A/N: Italics in the present tense are dreams, italics in the past tense are flashbacks. Generally the flashbacks are dated.

In Dreams

Chapter Two

Hermione had not thought of Sirius since school, but lately she had discovered he was never far from her thoughts. Something she couldn't comprehend was when ever she did think of him; she'd feel a pang of loneliness. She had never been that close to him, he wasn't her godfather, occasionally she was known to stay up and talk to him, he had been excellent at transfiguration after all. Now, she missed the man. A delayed reaction of ten years had started her constant thinking of him. What was wrong with her? Was she loosing it? Maybe Remus was right, maybe she did need a break.

Remus thought it better not to mention Hermione's recent behaviour. He didn't want to reopen the wounds; although he cared he doubted he was best suited to help her forget, it best to overlook the situation. She obviously wasn't over Ron. What ever he anticipated he didn't expect what she said next.

"Remus," Hermione began quietly, unsure of how or even where she was heading with this conversation. It had been an unusually quiet day at the shop, all the stock had been counted and she had glanced through the finance books.

"Yes Hermione," he answered distracted. He grinned triumphantly to himself as he filled in 8 across on The Daily Prophet's 'Cunningly Cute Cryptic Crossword'.

"Do you… em… Miss Sirius?" she asked cautiously.

"What?" he replied, alarmed. He expected the question to be in relation to the shop.

"Do you-"

"No I heard the question, what did you mean by it?"

"It's just… I've been thinking about him a lot lately. I'm not sure why… I was just curious."

"Of course I miss him Hermione," he began sadly; "he was by best friend. The four of us where like brothers, myself, Sirius, James and even Peter." Whose name he said in resigned sadness, he continued with a far off look in his eyes. "We were like you, Harry and Ro-" he stopped suddenly aware of his blunder.

"You can say their names Remus." In all the years she had known Remus, she had never found the courage to ask how much Peter's betrayal had hurt him. She long suspected it was an even greater betrayal than what Sirius had felt.

"Sorry- but yes I still miss him, I miss them all."

"I miss him too," she said quietly.

"Really?" he said sounding more surprised than he'd meant.

"You sound positively shocked, can I not miss him?"

"No you can… it's just you never seemed particularly close."

"You don't need to be attached at the hip to miss someone," she snapped.

"Yes, yes that's true. Of course you're right, sorry." Remus returned to his crossword no longer able to fully concentrate. He always found it difficult to talk about Sirius.

The silence, reigning once again, was broken when Hermione began talking quietly and incoherently, "what… em… what if he never… actually… eh… never died…" Hermione already regretted the words as she heard them flowing out. She was not oblivious to how Remus' face dropped and his eyes close in silent prayer.

Remus sighed deeply, "Hermione you can't live your life on 'what ifs'. If you do you'll never get over anything."

Hermione just couldn't prevent the words spewing forth, "but there was no body." Once they were out they seemed to hang in the air with a life of their own, dampening the already unstable atmosphere.

"Hermione, stop it."

"Maybe he isn't dead."

"Let it go," he replied getting increasingly irritated.

"But-"

"Sop. It. Now. He's dead, please, let it go. It has been ten years. Why drag it up, drop it," he begged her.

She couldn't, "but… but what if he's just stuck behind the veil, lost- not dead but not living either, sort of frozen."

"Hermione please – it's finished"

"No but…"

"This conversation is over. It is not as if you got along with him or even liked him," Remus said heatedly.

Hermione recoiled like she'd been slapped; perhaps she went a bit far but there was no needed to say she didn't care. Hermione had tried so hard for Harry's sake to find someway of recovering Sirius, especially after she found a small box of trinkets hidden in a wardrobe at Grimmauld Place. She had given the box to Remus but for some reason she kept the snapshot of a seventeen year old Sirius. She told herself it was incentive, to encourage her to find the solution. She had taken out the photograph of Sirius so many times during sixth year that it bordered on obsession. Eventually she had no choice but to give in. She had exams and a war to worry about – she had read everything about The Veil she could land her hands on, but there was no answer. She put away the picture and tried to forget it. Even now, she knew exactly in which book and where on the bookshelf the photo was kept. She cared, possibly more than she realised.

"How the hell would you know how I feel? And anyway, I was right about the James thing; I only said it to be a good friend."

Remus found it very difficult to rein in his anger. There was a full moon soon and his wolfish side was aching for a spar. "Well something's should never be said."

"Oh I'm not a good friend now… what on earth was that suppose to mean?"

"Maybe he'd never have…"

"Have what?" Hermione interrupted slamming shut her book.

"Have gone to the ministry that night."

"He knew." She felt sick, her stomach was twisting. How had he found out, had someone told him?

"Yes."

"How?"

"I am not sure, but he felt guilty about it and wanted to prove to Harry that he cared."

"No-one ever doubted it," she said softly trying to overlook the dull ache in her throat.

"I know, but Sirius well… he rushed in without thinking. He thought with his heart not his head."

"Oh Merlin… what did I do?"

"Nothing," Remus whispered.

Hermione paled, "I have to get away," she said it more to herself. "Remus there's a book I have to pick up in Yorkshire, I was going to apparate – but maybe your right, I should take a break. Will you look after the shop for a week?"

"I can't"

"Why not?"

"There's a full moon on Thursday."

Her mind was a muddle, had Sirius heard her? "I'll get someone to cover for you on the weekend – can you work the rest?"

"Yes"

"Ok, I'd better go; I'll see you next week." Hermione left still in shock. 'How did he find out?'

"KEVIN!" yelled Hermione as soon as she got home. The conversation with Remus still hadn't sunken in, in its entirety.

"You shrieked," Kevin replied grinning.

"I need a favour from you," she started sweetly.

"What is it Honey?"

"I have to go away for a week, could you look after the shop on Thursday to Saturday?" inquired Hermione as she twisted a lose lock of Kevin's hair around her finger.

Kevin stalled her hand. "What about Remus?" he asked.

"I already said he could have the time off"

"Herm sweetheart I think he's taking advantage of your kindness – he's always taking time off.

"And you know perfectly well why." She hated it when he called her Herm."Can you do it for me, please?"

"I have plans though"

"Please…" she asked pouting.

"Fine," he replied laughing.

"Right I'm leaving in the morning; I'm not sure if I'll be back before you leave – but if I don't see you, have fun!!"

"Why? Where are you going now?"

"To have a long relaxing soak in the bath, unless you care to join me," she said with a mischievous grin.

Her boyfriend looked between the front door and Hermione, contemplating his decision.

Hermione borrowed her mother's car. She figured she'd spent that ridiculous amount on insurance she may as well get some use of it. She drove the long distance from London to Yorkshire. It gave her time to be by herself, time to sort out her head. Remus as always was right; she couldn't live on 'what ifs'. She'd turn over a new leaf – a clean slate – no regrets – no blaming – a new beginning. She picked up the book, it was on Celtic Shamans and Druids, and a customer has been looking for it. She was on her way home. This time alone had given her some perspective. Her policy she had tried to adopt, live life to the best, you don't know how long it is, was correct, and now she was going to do it to the best of her ability. Starting with finding Harry when she returned to London, if she missed him, surely he missed her too.

"Why throw away fourteen years of friendship," she said out loud.

'Where the hell am I,'she thought as she turned down another country road. 'I knew I shouldn't have taken that right turn, an hour ago!!'

Instead of turning back she continued along the country road, there would be a town soon or at least a house – right? She looked at the petrol gage; she still had a good bit left, and was hoping she wouldn't run out. The further she appeared to be going from York, the mistier it became. She hardly noticed the steam coming out from beneath the bonnet.

"Bugger," she exclaimed as she stopped the car. The blue metal was really hot so she used her wand to open it; she knew nothing about cars but if she had to guess, she would say it was the radiator.

"Crap, crap, crap, crap," she screamed kicking the front tyre and stubbing her front toe.

Hermione slumped down to the damp ground leaning against the tyre. She started to laugh; there was nothing else she could do. She began laughing hysterically her eyes were watering and she couldn't help thinking 'thank Merlin I cut my hair, with all this mist…' This only caused her to giggle harder. As she expressed her amusement she could feel the stress, strain, anguish flow out if her.

After trying to compose herself for a few moments she stood up to see where exactly she was. There was a small wooden signpost pointing up a dirt track. The post looked like it was decomposing and the letters written in white paint were hard to make out, it looked like 'Avery Farm'. Wrapping her Muggle coat tightly around her she sprinted up the lane until she reached an old white washed cottage. Hermione knocked on the door, a woman in her late sixties with grey hair answered.

"Hello," she addressed Hermione.

"Hello, I was wondering if I could use you phone. Only my car has broken down and I can't fix it."

"Oh you poor dear, come inside. My husband should be returning soon. I'll have him take a look at it for you."

"Thank you very much," Hermione replied walking into the cottage.

"Now you look soaked, have a seat by the fire while I get you some towels."

The woman returned handing Hermione the towels and a cup of tea.

"Thanks," said Hermione gratefully drinking the warm liquid.

"My name is Catherine, what is yours dear?"

"Hermione," she responded.

"What a lovely name. Hermione, would you care to join us for dinner?"

"Oh I couldn't intrude"

"Not a bother. Sure Charles won't look at the car till he's had his fill, you may as well join us," Catherine said kindly.

"Thank you that would be lovely. It's very kind of you," replied Hermione gratefully.

Not long after a sound at the back door altered Hermione to the others arrival.

"That'll be the boys now," Catherine said, "I expect they'll have a fierce appetite." Hermione smiled. "Follow me Hermione while I introduce you to them."

In the kitchen stood three tall men, the eldest Hermione assumed to be Charles. Beside him was a man in his early forties, light brown hair and squinty green eyes; he was introduced as Mark, her only son.

"– And this is Heathcliff," said Catherine indicating to a man in his thirties, he had medium length black hair that hung into his dark, grey eyes. He was tall and very attractive.

Hermione paused, she took a small step forward to gain a closer look at him she had to grab a chair for support and her other one shot up to her mouth, 'Sirius?'