A/N: Okay, I've decided that I will let my Beta have as much time as she needs, so the chapters of this story won't be edited any time soon.


Chapter 9

September, 1999

Hermione didn't know what to think of the Veil. Most of the Unspeakables considered impossible the hypothesis of it being a portal to the world of the dead. Harry had told her that both Albus Dumbledore and Remus Lupin said that Sirius wouldn't return from it. That he had left them and that no one could do anything about it. She was sure that for the two men to say those words they should have known something about the Veil, or maybe they knew that no one had ever returned from it.

But just because it never happened it didn't mean that it couldn't happen.

The idea of the Veil being a method of execution wasn't as terrible as it had sounded the first time she heard it, especially if one compared it to Azkaban. Of course, Azkaban would have been the choice of the Wizengamot if they wanted to punish criminals, to make them suffer. But everyone knew that the law could be bent to favour certain people. Normally people with money. The Veil would have been preferred to the prison in that case. It was quicker, less painful and, some would think, a sort of more honoured death.

But there was also the hypothesis that the Veil hadn't been a method for the execution of prisoners. It could have been something else. Hermione just didn't know what. That's why she wanted to read Sluier's book. She had read all the reports so she knew that, despite the fact that he had, apparently, been a pure blood wizard with a profound hatred for Muggles, he had been criticised during his life because he considered the Veil a gate, a portal to the world of the dead. She needed to know what were his arguments, why he thought that. She was fervently hoping that his book didn't contain just a romanticised version of the Veil. Something useful for his plot. Something fictional.

But the Department of Mysteries had decided that the book was fictional and that it had been added to the list of restricted books. Everyone knew that fictional books were hardly ever sent to the restricted area. The book had to have something which was considered dangerous.

And considering that Sluier's book was the only one which mentioned the Veil, at least the only one the Department of Mysteries seemed to know of, it wouldn't take so long to read it and then write her report. And if she ended up finding out that the book was fictional then, at least, she wouldn't think "what if" in the future.

She just needed to confirm that the book was in the restricted area and then ask the head of the Department of Mysteries if she could take a look at it. If he didn't let her, well, she would just have to take advantage of her status as a war heroine and talk with the Minister. But she would only use such dishonest actions as her last resort.

Once again, Hermione walked to the counter of the library, where the librarian, Mr. Herbert Benson, was talking with some wizard and pointing at the doors, seeming to give directions to the wizard. Hermione chuckled. Maybe someone had ended up in the library wishing to be somewhere else.

When Hermione reached the counter, the librarian immediately asked for her badge.

"I don't wish to go into the library," she explained, looking apologetically at him.

The man glared at her and murmured something about her not being the first. Hermione almost laughed. It seemed the wizard he had talked to before her had indeed been asking for directions.

"And how can I help you..." he looked at her badge. "Miss Granger?"

"I wish to know if a specific book can be found in the restricted area."

Herbert Benson frowned. "Miss Granger, do you work for the Ministry?"

"No, I don't. No officially anyway. I'm in a project for the Department of Mysteries."

"Then you certainly know that you cannot have access to books of the restricted area," he said, as if he was talking to a child.

Hermione had to control the impulse of rolling her eyes. "Yes, sir, I am aware of that. The Head of the Department of Mysteries, William Geheim, said we couldn't have access to the restricted are," she admitted. "But I don't wish you to give me access to the book--"

"You don't?" he asked, frowning.

"I just wish to know if the book exists in this library," she explained with a small smile. "I know I am not forbidden to ask this. There's no rule about asking about books in the restricted area. I checked."

The librarian narrowed his eyes. He looked suspiciously at her. "Yes, Miss Granger. That is what we call an unspoken rule," he said.

"But there is no written rule about that, Mr. Benson. And I just wish to know if the book exists. You can tell me either yes or no. And I won't try to steal the book from the library if the answer is yes…"

He sighed, looking impatient. "What book are you seeking, Miss Granger?"

"It doesn't have a title… at least that I know of," she said, perfectly aware of the way he was looking at her. "But, I do know the author." she said.

The man sighed again. "Thank Merlin for that," he said. "Who's the author then?"

"Sluier."

"One moment, please" he said and with a flick of his wand a role of parchment appeared in the air. Hermione noticed it was like the one in Australia, when the man had asked for her name and had to search it in a list. This parchment, however, didn't glow.

"Miss Granger, I'm afraid the book is unavailable," he said.

Hermione felt her heat skip a beat. Had someone already been there asking for the book? Had someone, maybe one of her colleagues, gotten authorization from the Head to have access to the book?

"Uh... Was the book requested recently?" she asked, hesitantly.

He narrowed his eyes. "You can't possibly think I am going to divulge the time it was requested or the identity of the person, Miss Granger." he said, looking almost like a disappointed teacher.

Hermione knew very well that he couldn't give that information, but she needed the book. "Would you, at least, be allowed to tell me if the book was requested a long time ago or if it as recently?" she asked. "Please, Mr. Benson, it is of extreme importance and I can promise you I will not use the information to cause any harm to--"

"Miss Granger, I cannot tell you that," he said, in a tone that showed he was losing his patience.

"I understand. But... Is there any chance you can inform me when the book returns to the library?"

"I can inform you if, by then, you are still in the project or working for the Ministry," he admitted.

Hermione nodded. "Okay, then please do it, sir" Hermione pleaded.

He nodded absently and Hermione left the library, thinking that it would be better to start working on her report and then add any information she found in the book.


Hermione had started to divide the information she had found in the reports. She would write about the Veil being a possible execution method and about the Sluier's theory. She just hoped that whoever had Sluier's book, would finish and give it back to the library before November, otherwise she would have to rethink her plans.

She was planning the way she would write the information and the way the report would be organised when someone knocked on her door and opened it. Only one person was allowed to knock and open the door. Harry. Hermione quickly hid the several sheets containing information about the Veil. The last thing she needed was an illogically hopeful Harry. She didn't want him to be more disappointed.

"Hermione? Am I interrupting?" he asked, peeking from the door.

"Not really," she said, raising from her chair and opening the door so he would come in.

"Huh, I tried to get in contact with you since yesterday. I even thought of leaving you a note but I thought that I should probably tell you face to face"

"Did something happen?" Hermione asked quickly, eyeing him to check if he was okay. The last days she had been so concentrated planning what to write in her report that even if Kreacher had danced around in her room she wouldn't have notice.

He frowned. "Kind of."

"What? What happened?"

"Mrs. Weasley--" Harry started.

Hermione's eyes widened in horror. She knew it. She knew she shouldn't have told Ron. Or, at least, she should have told the rest of the Weasley clan after telling Ron about her parents. It was a wonder Molly Weasley hadn't been waiting for her to return from the Ministry to comfort her and give her advice.

"Did she find out about my parents?" she asked, a note of desperation in her voice.

"What-- No!" Harry said, shaking his head in emphasis. "It's not that!"

"God, Harry, just say what it is..." Hermione said. "Is this about... about your dreams… is it?"

"My dreams?" Harry asked, seeming genuinely confused.

"You know..." she said, sighing. "Your dreams with... with Sirius."

Harry's green eyes sparkled in comprehension. "No... not that," he said. "Actually... I haven't dreamt of him since the day I talked to you." Harry admitted, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Oh?"

"I guess you were right. I was probably reading too much into them," Harry said. Hermione nodded slowly, waiting for him to say something else. "I guess I'm just working too much too," he said with a grin. "I don't even remember dreaming... It must be all that Auror training…"

Hermione smiled mischievously. "Auror training and Ginny."

"Anyway," he quickly said to avoid more comments. "Anyway… you know you'll have to tell them soon, you know. Mrs. Weasley is probably planning on inviting your parents to Christmas and, I know it's still September, but you know how Mrs. Weasley is and---"

"Oh my God," Hermione murmured. "You're right... I have to tell them soon... Maybe I could tell Mr. Weasley firt..." she commented quietly, more to herself than to Harry. "He would know how to tell Mrs. Weasley... and, well, once Mrs. Weasley knows, everyone else will know..."

"Hermione, I don't know any good way of telling people someone died... But you need to tell them."

"You're right... I guess I'll just have to use my Gryffindor courage, eh?" she said, smiling reassuringly.

Harry nodded but he didn't look less worried. "I think you'll have to use your Gryffindor courage sooner than you expect..." he said slowly, looking at her attentively, waiting for her reaction.

Hermione looked up at his green eyes. "What do you mean?" she asked, with the same tone he had used.

"Hermione... did you forget?"

She blinked in confusion. "Did I forget about what?"

Harry sighed. "Your birthday," he finally said. "You do remember that last year Mrs. Weasley said that your birthday dinner would be at the Burrow."

Hermione gaped at him, unable to say anything. She had promised Molly Weasley that she would let her make a special dinner for her birthday at the Burrow. Hermione remembered that day. It had been in her nineteenth birthday, when she received a present from the matriarch of the Weasleys – another jumper. She had replied affirmatively but she never thought Molly Weasley would remember, which she realised, was silly of her. Of course the woman would remember. Hermione's birthdays had always been at Hogwarts and it would be the first time (if she didn't count the year before the war ended) that it wasn't.

Suddenly she wished she was still at Hogwarts.

She knew they were going to ask about their parents. The attention wouldn't be on Harry like last time. The attention would be on her.


The Weasley's kitchen wasn't exactly big. Despite having enough space for the long wooden table and a prominent fireplace, it was actually rather cramped. Almost suffocating. But to Hermione that could also be because she knew that one of the Weasleys could, at any moment, ask about her parents. She knew they would want to know about them. They were polite and they had actually liked the Grangers, especially Mr. Weasley, even if it had more to do with his fascination with Muggles.

All the eight places at the table were occupied. Not all the Weasleys were there, and Hermione silently thanked that. Bill and Fleur had stayed with Victoire in Shell Cottage and Charlie was in Romania.

When she had arrived at the Burrow with Harry, she had been surrounded by the Weasleys, who wished her happy birthday and handed her some presents, which she decided to open later. Then they had made her sit at the table and Mrs. Weasley had asked Ginny's help to bring the food to the table. Hermione had actually offered to help but Mrs. Weasley pushed her to the table.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Percy asked while Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were distracted, a red eyebrow raised at her. "You look paler than usual."

Mrs. Weasley quickly stopped finishing the food to check if Hermione had fever and glared at her son for scaring her unnecessarily.

Hermione gulped. "I'm fine, thank you, Percy," she said, in a quiet voice. Percy didn't seem convinced but didn't mention it again. He probably just didn't want his mother to glare at him.

"Hermione has been working too hard," Ron said quickly, trying to explain why Hermione could be pale, even though he knew that it was because of her parents. He elbowed Harry, who was between Ron and Hermione. "Right Harry?"

"Huhm?" Harry asked, turning to Ron, who looked intently at him. Hermione was sure they had planned something, probably to help her in case someone asked about her parents. "Yes! Yes, I… I don't see her very frequently since she started working for the Ministry" Harry said, trying to look normal, but failing. If the situation had been other, Hermione would have laughed at his face. Hermione noticed Ginny frowning and sending an inquisitive look at Harry, who avoided facing his girlfriend.

When the food was on the table and Molly Weasley asked for Hermione's plate, so she would be the first. She turned her soft eyes to Hermione and asked: "Hermione, dear, do you know if your parents have planned any trip?"

"Mum! Hurry up! I'm hungry!" Ron shouted.

Molly glared at him. "Quite frankly, Ronald, behave yourself. It's Hermione's birthday." she said, handing Hermione her plate. "Here you go, dear."

Hermione thought of starting to eat, so she wouldn't be able to talk, but that would have been rude of her, so she opted for drinking a glass of pumpkin juice.

"I was wondering, Hermione, you know… Because if they haven't planned anything yet--"

"But I'm hungry…" Ron whined, interrupting his mother again. Hermione winced. She knew Ron was making it on purpose, but she also knew that Molly Weasley wasn't the most patient person and if Ron kept on interrupting her he wouldn't probably be hurt by the end of the dinner.

"Stop interrupting me!" Molly snapped, waving the spoon in his direction. "Is the juice alright, dear?" she asked Hermione, who nodded energetically. "I just saw you making a strange face, dear, that's why I asked…" Mrs. Weasley admitted. "As I was saying," Molly said, glaring at her son, daring him to interrupt her one more time. "If they don't have anything planned, they could come here… or Grimmauld Place. I don't know where it would be better for the dinner to take place... It all depends on how many people will be present…" Molly said, filling everyone's plate but Ron's. "If your parents might come I say that the dining room in Grimmauld Place would be better. It has more space."

Hermione's heart was beating incredibly fast and her hands were trembling while she held the glass of juice.

"So?" Molly Weasley asked, finally filling Ron's plate, with less food than everyone else's.

Hermione bit her lip.

Everyone was looking at her. She didn't look at Harry or Ron. She knew she would find pity in their eyes.

"My parents won't come to Christmas," Hermione finally said, feeling a bit sick. She hoped it was because of all the juice she drank.

"Oh? That's too bad. Where are they going this year?"

Hermione licked her lips and avoided looking at anyone. "They… They… They--" she stuttered. "I am sorry…" she murmured, looking at the food on her place.

"What are you sorry about, dear? If they can't come it's--" Molly was interrupted by her husband, who was looking at Hermione intently. Molly frowned and then her eyes widened. "Oh dear! Did something happen?" she asked, staring at Hermione. "Didn't they forgive you, dear? But for Merlin! You were saving their lives! If you want I can speak to them dear…"

Hermione looked up from the plate. Gryffindor courage. Gryffindor courage. Gryffindor courage. She repeated in her head. "They had car accident." She finally said. "They died last year… Eleven months ago to be more precise." she said, her voice as steady as if she had been telling them how Muggles travel. Harry and Ron were looking at their plates. George and Mr. Weasley looked sympathetically at her; Percy just seemed to be listening to her, but she couldn't decipher his look. Ginny and Molly were different, though. Ginny seemed divided between running to comfort her and shout at her for not telling them sooner. Molly was looking horrified at her. Hermione just didn't know if it was because of her parents' death or because of her reaction. "I found out in July. I know I should have told you sooner but--"

Molly raised from her chair so quickly it fell. She rounded the table to go to Hermione, probably to comfort her, but Hermione jumped from her chair and shook her head at the woman.

"No!" Hermione shouted.

Molly Weasley stopped abruptly and frowned in confusion. The Weasleys and Harry looked from Hermione to Molly Weasley, no one knowing what to do or say.

"What, dear?" Molly asked quietly, stepping carefully towards Hermione.

Hermione stepped behind. "I don't--" she stopped and sighed. "I don't want you to talk about it."

Molly's eyes widened in what it seemed understanding. Hermione just didn't know what, exactly, Molly Weasley had understood.

"Hermione, we will take care of you. Don't worry--" the Weasley matriarch said.

"No! No..." Hermione murmured. "I just want you to... I just don't want you to mention it..."

"But Hermione-"

"I am sorry." Hermione said, before disapparating loudly.