A/N: this was written for the Restricted Sections free-for-all fest! You can find the other works on Ao3!
Thank you to my alphabet FaeOrabel and cheerleader feelingofthesea!
weekly updates :)
Chapter One
Hermione sighed at her desk as she poured over another Arithmancy book. The numbers and charts blurred together, so she snapped the leather binding shut with a dull thud. She'd been at this for nearly three hours—could practically see the finish line. But even Hermione knew when her brain needed time to rest.
"Unspeakable Granger," the soft voice of her boss, Head Unspeakable Almeda Sterling, called from her doorway. "You look like you could use a break."
Hermione stood from her desk and rounded it, grateful for the chance to stretch her legs and back. "I'm nearly done with this portion, but yes, a break sounds nice."
"How does a trip down to the Death Chamber sound? We need the daily report of the Veil. I know Hawkes usually does it, but he's out today."
"Of course, I'd be happy to help." Hermione took the offered clipboard and Quick Quotes Quill. "I'll have it for you shortly."
Sterling nodded and left, returning to her office. Hermione set out to the stairwell at the end of the corridor and down to the Death Chamber below. The walk provided her legs with much-needed movement, her knees aching. She really should stand more often; she'd probably been in the same position for two hours straight.
The soft glow of the Veil loomed below her as she entered the room. Hermione shivered as she passed through to the rocky terrain. She hadn't been in this room since fifth-year when Sirius died; her work as an Unspeakable rarely included the Veil, instead focusing more on numbers and research.
After returning to Hogwarts to complete her seventh year, Hermione first started at the Ministry in the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. She thought she could make a difference, change so many laws and lives. But after being there for three years, and with nothing to show for it except a pitiable law forcing house-elves to receive compensation, Hermione left.
Something about the Department of Mysteries had always interested her, called to her. Perhaps it was the allure of not knowing everything they did, or perhaps it was that she could expand her own knowledge base and be paid for it. Either way, Hermione had signed a magical non-disclosure agreement and shadowed the department for a day.
What she saw there made her apply for a position immediately.
She distinctly remembered when she saw the Unspeakables brewing an experimental potion or testing new spells they had created themselves. Hermione couldn't remember the last time something had tugged at her so hard, had made her wish that she could do it, too. Now, here she was, two years later, and had already done more for the Wizarding Community in the first six months as an Unspeakable than three years in the Magical Creatures Department.
Her heels clicked against the stone floors as she approached the looming dais, the black curtain inside swirling gently. The clipboard and Quick Quotes Quill hovered beside her, and Hermione pulled out her wand to begin diagnostics. She ignored the memories that flashed through her mind as she walked around it. It had been so long since she thought of that day, so long since she watched Sirius fade into the dark.
"Hermione..."
She froze, shock radiating through her body at the gentle voice that emitted from inside the Veil. The quill's scratching stopped abruptly, and the only sound now was a soft hum emitting from the dark depths. Hermione peered closer to it, eyes narrowing as she looked in, careful not to get too close.
Then, with no warning, the face of Sirius Black peered back at her.
Hermione stumbled, her heel catching on a crevice and sending her tumbling to the rough floor. Bloody scuff marks appearing on her palms as her hands scratched the uneven surface, all of her weight falling onto them. Hermione paid them no mind. Her eyes never left the shadowed face of Sirius as he continued to stare at her.
"Hermione..."
Just as quickly as he appeared, Sirius vanished without a trace. The Veil returned to its ghostly quiet, but Hermione could still hear the phantom echo of it in her ears. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as her brain raced to catch up with what she just witnessed. If Sirius was dead, there was no plausible explanation for what just happened. Unless...
Sirius wasn't dead.
Ignoring the throb of her shredded hands, Hermione pushed herself to her feet and raced upstairs, straight to her boss's office. She didn't even bother to knock as she shoved open the heavy wooden door.
"Granger, what is it?" Sterling looked at her with surprised eyes—no doubt Hermione appeared practically insane.
"The Veil—" Hermione paused to catch her breath. "Sirius Black was in the Veil!"
The surprised look vanished to one of pity, "Unfortunately, it is a common thing to see dead people through the smoke, Granger."
Hermione shook her head, pacing on the other side of Sterling's desk. Hands reaching forward to grip the back of a chair her boss had for visitors, Hermione used it to keep her legs from giving out. Her hands throbbed from the tight grip she had on the patterned fabric. "But ma'am. He spoke to me. He looked at me."
The shock was back. "You're sure?" She stood in a rush as Hermione nodded. "Merlin, that changes things. He knew you were there."
Hermione followed Sterling out the door and back to the Veil. It looked as it did when Hermione left, quiet and still.
"I walked here," Hermione explained, returning to the spot she'd been in when Sirius called for her. "And heard my name. Then he appeared, and I fell, and he called for me again. He made direct eye contact when he did."
Sterling inspected the Veil, rounding the curtained archway several times in silence; the only sound was her clipped steps. She halted abruptly and turned to Hermione with a resolute face. "I want you to find out what happened and why. Research to begin immediately. Your previous tasks are placed on hold."
Hermione nodded silently, her body sagging as the adrenaline left her body. Her hands throbbed painfully, and dried blood pulled at her scraped skin. As she and Sterling left the Death Chamber, Hermione turned back once to glance at the Veil. It was still quiet, and she briefly wondered if it was a figment of her imagination, her memories leaking into the real world.
No. No, she had seen it. She had heard it.
And she was going to find out why.
When Hermione returned to her office, she applied some dittany to her hands. The potion made quick work of her battered skin, repairing it to as good as new. Finally able to hold a quill, she sent an Interdepartmental Note to Taggert, the Bookkeeper for the Unspeakable Department, requesting any books he had on the Veil.
As the folded paper zoomed off, Hermione plopped into her seat with a sigh. A headache pounded at the back of her eyes, and she rubbed her temple to quell the ache. After a few moments of collecting her thoughts, Hermione cleared her desk and took out fresh parchment. She wrote everything that had happened, everything she knew, and the questions she still had.
Why did Sirius call for her? Why hadn't he shown himself before this? Was he still alive?
A knock pulled Hermione from her scribblings. Taggert stood at the door, two large books in hand.
"Ello, Unspeakable Granger. Got the books you ordered right here."
"Thank you, Taggert," Hermione said as she stood and took them from his outstretched hands. The tomes were much heavier than she expected, and they thudded loudly on the wood of her desk.
"'Fraid we don't have much on the Veil. Quite the mysterious anomaly that," Taggert said with a shrug. "But hopefully, those help."
Hermione sat back in her chair, excitement coursing through her as she pulled the first book to her. "I'm sure they will. Thank you."
He left with a nod, shutting her door tightly and encasing Hermione in a tense silence. She flipped open the cover of the book, glancing through the index. It listed an array of things, but she found 'The Veil' marked page 479. It was only seven pages long and listed some brief explanations of its origins and why it existed.
All of it she already knew; it was as old as the Ministry itself, it was a one-way door to the afterlife. Finally, it was common to hear murmuring and whispers of dead relatives, but what Hermione had experienced was not common.
After reading through the seven pages, and finding nothing of use, Hermione grabbed the second book. It was much older than the previous; the pages battered and weathered. It was much smaller too, but the title of the book gave Hermione hope.
The Findings and Research of the Veil by Unspeakable Oliver McKaide.
Hermione's brows rose in surprise at the date marked inside the book. 1642. This book was over three hundred years old! Renewed energy coursed through Hermione as she carefully flipped the pages. It was all handwritten scribblings, a cross between a diary and actual research. She lost herself in the words of Oliver McKaide, and as she turned to page 10, her heart stopped.
We pulled Davies from the Veil today. It had taken months of planning, but thus it had worked. Unspeakable Davies had fallen through two years ago after the Veil had claimed him with its wicked murmurings and whispers. Unspeakable Yaxley and I had spent all of our time and energy on research and testing. And now we've done it.
Yaxley. A relative of Corbon Yaxley? The piqued Hermione's interest, but she would look into it later. Right now, she needed to focus on Sirius.
The continued pages explained the potion and spell they used, what conditions needed to be met in order for it to work. The person had to have died by falling through the Veil and required at least one blood relative alive to create the potion. But it could be done.
Hermione's mouth dried as she looked over the potion ingredients and steps. Most of the required supplies were extremely rare and expensive, or hard to acquire.
Fresh vials from a blood-relative must be added immediately at certain intervals of the potion-making and during the performative spell.
That gave Hermione pause. Who was still alive that was related to Sirius? Andromeda, obviously. Teddy...
Narcissa and Draco Malfoy.
Hermione shut the book closed and rested her throbbing head atop it as she thought. She couldn't ask Andromeda for blood, the woman was nearly on her deathbed. Teddy was too young to help her with a potion and spell this complex. Hermione could never ask Narcissa.
That only left Draco. Of course, it had to be Draco Malfoy.
Groaning lightly, Hermione sat up and tugged at her curls. There had to be someone else; Draco could not be the only viable option. Her mind ran through the Black family tree. She and Harry had stared at it so often when they were in Grimmauld that, at his point, she'd memorised it.
No. Draco was the only option.
Hermione collected her findings, notes, and the old book, and took them to Sterling's office.
"Interesting," Sterling said as she looked over the jotted notes and book. "I suppose this could work... But with Draco Malfoy..."
She continued to mumble to herself—a regular occurrence—as she flipped through the book. Gently, Sterling closed it and threaded her fingers together, wrinkles forming between her brows as she thought. Hermione sat awkwardly across from her, itching out of her skin to speak.
"I'm interested to put this to the test." Sterling's firm voice broke through the tense silence. "You will contact Mr Malfoy and produce this potion, but he will have to sign a contract."
Hermione's blood ran cold. "He won't just agree to do it, ma'am."
"I'll speak to Minister Shacklebolt," Sterling offered, handing Hermione back her notes and book. "I'm sure we can work something out. Everyone is swayable."
Hermione stood and collected the proffered papers. She knew there was nothing she could do to change Sterling's mind. Nor did she want to. If there were even a slight chance this could work, she'd take it.
She wanted Sirius back, and Draco Malfoy was going to help her do it.