Disclaimer: Clearly, this isn't mine. Duh.
A.N. Here we go! I thought I'd try a different pairing again. Hermione/Sirius. Dunno how well this is gonna go, so bear with me if it sucks at first. This is totally new to me. Here's a bit of a summary for you:
Now twenty-five years old, Hermione Granger works in the Department of Mysteries as an Unspeakable. Her latest assignment is to try to uncover the mystery behind the Veil. What she discovers will be truly remarkable, but most importantly, she discovers that everyone deserves a second chance, including herself.
Nobody Said It Was Easy
Chapter One: What Happened to Hermione Granger?
She was whimpering again. That happened a lot. More often than not, when she slept, her dreams were plagued with terrible visions. Visions she had no desire to see, to relive again.
She tossed around in bed, trying to flee the invisible force that was chasing her. It was always the same dream, or some variation of it anyway. She could feel herself trying to rise up from the deep depths of slumber, trying to escape the dream, and escape the all-too-true ending.
With a sharp intake of breath, she jolted awake, sitting straight up as she gave a shake of her head to clear it.
"Bloody hell," she muttered, wiping the cold beads of sweat from her brow with shaking hands.
She sat there for a few minutes, trying to calm her racing heart and return her breathing to normal. She glanced at her alarm clock to see it was a little past one in the morning. She threw her covers off with a small groan. There was no way that she was going to get back to sleep without a little tea to help her calm down further.
She pulled her purple fuzzy robe on over her light cotton pajama pants and Quidditch t-shirt before padding over to the door and pulling it open slowly, hoping that the ancient wood would remain silent. She tiptoed out into the hallway, peering left and right down the long hallway before lighting her wand to venture down the stairs.
Hermione knew the house well enough by now that she missed the spots on the stairs that creaked ominously. She had no desire to wake the family slumbering away peacefully upstairs. She had no desire to talk to anyone, really.
The sounds of number twelve, Grimmauld Place settling around her filled her ears. She couldn't help but manage a small grin when she passed the wide open space on the wall in the front hall where that vile portrait once hung. No thanks to Harry, Sirius Black's mother was removed permanently from the wall and stashed in a dark closet in the attic, where the only company she had was herself.
Hermione crept down the stairs to the basement kitchen as quietly as possible. She had only one mission to accomplish at the moment and that was to get her tea and return to her room as quietly as she could. She was in no mood for company because she knew the conversation would turn to the same subject it always did when someone caught her up and about at such a late hour in the night. She needed to talk to someone about it, and when she did, the dreams would stop.
"Bollocks," she muttered darkly when she thought about talking to someone about the dreams. She wouldn't wish these dreams on anyone, not even to discuss what the dreams were. No one should ever have to hear about that.
Soon, the kettle was on the stove and a cup was waiting on the counter next to it, ready to be filled and taken back upstairs. Hermione leaned against the counter, her arms crossed and her eyes boring a hole in the floor. She tried to think of anything other than the dreams. She tried to think about work, but that was really quite depressing. Hermione loved her job quite a lot, but lately, the subject matter of the things she dealt with oftentimes had her coming home in a foul mood, not wanting to deal with anyone and just wanting to go shower and crawl into bed.
She jerked her wand at the kettle when it started to whistle in order to prevent someone upstairs from waking up. She poured the hot water on her tea bag and added some sugar before giving it a stir. She stuck her wand in the waist band of her sleeping pants before picking her steaming mug up and retreating back to her bedroom, careful not to make any noise along the way.
Hermione got up a few minutes before her alarm went off at five early in the morning. Soundlessly, she moved around her room, throwing her dark jeans and black t-shirt on, pulling the covers up on the bed, and gathering up her paperwork for the work day. She paused just long enough to yank her lace-up boots on and tie them securely.
Without looking back, she crept silently from the room. There would be no stopping in the kitchen this morning, as was usually the case every morning. She had no desire to be interrogated about her night, knowing full well that the conversation would lead once more to the idea of getting help. She would Apparate to downtown London and stop and the nearest coffee shop for her usual cup, then it was on to the dark alley around the corner from the coffee shop, where she would Disapparate from in order to reappear in the Atrium of the Ministry.
Hermione took a deep breath of the crisp morning air once she stepped away from number twelve. It was early spring, and the air still had a bit of a nip to it yet. Paying no mind to the chill the cloaked her, Hermione took off at a brisk walk to a nearby alley to Disapparate.
Reappearing in downtown London momentarily shook her. The peace and tranquility of an empty Grimmauld Place was no match to the hustle and bustle of the downtown area. Hermione quickly shook her head to clear it and set off at her brisk pace once more, ducking into her coffee shop to get her cup of coffee before she continued on to the Ministry.
The Atrium of the Ministry was no better than outside. Newsboys stood every few feet, selling the daily edition of the Prophet. Owls flew here and there, Ministry workers streamed all around, and to cap matters, there was the heightened security to deal with. Hermione stood in line with her fellow workers, waiting to pass by the security wizards at the desk scanning everyone with their Probity Probes.
She was cleared ten minutes later and set off once more for her post. The lifts were crowded, as they usually were in the mornings, but nevertheless, Hermione crammed herself in with ten or more other Ministry workers.
"Hermione! Hey, Hermione! Wait up!"
The grilles had snapped shut by the time Harry Potter reached the lift. With an apologetic look, Hermione had enough time to mouth her apologies to her best friend before she slid out of sight.
She sighed. That really wasn't how she wanted to start the day with her friend. She knew she'd hear about it later, no doubt, but it was what it was. There was a time when she would have cared deeply about offending the people she cared about, but that time had long passed.
"Department of Mysteries," announced the cool female voice that inhabited the lifts.
Hermione stepped off the now very much empty lift and walked down the hall toward the plain black door at the end. Her first day in the Department had forced her to relive some very intense memories, and it took her nearly a year to get used to the fact that it was her new home away from home. Even now, she still got the creeps from some of the rooms inside the Department, especially if she was pulling a late shift and it was only her.
As soon as the plain door shut behind her, the room began to spin. Hermione shut her eyes, relieving her of the annoyance of seeing blue streaks in the darkness from the flaming blue torches that lined the walls.
"Show me the way to the offices," Hermione commanded the room once it had stopped.
She went through the door that opened on her left and took the narrow staircase down to the office area, where she was sure to find her fellow Unspeakable, Adam Reese. She wasn't disappointed. Adam was at his desk, dictating to a quill that skated across the parchment in front of him. He looked up when he heard her footsteps.
"G'morning, love," he said cheerily with a wide grin.
Hermione merely rolled her eyes and proceeded to dump her armful of files on her desk.
"Someone's in a good mood this morning," he teased.
"Why don't you take your quill and-"
"Just kidding! So what's on the agenda today, love?"
"Reese, how many times do I have to tell you not to call me love? We're coworkers, seriously. Purely professional ring a bell?"
It was Reese's turn to roll his eyes. "Yeah, anyways. What's on your agenda today?"
"I have a report to finish over my studies in the Room of Thoughts and I need to do more research on the effects of the Time Turners on a wizard's overall life expectancy and-"
"You can forget about all that," Reese interrupted with a wave of his hand. "You've got a meeting to go to."
Hermione arched an eyebrow. "A meeting with who? Unless it's important, I'm not going. I have too much to do today."
"Oh, I think it's important. Here, this came a few minutes before you got here," Reese said, handing over a folded bit of parchment.
Hermione took it and read it over quickly, a look of surprise crossing her tired face. "A meeting with the Minister? What's this about?"
Reese shrugged. "Be sure to let me know once you find out."
Hermione gave him a look. "Depends if the Minister gives me permission to divulge the information. It might be of a sensitive nature."
Reese snorted back a laugh. "Oh please! We're both Unspeakables! We know what's at stake!"
Hermione's eyebrow arched once more. "What if it's something he wants only me to know?"
"Well, he's got a rubbish sense of time then. He should try sending his owls to you at your home, instead of the office, especially when I get here earlier than you do. Curious minds are alight with the craving to know what the secrecy is."
Hermione dropped wearily into her desk chair. It was far too early to be listening to Reese go on about something as menial as a meeting with the Minister of Magic himself.
"Reese, do me a favor, and shut up," she groaned, rubbing a hand over her face.
Reese shot her a contemptuous look and settled for clucking his tongue before returning to his parchment. He began dictating to his quill once more, though in a louder and more annoying voice. Sighing, Hermione cast her own Silencing Charm over her area to block him out.
It was barely seven in the morning and Hermione was ready for the day to be over. Putting up with Reese on a good day was tiring, but dealing with him after a sleepless night was borderline insanity. Maybe if she was lucky, the Minister was about to assign her to a different Department. That would be a blessing on both her and Reese, because if Reese didn't leave her the hell alone, she was pretty sure someone was going to get an Avada Kedavra to the face, and it wasn't going to be her.
"Good morning, Minister."
"Ms. Granger! Excellent, excellent! Please, come in, take a seat. Would you like something to drink? Tea? Coffee? Something stronger, perhaps?"
Hermione smiled and shook her head before sitting down. "Much appreciated, Minister, but no thank you."
She settled back in her chair and looked at the Minister, who was smiling at her kindly. Far from being intimidated by the Minister of Magic Adair Cornwell, Hermione rather felt like she was in the presence of Albus Dumbledore. The Minister was about sixty, graying hair, neatly cut, cleanly shaven. He was not an intimidating person in the least.
"So, Minister, what brings me to your office today?" Hermione asked.
"Well, Ms. Granger, I've been discussing matters with a few of my colleagues, and we feel the time is right to open an investigation," the Minister said evasively.
Hermione quirked an eyebrow. "An investigation, sir? Into the Department of Mysteries itself? Sir, we haven't done anything wrong, have-"
Cornwell laughed. "Heavens, no! Calm yourself, Ms. Granger, this has nothing to do with how you and Mr. Reese conduct your affairs down in the Department of Mysteries. However, this is a rather important investigation. You see, we'd like you to find out as much as you can about the old archway, that is, I believe, what you refer to as the Veil."
Being told to investigate the Veil was the last thing Hermione was expecting. She simply sat there for a few minutes, stunned into silence. Cornwell chuckled at her.
"Not exactly what you were expecting, eh?"
Hermione had the decency to shut her hanging mouth. "Not exactly, sir."
"Well, if it's a problem for you, I'm sure Mr. Reese would be willing to do it," Cornwell suggested, knowing that Hermione would hate to hand over such an important task.
"No, sir! I can do it! It's just, well, it's a shock. No one's mentioned the Veil in a very long time, and Reese and I haven't so much as stepped foot into the Veil's room in over a year. We just thought that there was nothing more to it," Hermione hastily explained.
"We had thought that there was nothing more to it as well. But, as no one's examined it closely in a very long time, we feel the time is ripe to open another investigation into it. Besides, you're one of the best and brightest we've had in that Department in a while, and my colleagues and I feel that you might have more luck with such a daunting task."
"Do I have a specific time frame, sir? Hermione asked, sitting up straighter in her chair. She wanted to begin as soon as possible.
Cornwell laughed. "Oh no, you may take as long as you'd like to figure out the Veil's mysteries. I daresay you'll have your work cut out for you."
"Thank you, sir, that's very generous of you."
"And as I know you're itching to get straight to work, you are dismissed. One last thing, though. I expect a report of your initial findings on my desk in two weeks."
Hermione almost leapt from her chair. "Yes, sir. You can count on me."
"Very well. I'll be talking to you in two weeks."
Hermione left his office quickly, eager to return to the Department and begin an outline for her approach to the research. She was floored by the idea of investigating the Veil. Finally, she'd be able to prove her worth to the Ministry.
She found herself in an empty lift on the way back down to the Department of Mysteries. Her mind was racing. She was suddenly struck with the possibilities that could come from investigating the Veil. It had been ten years since Sirius Black disappeared behind the Veil. Ten long years. Hermione's heart skipped a beat when she thought of the possibility of bringing him back. As far as she knew, no one had ever returned from the Veil. Where they went, nobody knew. But it was common knowledge that it was impossible to return from it.
"Or is it?" Hermione muttered to herself absently as she scurried down the hall to the plain black door.
Hermione was so wrapped in her thoughts that she hardly noticed Reese sitting as his desk still, giving her the evil eye when she ignored him. He was clearly dying for information.
"Well?" he asked in a rather irritated fashion.
"Well what?" Hermione asked distractedly, scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment with her head barely five inches from it.
"The meeting!"
"Oh, that. Yeah, lots to do."
"You're killing me, love," Reese grumbled, annoyed.
"Call me love again and I'll-"
"You won't do anything to me. We both know that you're secretly in love with me," Reese said airily, waving a hand through the air.
Hermione threw down her quill, disgusted. One look at Reese's face made her realize that was what he was aiming for. Complete and total distraction from what she was doing. She cursed him silently.
"All right, Reese. You've got my attention. What do you want?"
"What did the Minister want to talk to you about?" Reese asked eagerly.
Hermione sighed, rubbing her hand across her face once more. Conversations with Reese wore her out more than a week's worth of the office itself.
"He wanted to set me to a new task," she said simply.
"Which is?"
"He wants me to investigate the Veil."
Reese's jaw dropped. "The Veil? What the hell for?"
Hermione shrugged. "No one's ever had much luck with it. The Minister thinks I might."
Reese looked mildly indignant. "Just you? Not me?"
"Just me," Hermione confirmed, picking up her quill once more, knowing Reese was heading for a childlike temper tantrum.
"Why the hell-"
"Reese, if you've got a problem with it, take it up with the Minister. In the meantime, leave me alone so I can work," Hermione snapped, cutting off his tantrum and returning to her parchment.
Reese mouthed soundlessly like a fish out of water for a few seconds, then with a snap, closed his mouth and returned to the paperwork in front of him.
Hermione worked steadily through the afternoon without interruption. Slightly offended that he was considered less intelligent than Hermione, Reese left her alone. He called it a day shortly after four in the afternoon, giving her a rather short good bye before he left the office as quickly as he could.
Rather than worry about it, Hermione smirked slightly as Reese's footsteps up the stairs faded away. The man really needed to grow up a bit more before he tried to question the authority of the Minister. It wasn't her fault that the Minister chose her to carry out the investigation of the Veil.
At long last, Hermione finally threw down her quill and rubbed her tired, aching eyes. She'd been at it all afternoon, no lunch break or anything of the sort. She glanced at her clock and received a slight shock; it was nearly seven. She gave a quiet groan. She was surely going to hear about her tardiness to dinner when she got home.
As quick as she could, she organized all the notes she had taken during the afternoon and stuffed them into her messenger bag. She cast a secrecy charm over her desk just on the off chance that Reese would try snooping around for more information on the Veil. She shut off her desk light and left the office for the night, her stomach now rumbling angrily at being ignored all afternoon. Once she reached the Atrium, she quickly Disapparated for home.
She walked into the front hall of number twelve and smelled the deliciousness of dinner floating on the air. She sucked her saliva in and hurried up the stairs to deposit her work things in her room before heading to the basement for food.
Upon entering the kitchen, there was a high pitched squeal of delight, and then something small and warm wrapped itself around Hermione's legs, squealing all the while.
"Aunt Ah-my-knee!"
Hermione laughed and bent down to pick up the precocious three year old who had wrapped herself around Hermione's legs.
"How's my favorite Sophie today?" she asked the little girl, who was giggling and playing with Hermione's long brown curls.
"Good!" the little girl said happily. "Me and Mama baked cookies and played with dolls!"
Hermione smiled at her little goddaughter. She brought so much life and joy into Hermione's life. She loved her to pieces.
"You're late," came the admonishment.
Hermione cast a sheepish look at Sophie's mother. Ginny Potter tried to look stern in a clear imitation of her mother, but failed miserably as she cracked up at the look on Hermione's face.
"Long day at the office?" Harry inquired from his place at the table, where he had just finished his meal.
"A bit," Hermione sighed. "Sorry about this morning, if I would have known you were behind me, I would have stopped the lift from closing."
Harry shook his head. "No worries. I was early anyway."
"Here," Ginny said, handing over a plate of delicious stew. "Sit, eat."
Hermione took it gratefully and sank down at the table to eat. Ginny set a glass of pumpkin juice down next to her arm and sat next to her, surveying her critically.
"You look exhausted," she commented gently, peering at Hermione's face.
Hermione shrugged in a nonchalant sort of way. "Long day. I worked straight through the afternoon, no lunch break."
Ginny made a noise of disbelief. "Can't you slack off every now and then, Hermione? Really, is there a need to be a workaholic all the time?"
"Can't slack off," Hermione said around a chunk of beef. "New assignment from the Minister himself."
Harry's ears perked up in interest. "From the Minister himself? Wow, Hermione, that's really big."
Hermione nodded as she took a sip of her juice. "I know. That's why I can't slack off. He wants a report on my progress in two weeks."
Ginny and Harry looked slightly curious at the news.
"Is there a reason the Minister gave you the assignment specifically? Couldn't Reese help you?" Ginny asked after a short pause.
Hermione shook her head. "He seems to think I'd have more luck going it alone than to have Reese slow me down. The Minister thinks I'm well up to the challenge."
Harry looked sly. "I don't suppose you could tell us what you're working on, could you?"
Hermione pretended to look exasperated. "Now Harry, you know that as an Unspeakable, I cannot mention anything at all about what I'm working on."
He laughed at her long suffering tone of voice. "Just thought I'd ask."
Ginny stood up with Sophie in her arms. "Looks like this little one needs to go to bed."
Harry jumped up. "Let me take her. You've had her all day. Take some time to get off your feet, Gin."
Ginny smiled at him. "Thanks. You're the greatest."
Harry kissed his wife lightly before having the sleeping little girl transferred to his waiting arms. Carefully, he walked up the stairs without jostling Sophie.
Ginny sank back down into her seat. "You have no idea how much energy that child has."
Hermione grinned. She could only imagine what went on at number twelve during the day when she and Harry weren't home. She could easily picture Ginny chasing little curly-headed Sophie from room to room.
"She's a good little girl, Gin. You and Harry should be proud," Hermione said quietly, feeling a pang in her heart.
"Oh, we are. I should leave her to you for a day and see how you manage," Ginny said ruefully.
Hermione pushed a potato around her plate. Her stew was half eaten, but she wasn't very hungry anymore. The conversation shift had left her without an appetite. Without realizing it, she sighed deeply, causing Ginny to look at her with concern.
"Are you all right, Hermione?"
She picked her plate up and took it over to the sink. She knew Ginny would see it as an escape tactic and a way to avoid the question.
"Fine. Why do you ask?" Hermione tried to say lightly.
Ginny frowned. "Don't give me that innocent act. I know you're not fine. You haven't been sleeping again, have you?"
Hermione crossed her arms across her chest. Another defensive action. Hermione was getting pretty good at those lately.
"I'm fine, Gin. Really. Work's just been really stressful lately."
Ginny sighed and looked down at her hands. She really wished Hermione would open up to her. Hell, if she would just open up to anyone, they'd be making progress. She knew that Hermione had never allowed herself to grieve properly, and it was finally catching up to her, three years later.
"Hermione, please," Ginny begged quietly. "Just talk to me."
Hermione turned away from the redhead, feeling guilty. She hated when she caused Ginny more pain than she already felt. It was bad enough that she, Harry, and Hermione lived in the same house together, making the pain they all felt fill the house to a point beyond unbearable at times.
"There's nothing to talk about. You know I cope with things differently than you and Harry do," Hermione said in a voice no louder than a whisper.
"You haven't been coping at all!" Ginny cried, tears sparkling in her eyes.
"Yes, I have," Hermione whispered fiercely.
Feeling her tears threaten and not wanting Ginny to see them, Hermione fled the kitchen, trying to hold her head up high and keep her dignity in tact. She ran into Harry on the stairs up to the second floor. He opened his mouth to speak, but she just shook her head at him and continued up to her room, where she shut and locked the door, having no desire to speak to anyone for the rest of the night.
She sat down on the edge of her bed, her hands shaking like mad and her head spinning. The desire to talk about it had been very, very strong just now. She almost allowed herself to open up for the first time in three years. The idea of finally talking about what happened was both scary and relieving. Maybe she had finally reached the point where she couldn't take it anymore. It was either talk about it or snap completely.
She took a deep breath to calm herself. She had to keep it together. She was Hermione Granger, she couldn't allow herself to break under the strain of things. She was strong and stubborn. Whatever her problem was, it would take a side bar to the more important things in life, like continuing to fight the war.
"Okay, time to think of something else," she muttered to herself, feeling the wrench of her stomach at the thought of the war.
Knowing she was far from sleep at the moment, she decided to work a little more on her notes for the following day at the Department. She was hoping to actually visit the Veil tomorrow as soon as she could. She had a few theories she wanted to try out in order to eliminate some possible solutions to solving the Veil's mysteries.
She again pondered the idea of returning Sirius Black to the real world once more. It was both thrilling and illogical; if no one had ever been brought back from the Veil before, what were the odds that a witch of twenty-five years old could bring back the infamous Sirius Black?
She took a moment to remember him as he was the last time she had seen him. She felt a violent pang in her heart that had nothing to do with her loss; the very idea of Harry losing the only father figure he'd had in his life had been horrible. She also felt bad that she couldn't tell Harry what she was up to now. She tried to quell her guilt by telling herself there was no good reason to get Harry's hopes up. If there was any chance at all of bringing Sirius back, she would ask the Minister if she could divulge the information to Harry. But until then, she'd remain tight lipped about the whole affair.
Hermione wondered what would happen to Sirius if she could bring him back. When Voldemort finally came out in the open, the Ministry realized the error in their ways and had granted Sirius a full pardon, posthumously. If Hermione was able to bring him back, he'd be able to live a normal life.
"But would he?" Hermione wondered aloud.
The Ministry wouldn't know what to make of a person returning from the Veil after ten years. Surely they'd want to keep him quarantined or something like that. Hermione shuddered at the thought. What if they locked him up in St. Mungo's for the rest of his life, running innumerable tests on him and poking and prodding him constantly?
At that, Hermione had to laugh. She was getting far ahead of herself. She hadn't even begun to fully map out the possibilities of the Veil's existence, and here she was assuming she could raise the dead. The Minister was right; she certainly had the ambition to get the job done.
She laid her quill down and corked her ink bottle, stifling a huge yawn with her hand. She decided she'd take a quick shower, then go straight to bed, where she hoped to get a full night's sleep for once.
While in the shower, she tried to calm her racing thoughts. The thought of being able to get close to the Veil tomorrow was exciting; if she could manage it, she'd go back to the office tonight to pull an all-nighter. Instead of thinking about work, she tried to empty her mind of everything she had felt today. She knew she'd have a better chance of sleeping soundly if she did.
Back in her room, she burrowed down under her covers, trying her best to keep her mind empty. At long last, she finally fell into a light sleep, her mind blissfully empty, though her heart ached from its long standing emptiness.