "Thank you," She hugs him and heads to the door.
Kingsley smiles at her eagerness knowing that look that is in her eyes. "Follow your heart." He watches her leave.
Hermione finds herself staring at the door that leads to the Death Chamber. She sighs and looks to the Unspeakables that flank her sides. Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini had both been neutral during the Second Wizarding War and Kingsley made sure that the men had full pardon of the prejudices that seemed to plague the society against the Death Eaters, those loyal to Death Eaters, and those who had no choice in their parentage and their parent's choices. They were made an example of and Hermione held a soft spot for the Unspeakables next to her. They managed to slip from the expectation of Voldemort, something that was not easy in the desperate times they had grown up in.
Blaise nods to Hermione and taps the door in front of her with his wand. It clicks open and Hermione takes a deep breath. She steps forward and the sudden whoosh deafens her as she falls through the deep cavern. Her breath catches as the air stops and her body hovers over the floor. She steps out of the air and stares at the Veil.
"Mia," a whisper catches her attention as though that voice had been calling her for a long time.
Hermione's gaze averts to the ghostly grey hand that slips past the frail and thin material framing the archway. Hermione feels a pull to the hand. She steps up to the dais. She lifts a hand to the ghostly apparition expecting her fingers to slide through his hand and wrist. She is startled when his fingers wrap around her wrist.
Suddenly, his hand has weight; it's a solid object against the skin of her hand and wrist. His hand begins to gain color. Hermione's fingers wrap around his wrist and pulls him through the Veil. His body appears to take shape, a darker shadow against the shadows of the Veil.
Hermione's eyes rake over his frame from head to toe. Sirius looks well rested as though he has been asleep for the past four years. Although the pain is in his eyes remains, the scarring from his time in Azkaban is gone.
"Siri," her voice shakes.
Sirius' eyes focus on Hermione's. His hands cup her face as though to assure himself she were real. "You're real," He says. She nods as tears gather in her eyes. "Mia. I… you… How?"
Hermione shakes her head. "Sir, let's get you home."
Sirius nods. Suddenly, Blaise and Theodore flank her sides again. As though they are in a dream, they are suddenly in the Atrium. Kingsley accompanies them to Grimmauld Place.
Harry is sitting in the receiving room and stands suddenly white as a ghost. He looks at Sirius as tears fall silently down his cheeks.
Hermione smiles meekly as both men embrace each other. She hugs Kingsley with a small thank you and excuses herself to the fourth floor landing. She sits down on the window seat, pulling her knees to her chest. She leans her head against the glass and closes her eyes.
When Hermione wakes, its hours later and the sky is a dull pink as the sun tries to peak up from the horizon. She stretches her arms high above her head and heaves a sigh wondering if it had all been a dream, that she had imagined the whole thing. She stands and heads to her room unaware of the silvery gaze following her from the shadows. Hermione opens her door and heads straight to her bureau. She grabs the navy box and removes the lid. She observes the golden orb before shaking her head.
Replacing the lid, she places the box back on her bureau and heads to the kitchen for a much needed cup of coffee. She gets to the kitchen and turns on the coffee pot with a flick of her wand. Placing a cup on the counter she waits for the pot to filter the coffee through. She suddenly feels as though she is being watched. The sensation creeps up her neck. She turns to see the object of her affection and thoughts staring at her.
"Mia," he says with a soft voice.
"Hello Siri" she replies. "Did you sleep well?"
Sirius shrugs. "Well enough. Do you make it a habit to sleep on the fourth floor landing?"
Hermione pours herself a cup of coffee and grabs another mug for Sirius. She sets the cups down the worn table and seats herself on one of the chairs. "I don't mean to, no."
Sirius sits next to the brunette witch. "Harry explained what I have missed."
She nods. "Kingsley has done the best he can with what he has. We have been well cared for. And, your charges were dropped immediately."
"Harry explained that Dumbledore and Snape were planning from the beginning. And, that I have been… Dead for almost four years," he replies.
Again, all she can do is nod. She pulls on her sweater sleeves down further. "We have been through a lot. All of us. We lost a lot of friends. Good people."
"Do not act unscathed," Sirius snaps.
Hermione's brow furrows. "Siri, I'm not."
"Harry explained everything, How you were tortured in Malfoy Manor," he spits. "Bellatrix and her insanity. She was crazed when Voldemort first came to power… He said she used a cursed dagger to…"
He reaches forward and pulls at her sleeves. Hermione shies away but his grasp is firm and allows him to pull up her sleeve. The scar is still an angry red as though it had just stopped bleeding. He runs his fingers over the angry lettering.
"Mia," his voice is raspy.
Hermione's tears are spilling over the rims of her eyes. She shakes her head trying to clear them and her thoughts. Hands cup her face forcing Hermione to look Sirius in the eyes. He runs his thumbs under her eyes to wipe away her tears. And suddenly, she presses forward connecting their lips.
Sirius responds immediately lips moving with Hermione's. He keeps her face close with his hands. Hermione places her hands over his. The sensation of his lips on hers felt natural, as though it wasn't the first time she has kissed him. Their lips mold together in a blur of heat and controlled bliss. After a few moments, Hermione pushes against his hands. Their lips separate by mere centimeters. His breath is hot on her face.
"I'm sorry," Hermione whispers. "I don't know what came over me."
Sirius kisses her forehead, her nose, and places a light kiss on her lips. "Mia," her name is a breath off his lips. "I have waited years to be able to kiss you. It did not escape me how one of a kind you truly were when you thought of the parchment for me and Harry, let alone how beautiful you are. I love you. I always have."
As always, I love to hear what y'all think. Thank you for your patience.
~Kaleigh