Summary: Sirius' hold was tedious and thin. His every move calculated and rehearsed and she knew that he was playing a part. EWE.

A Sirius returns from the veil fic.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling.

Betaed by the lovely TheUnrealInsomniac

Gossamer

Prologue: Selcouth

He was young.

Much younger than she remembered him being and that only enhanced her belief that this couldn't be real. It wasn't possible.

Hermione was in free fall- reeling. Rooted to the moment and drifting all at once as a strange energy ran through her. Dark eyes moved over the prone body, her vision blurring as her knees threatened to buckle.

Mouth agape and eyes watering, she turned to Harry, who reflected her shock.

She took in a shuddering breath, trying desperately to think and understand what she was seeing. Lungs compromised, they burned with her every inhale.

Harry still hadn't moved. Her friend was frozen, trapped in the illusion before them. His green eyes wide, focused and unmoving.

'Sirius?' he whispered, tone broken and disbelieving.

She licked her dry lips as Sirius' name echoed in and around her, bouncing off the barren walls and chilling her bones.

It was an odd thought to have then, but it came nonetheless- the walls were too white. Everything was too white. The walls, the bed, the sheets, even the curtain- the curtain. The room spun around her and her throat locked. The ache in her chest beginning to burn. Hermione blinked and the rapid movement enhanced the coldness of the room, broken only by the sudden shock of pitch black hair spread out across the sterile pillow. It was so dark, the hair. A dull reflection in the strands that drew her eyes. She pressed her lips together and frowned as fear and anxiety threatened to overrule all reason. Hermione swallowed thickly and before she could think on it, she looked.

Sirius was pale.

Sirius was pale.

His skin bordered on translucent and there was a hollowness to his cheeks that his beard couldn't hide. His chest rose and fell with a steady rhythm that mocked her.

He looked so young... and (dead) peaceful.

'Sirius,' Harry called again, his voice stronger. Raw emotion beginning to seep through as he took tentative steps forward. An urgency vibrating through him as he moved closer to the bed.

His gaze running the length of the body, lingering on resting hands before moving to her, causing her heart to stutter. She recognised that look. It was a silent plea- a request for answers and validation.

She wanted to tell him that she'd searched for answers in the summer of fifth year. That she'd tried and failed to bring him back from an archway that didn't exist. There was no record of it and after she'd written to Professor Dumbledore about it, he'd replied in kind. There was nothing and the only ones who knew of it, couldn't speak of it.

Hermione almost told him to stop- that she didn't know what to do, not this time. That she was just as lost as him. That nothing she did could help with this. Instead, she moved beside him, her eyes wide and unblinking. Heart thundering away in her chest, threatening to give out.

Harry lifted a hand and she reacted, grasping his wrist. 'Don't.'

'His arms.'

His arms. Scarred with lines, each one older than the next and Kingsley's words rang through her head: they experimented on him. Except the Unspeakables hadn't used that word. No. They had studied him for a month. Stopped only because they'd been discovered.

She was shaking, or perhaps it was Harry's own movements she was feeling but the chill that ran down her spine was all her own. She stared up at Harry, trying and failing to will the haunted look away.

'He's alive,' she muttered, not quite believing the words.

They were empty, placating things. Forced out of her and still, she wanted them to be true.

Kingsley said that it was him. That tests done proved that it was but... it wasn't possible. Hermione blinked and swallowed thickly, fighting the instinct to dissect and judge the scene for what it was, her mind refusing to acknowledge that which her eyes were seeing with perfect clarity.

No magic could raise the dead. And Sirius Black had died three years before, at the age of thirty-six. Heavily tattooed and with tired, wild eyes that had longed for a life that would never come to be. Now he looked to be about their age and had unmarked skin.

Kingsley had no answers to give and Harry had lost focus after several minutes, too busy demanding to be taken to him, to see Sirius now.

Hermione didn't understand and the longer she studied Sirius' face, the more anxious she became. The harsh starkness of the room and the rise of his moving chest hypnotised and frightened her. Making her feel out of control and in a trance, caught unaware by a wave of ignorance that she couldn't begin to fight.

The war had just ended. They had lost so many in one day and now, a month after the war, this. A life cut short, returned.

'He's alive,' she breathed out.

She needed to know how- and why. Especially now, how was it that he'd come back, after all these years. Unspeakables had found him the days after the Final Battle, unconscious and unresponsive. A month on and he still hadn't woken up. That alone was odd but the timing of it- she turned to Harry, unknown words on the tip of her tongue dying at the sight of her best friend.

He was smiling. Green eyes lit from within and her eyes blurred with tears in response. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him smile like that. It recalled memories of the Hogwarts grounds and those rare moments of uninterrupted childhood.

Hermione smiled with him- it was a watery thing, but it eased the tension coursing through her. She didn't fully believe, but she wanted to. Though her body clenched when Harry reached out to touch Sirius' hand, she didn't stop him.

The reaction was immediate. There was a spark, a delicate flash of light that spanned the length of a heartbeat. Hermione frowned, sure that she'd been mistaken when she noticed Sirius' skin begin to dimple, followed by a soft groan and a twitch of his brow. She gasped, dark eyes shooting to Harry, who had frozen. His smile gone, replaced by shocked eyes and parted lips. She thought she'd imagined it, but Harry's reactions were too telling- Sirius had moved.

Harry didn't hesitate, he shook Sirius arm, calling him with an urgency that she felt in her gut. Her eyes zeroed in on Sirius' bare chest, searching for something. For that luminescence she now knew had been there.

'Sirius!' Harry said, shaking his godfather in earnest. 'Wake up!'

There was a crack as the room burned bright and the walls started to rattle. Hermione cried out, but her voice was muffled. Turned insignificant by the sudden roar of magic that dwindled and spread- pulsed. She wanted to run and move but... she couldn't. Her body wasn't hers anymore, rendered useless by the swirling magic. Frightened eyes sought Harry and through the corner of her eye, she found him.

Jaw clenched, teeth bared and body taut- she fought the magic, willing herself to move. Harry's eyes had gone completely white and she cried and screamed as the wild magic circled around and through them. She felt it in her bones now, a violent hum that vibrated her teeth and beat against her heart and brain. She couldn't think. The pain was too much and she knew that her screams were going to rip her throat apart.

The noise stopped.

The magic receded and she heard shouting across the floor, the sound of running footsteps moving towards them and growing louder by the second.

Hermione's knees buckled as her head gave a violent throb and she tumbled onto Harry, who caught her at the last second. She looked up at him and her mouth fell open. The magic was fading into him.

"Harry!' she rasped out, her throat raw, the taste of blood growing in her mouth.

She shook him. Trying desperately to get his attention as the unknown magic continued to pour into him but he ignored her, too entranced by whatever it was that he was seeing. Hermione followed his gaze and her stomach dropped and her mouth fell open.

The Deathly Hallows.

The cloak, the wand, the stone. Made of smoke and vibrating with an energy that glowed blueish-white, the symbol lingered in the air above Sirius' still form. It moved in tandem with his chest, dropping with each inhale until it touched his skin and faded.

She was shaking now, she felt feverish and Harry was pulling her upwards as he straightened his back. Mouth agape and eyes wide, she didn't dare look away, even as Aurors and Healers rushed into the room, their wands drawn. Their questioning shouts demanding and irrelevant background noise which soon grew muted.

Sirius moved. His chest rose from the bed, his limbs kicked and grasped as a scream was ripped from his throat. The Marauder thrashed in his bed, coughing violently as sweat dripped down his naked chest. He sat up then, pressing himself against the headboard in a violent, undignified gesture that drew all attention and wands- some with intent to restrain, others to heal. Rolling eyes roamed over the assembled crowd before he clutched at his head with a biting scream.

The room grew still and the only sound in the room was that of Sirius' laboured breathing. Her heart was hammering away in her chest. Somewhere in the room, someone was moving. Talking. It took all her focus to realise that it was the sound of Harry, slowly moving towards his shuddering godfather.

'Sirius?'

The word nearly broke her. The pain and hope and longing in his voice had been too much. Her vision blurred and her breath hitched when Sirius once again opened his eyes, recognition in their steely depths when he found Harry.

A/N: New year, new fic, same ship.

Older readers, I know what you're thinking and I swear I'm working on it. This fic here is my attempt at kick starting my muse- Silver and Pick will be worked on next. New readers, thanks for clicking on my little fic and giving it a chance.

To all of you, Happy 2k18 and thank you for reading. Please review.

Erica x