Chaos breeds life, when order breeds habit. -Henry Adams
"I don't want to trap you anymore."
Sirius breathed in the scent of Hermione's shampoo as he held her tighter. "You weren't the one to pull me through."
All things considered, he was taking it better than what Hermione had ever hoped. There was a cruel parallel with the man's Patronus, Animagus form, and the way he was nearly always captive or leashed in some way.
"But...this still doesn't explain why someone came after Harry and me."
Hermione moved away from the embrace slowly, reluctantly, and crossed her arms. She wanted to avoid his gaze but met him head on.
"The Ministry created my department here in the DoM specifically to hunt dark wizards." Sirius opened his mouth and she forged on before he could ask the obvious. "But we have the DMLE, right? Aurors? Well, the Ministry was a bit a shambles when it found out part of the truth behind how Voldemort managed to come back, Harry, too. The power to resurrect the dead is a little tempting. Our job was to find out all the ways different cultures describe life after death, the literal kind, and I was meant to study Muggles and the methods they use to keep people alive medically even after they should have died, or brought them back with CPR or-"
"CPR?"
"Sorry, I'm off track, it's a kind of resuscitation, like anapnea. Anyway. Ogden jumped at the chance, which should have been our first clue. He wasn't bold enough to embezzle all of his equipment and ingredients from the Ministry for his private experiments, so he funded that portion of his studies by working for hire. There are hundreds of wizard mercenaries around the world that have no true affiliation with any one belief or faction."
Sirius sat on the edge of Hermione's desk and rubbed the shaved side of his head as he considered what she was saying. "I'm aware of a few different groups around the world. I overheard my mother speaking to marksmen when I was young. The rules of engagement vary. She considered hiring someone to find me, I think, after I ran to the Potter's summer after fifth year."
Every time he opened up more about his childhood, Hermione ached a bit more. The memories didn't seem to distress Sirius to talk about which made it that much worse.
"The men that attacked you were from a group of mercenaries from Spain. They were likely hired by some of the lower-level Death Eaters associated with Ogden's work. He worked with them to get everything prepared for the third coming of their leader, the ones who were crazy enough to want him back, and when he died during his attempt they were obviously unhappy with their return on investment.
"And, though he had nothing to do with it this time, the mercs thought going after Harry would be the next best thing. You were likely something they didn't consider."
Sirius was quiet for several long minutes. The soft chords of Teddy's guitar filtered through the office door.
"You found us. How?" His voice was strained, hands pressed into her desk to keep him steady.
"Harry and I have been close friends for two decades working in highly dangerous departments. We figured a long time ago something might happen to one or both of us." Hermione unbuckled her left boot, working her foot out of it so she could pull the bottom of her pants up enough to show Sirius black ink marking her ankle. "This is a rune that works like a distress signal, something I designed from a couple different texts. It only works between the two of us, a direct connection. Harry called me with his when you were attacked."
Teddy's music stopped on the other side of the door, and Hermione folded her arms over her chest again.
"It's a lot to take in, Hermione," Sirius said. "I'm...I'm glad you're telling me all of this but I still feel like you're hiding something."
Hermione kept quiet, looking at the door to her office. With a sigh of resignation, Sirius stood up from the desk and held her steady when she put her boot back on.
Walking out together, Teddy stood to greet them. The heavy sound of her office door behind them held a sense of finality.
Teddy looked between them a couple times but was satisfied with what he saw, since he didn't say a word. Without preamble the group moved further into the confines of the Department of Mysteries towards their goal. Heavy oak doors greeted them with ominous promise, the air barely moving around them in the underground fortress. They had walked for several minutes in unadorned hallways to reach this point. After the battle in the Department during Hermione's fifth year, the department did away with the connection of the Veil Room to the Revolving Doors.
Cathedral high ceilings in the next room reverberated their steps until she felt like her head would explode from the sound. Her eyes and ears searched for any sort of indication that the darkness and silence weren't absolute. With a nervous clearing of her throat, Hermione said, "Welcome back to the Veil Room."