A/N: I know. It's been like a month. I had this chapter pretty much done weeks ago, but I wasn't sure about it…

Chapter 14

March, 2000

The Healer, Kenneth Blake, hadn't allowed Hermione to see him. Only when every wizard and witch were out of the sixth floor they would be allowed to have visitors.

Strange enough, Hermione hadn't felt disappointed or complained about it. She was oddly uninterested in the whole situation. She thought that perhaps it was simply because she was tired or because she still couldn't believe people have returned from the Veil. However, nothing was harder to absorb than the fact that Harry's godfather was one of them. She couldn't believe it. That's why she had asked to see him. She wanted to be sure it had happened.

And Harry… soon he would know… What would he think and do? Would he instantly believe what he would be told or would he be sceptic about the whole situation? And would he be mad at her?

In her bedroom, Hermione glanced at the small, Muggle wooden clock on her desk. It had been four hours since she returned to Grimmauld Place from St. Mungus, maybe Harry had already been informed of the whole situation.

Looking away from the clock, she decided to worry about Harry when he returned. She picked her quill and absently bit the feather. She immediately stopped when she realised what she was doing. Sticking her tongue out in disgust, Hermione looked at the list of possible jobs she had written in a piece of old parchment she had found in the drawer.

Every possible job she had written down was related to the Ministry of Magic and, after what she had done, she didn't know if she would be accepted in any department. If William Geheim didn't let it slip she would have a chance. She as a war heroine, after all. They'd probably fight to have her working for them. But if they indeed heard about what she had done, she wouldn't be considered much trustworthy.

Hermione sighed, scratching several options on the list. She would have to find a job. She couldn't live with Harry forever. She was certain it wouldn't take long for him to wish to live alone with Ginny.

After scratching several more options – these were related to the Department of Law Enforcement - she decided she would go to Diagon Alley and visit Flourish and Blotts. As much as it pained her to even think about it, she was thinking of wandering about in the section of self-help books, a genre she never read.

Putting the parchment back in the drawer, Hermione could only wince when she heard the portrait of Walburga Black starting to scream obscenities. She sighed deeply and started heading towards the stairs. Someday, she would have to do something about the portrait…

"SHUT UP!" someone screamed, louder than the portrait.

Widening her eyes, Hermione stopped abruptly. It had been Harry.

She ran down the stairs and when she reached the entryway Harry stormed in her direction, his face transformed into a mask of rage, with his green eyes glinting dangerously. Hermione instantly raised her arms, protecting her head.

"They didn't let me see him!" he shouted.

Hermione sighed in relief and glanced at the velvety black curtain which hid the portrait and was surprised when she realized it was as quiet as a mouse.

"They didn't let me see him!" he shouted once again. When Hermione only looked at him, he stormed out of the entryway, throwing the door behind him, making Hermione wince. She turned to follow him. When she reached him he was on the staircase, noisily stepping on the wooden stairs. When he reached the top of the stairs he turned to her.

"Did you see him?"

"No," Hermione quickly answered, afraid he would do something if she wasn't fast enough.

"You were there. You were in the room," he said accusingly.

"I didn't see anything!" Hermione said. "There was this bright light--"

"I was told," he said, dismissingly.

"I couldn't see anything," she said, frowning slightly.

"We were asked to be there so that they would inform us. Nothing more. Apparently they didn't want to shock us," he said, a note of bitterness in his voice.

Hermione bit her lip. "They'll probably want to run some tests too…"

He turned her back at her and headed towards his bedroom. Hermione stood on top of the stairs, looking at him.

Without looking at her, he asked: "Why didn't you tell me anything?"

"I know you, Harry," she murmured. "If I told you I thought there was a way of bringing those who fell from the Veil, you would have done something about it."

"Yes, I would," he said, sharply. "Just like you."

"No… not like me." she said, shaking her head.

He looked at her confused.

"In your case it would be personal, Harry."

"You knew -- know --" he sighed. "You know him too."

Hermione snorted. "Harry, he's not related to me," she said. "Besides… even if I wanted to tell you, I'd probably be restrained from doing it… The moment I accepted working for the Department of Mysteries I took an oath not to reveal anything that could go against its rules--"

"You broke those rules."

She sighed. "Yes, I did… and it won't take too long for me to receive a letter from William Geheim informing me that my services are no longer required. I'm sure I just haven't received it yet because he has been too busy…"

Harry leaned his head against the door and banged it lightly.

"Harry?"

"What?"

"When will you be allowed to see him?"

"Your Head--" he glanced at her. "Your former Head said he would write us… I suppose it will depend on how those who returned are going to take the news," he said. "Hermione… do you think they'll tell him everything that happened?"

"I don't know… but… I think they'll only tell them… well, it actually will depend on how long they were gone but… in Sirius' case… they'll probably just tell him the most general things… like…"

"The war?"

"Yes…"

"I almost hexed someone," he said with a muffled voice, still not facing her.

"Are… Are you being serious?" Hermione asked, not really knowing if he meant what he said.

"I mean it. I…" he turned to her. "Hermione…"

He walked to her and grabbed her shoulders. "He's alone there," he muttered. "I can't even imagine what he might be feeling… and— and-… I still don't believe it… I wanted to see him to make sure they weren't lying…"

"You will see him. You are his only family…" she said. "And you… you know you'll need to talk to him, right? I mean, you will need to tell him what really happened."

Harry's eyes widened. "My God…" he murmured. "I— I can't!"

"Harry, you must! You are his godson…"

"You do it," he said quickly. "You will be able to tell him everything in a--"

"You've got to be kidding me, Harry," Hermione interrupted, taking his hands from her shoulders harshly. "I will not. You are the person he loves the most--"

"I won't be able to tell him his best friend died!" Harry shouted.

"Do you honestly want someone else telling him that?"

"Hermione--"

Hermione pointed a finger at him, so he would stop speaking. "It has to be you, Harry," she said, turning her back to him and heading towards her chambers.

The following morning, before Hermione went to Diagon Alley, she stood outside Harry's room and knocked on his door. When he didn't open the door, she thought he was still sleeping, but when, after she kept knocking, he didn't answer, she started to worry.

"Harry? Are you alright?"

"Yes!" he shouted from the inside of the room. "I just need to be alone!"

Hermione was taken aback. "Oh, ok… but… uh… I'm going to Diagon Alley… Do you want to come with me?"

No answer.

She sighed. He had told her he needed time alone. How tactful of you, Hermione, she thought.

"Do you want me to bring you anything?"

No answer. Again.

Sighing again, Hermione walked downstairs. Glancing one last time to the stairs, almost hoping to see him coming from there, she grabbed a handful of floo powder and threw it to the flames.

Flourish and Blotts was the largest bookshop in Diagon Alley. It was also the only place in the Magical World where Hermione bought books, but only because she had never needed to search for books in other bookshops. Flourish and Blotts had always had the books she wanted.

That day hadn't been the exception.

When she reached the self-help books section she saw several other wizards and witches nervously searching for something that would tell them what to do. She felt pity for them. And herself, since she was in the same position. Absently running her fingers through the cover of so of the books, she noticed that most of those books weren't related to what she was searchin -- they included titles like "Charm the Wizard of Your Dreams" or "Slimming Spells". After half a hour, she had found ten books which promised to solve her problem. She browsed through all of them and, after the fifth she gave up and put them back in their places.

For the first time in her life she walked out of a bookshop without buying anything. She actually felt a bit guilty about that, but it was quickly forgotten when, ot of the blue, something was thrown from a shop and hit her legs, almost making her fall.

Hermione glared at the man on the doorstep of the shop, which was a pet store Hermione hadn't known that existed, and was going to comment his lack of apology when the man started speaking to himself: "Filthy little things…" he muttered under his breath, while shaking his hands, as if he had touched in something dirty.

Lifting an eyebrow, Hermione curiously looked at the floor, expecting to see something like garbage. There was no garbage, though. Hermione froze; she could only stare aghast at the sight in front of her.

A boy.

He seemed to be around six or seven. His clothes were worn out and he looked like he hadn't taken a bath in years.

The boy raised from the floor and, glaring at the owner, he started rubbing his arm. The owner snorted and walked to the inside the stop, closing the glassy door noisily.

It was then he became aware of Hermione's presence. He looked up at her, his big dark blue eyes widening in fear.

Hermione swallowed hard and bent down so her head would be at the same level as his. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"Will! Will!"

Both Hermione's and the boy's head snapped in the direction of the little girl running in their direction with her arms open and a big, toothless smile. Hermione quickly ran her eyes over her fragile body. Her clothes were exremelly worn out too.

"I wasn't able to get near one," the boy said, ignoring Hermione and looking guiltily at the girl.

"But I found one! I found one!" the girl squealed. "It was in the garbage thingy. It's so small! Come and see him!"

The boy, Will, didn't need to hear it twice. He grabbed one of the girl's tiny hands and let her guide him through the crowd. Neither of them glanced at Hermione.

When Hermione returned to Grimmauld Place she found a note from Harry stuck on the wall in front of the fireplace.

Hermione,

Geheim requested my presence in St. Mungos. If I'm not home when you return, go to St. Mungos to meet me.

Harry

In a second, Hermione was throwing floo powder to the fireplace and travelling through the flames.

When she arrived at hospital, Hermione walked towards the reception. In the way, she passed by the Welcome Witch, who greeted her in a bored tone. The moment she gave her name to the receptionist she was sent to the fourth floor. Almost without realizing, Hermione reached the fourth floor. She stopped at the entrance of the lift and wondered why she hadn't asked which room she was supposed to go. She was going to enter in the lift again but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. Hermione turned and before she had the time to open her mouth, Clarisse said, "Your friend is in room number 14." The intern shook her head, looking amused. "I don't know how you manage to do these things."

Hermione smiled at her former colleague and headed to the room, walking through a long corridor. She was about to knock on the door when she heard several noisy steps behind her.

"Hermione!"

Widening her eyes in surprise, Hermione turned to face three Weasleys, while unconsciously dropping her hand to the silver knob.

"Mrs. Weasley? What are you doing here?" she asked, looking from Mrs. Weasley to Ron and then to Mr. Weasley.

"Well…" the Wasley matron started.

"Harry told us," said Ron bluntly, his blue eyes piercing towards Hermione. He was probably slightly annoyed she hadn't told anyone.

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Harry told you? But— but… I thought he had taken an oath--"

"He did," Mr. Weasley said calmly. "But he can tell his family. And we are his family."

Mrs. Weasley and Ron nodded enthusiastically.

"He was at the Burrow when he received a letter from the Head of the Department," Mr Weasley explained. "He went flying to Grimmauld Place to leave you a note and then he came here. We just arrived through. We were waiting for Ron to be allowed to leave his training."

"How long has Harry been there?" Hermione asked, her hand never leaving the knob.

"Not long," Ron said. "He was minutes ahead of us…"

Hermione nodded and turned to the door and knocked lightly.

No answer.

She frowned towards the Weasleys, who had a similar expression on their faces. Shrugging, Hermione turned the knob and opened the door just enough to peek at the inside of the room.

She froze.

Every single thing in the room was of the purest white, and in the centre stood Sirius Black, with Harry holding onto him like he would never want to let him go again.

Hermione's small gasp made his head snap in her direction. For just a second their eyes met. Hermione quickly turned and closed the door, as soundlessly as she could manage. She leaned against the door and tried to control her breath.

The Weasleys looked at her expectantly. They were waiting for her to say something. Hermione swallowed hard, making the knot in her throat disappear.

"Erm," she cleared her throat noisily. "I think we should give them some time."