DISCLAIMER: Once upon a time, there was this young boy named Harry Potter. He lived with me for a while in which we spent time together, and then sadly a woman by the name of J.K. Rowling came around and demanded that I return him to her.

Chapter 4

The papers strewn about disastrously made the already small room seem a lot smaller in retrospect. A number of empty ink bottles of every colour imaginable were spread across the room. Broken and dull quills, muggle pens, calculating devices, a good number of books on a range of different topics, and other such contraptions could be found in the room as well.

Hermione sat in the middle of it, dark rings under her eyes, scribbling furiously on the parchments scattered in front of her. She would occasionally pause in her work to take a sip of the large mug of cold tea in front of her. It had been hot once upon a time…about seventeen hours ago.

If anyone had taken a real close look at her, they would have noticed that her eyes looked haunted, the brown orbs seeing without really seeing. However, her two best friends were out of the country for Merlin knows how long and Ginny probably wouldn't stop by for another week or so, so really there was no one who would notice the difference.

So, she really wasn't worried about someone stumbling across her in her delirious state. In fact, she wasn't really worried about anything at all. Truth be known, she wasn't really aware of anything but the task before her.

It had been seven day since her last conversation with Sirius Black, the last forever unless she succeeded. As soon as she had shut the journal for that last time, she had come to an unconscious decision.

She was going to bring Sirius back.

She had privately acknowledged that it wasn't going to be an easy task. That was one of the reasons she hadn't wanted Ginny to come over. She was afraid that the redhead would be able to talk her out of what she was doing.

She paused momentarily to stare at the figures she had just wrote on the parchment in front of her- no room left to write anymore- and mentally calculated the figures in her head.

Something was off, she knew, but what?

Various Arithmancy problems raced through her head as she put together different equations and formats. If she moved that there…those figures there…maybe switching those two…

No, that wouldn't work there. The figures would just unbalance each other and they would…

She slapped a hand to her forehead and groaned. How could she have been so stupid as to not see what was right there in front of her? It was that simple. All she had to do was…

"Hermione?"

The bushy haired witch visibly stiffened at the sound of the voice…his voice. He was here, behind her, now…but why?

After the initial shock of his voice wore off, she slowly turned around to face her late night visitor. She hadn't expected to see him- he looked different. "Hello Harry."

He let out an audible oath as he quickly shortened the distance between them. He cupped her face in his hands, his emerald eyes sweeping over her. "Merlin, Hermione, what have you done to yourself?"

Hermione offered him a very feeble, very unconvincing smile. "Nothing," she answered with a dismissive shrug, "I just caught up in work and I sort of forgot about everything else."

He raised a brow and asked, "Even life?"

She chuckled half-heartedly. "I guess I have…," she muttered, scratching her head lightly. "I'm sorry, Harry, I guess I have been neglecting…hey, why are you here?"

He grinned at her as he released her face, propping himself against the desk. "Is that the best 'welcome home' I can get? Here I thought that you'd be glad to see me."

Hermione felt herself smiling even as she rose from her chair, wrapping her arms around Harry's neck and hugging him tightly. "Welcome home, Harry, I've missed you more than you could possibly imagine." She leaned back. "How was that?"

He laughed. "That was perfect."

"Now, what are you doing here?"

"I'm visiting one of my best friends after just arriving by plane from New Zealand," he answered. "Even though I'm dead tired, I drug myself over here to see you."

"A plane?" she asked confused. "Why in Merlin's name didn't you take a portkey like a normal and sane wizard, eh?"

"Because Ron wouldn't stop badgering me until I agreed to take it back with him," Harry grumbled though he still had a small smile on his face. "He's changed his tune now."

"Jet lag?" she questioned.

"Yep," he replied with a large grin now. "But though I can now bask in his misery, I'm suffering from the exact same thing. I'm fighting the urge to just go to sleep."

"Poor baby," she cooed, her eyes glinting mischievously as she patted his cheeks. Then, she softened, "Would you like to stay here for the night? I've fixed most of the rooms up so you can have whatever one you want."

"I think I'll take you up on that offer." He hugged her close, then, his breath tickling her throat. "What's wrong, Hermione? I can tell something is."

"Nothing's wrong," she instantly denied. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Your last letter," was his reply. "You didn't sound like yourself. That's why I hurried and finished so I could come back and check on you."

Hermione pulled away from him and turned away. She pressed a hand to her forehead. "It's really nothing, Harry," she lied. "I'm just…working on some stuff."

He looked around the room slowly with a single appraising brow raised. "I can tell that." He leaned over the desk and picked up a piece of parchment, scanning over it quickly. "So, what are you working on?"

She plucked the parchment from his fingers. "Stuff," she answered vaguely with just a little bit of defensiveness in her tone.

"My, my, you sure are a talkative one this evening," he remarked sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest and watching her.

Hermione grimaced. "Sorry, Harry, lack of sleep."

And just like that, she dismissed the whole subject. She was sure that that feeble excuse would explain her whole attitude. Which, in part, it did since she had been suffering from fatigue (she was sure) and had been forcing herself to stay awake.

He continued to watch her, his green eyes unnerving after a while. However, he only sighed and shook his head sadly. "Hermione, you know that I would do anything to help you, right? You can trust me."

Hermione smiled and wrapped her arms around him, her head resting against his chest. "I know, Harry, and I'm sorry. This is just something that I have to do on my own."

She leaned back and smiled up at him. "Don't worry, though, I think I have it finally figured out. Tomorrow, you'll understand. Tonight, just accept that what I'm doing, well, it'll be good for a lot of people, you especially."

"Alright, you win…for tonight. Tomorrow, I'm going to expect some answers."

She gasp in mock surprise. "Are you giving up so quickly? Wow, I expected a little more fight out of you."

"Any other time, I would be willing to oblige you, but right now I just want a warm bed." He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Night, Hermione. Try to get some sleep."

She watched as he mounted the stairs until he was out of view. Only then did she pick up three sheets of parchment and her cloak, heading out of the door with a look of determination on her face.

She only prayed that this would work…

XoXoX

The Ministry of Magic was usually a very busy place, especially after the war. Usually it was hard to walk through the halls without having to squeeze through the people. However, at night it was a completely different story.

It was completely empty.

Of course, there was one single person walking down through the halls, sticking to the shadows and being careful not to set off any wards. Since she had helped set up most of them, she figured that they would be relatively easy for her to get past.

She walked down the long hallway, her destination the single door in front of her.

As she walked, her mind went over the steps she would have to follow for her plan to work, if it even worked at all. According to all of her calculations, it should, but then magic worked in mysterious ways.

She walked through the door without even knowing it and continued on through the next door, her mind not even registering her surroundings or the fact that room had automatically known the room that she needed.

However, it was not the room she had been heading towards.

When she heard the sound of the door slamming shut behind her, Hermione finally took notice of her surroundings and was shocked by them. She was in a room of pure light, bright light that was blinding.

She turned around to go back out the door but it was no longer there. She drew her wand, intending to do a revealing spell, but found that it did not work.

"As you may have gathered, magic does not work in here."

Hermione jumped as she spun around, her body instantly going into a fight stance since she couldn't use magic. She almost fell over, though, at the person standing behind her.

She pointed at him, her face disbelieving, and said, "You're dead."

His blue eyes sparkled as the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. "Yes, Hermione, I am dead, but then, in some places I'm not. Such as here."

He opened his arms and gestured around to the empty space around them. She followed the movement of his hands and gazed around slowly. "And where exactly is here?" she questioned.

"This is a room in the Ministry that, up until now, has remained lock to all but those who needed its guidance," he answered, folding his hands neatly behind his back.

"I don't need guidance," she replied defiantly. "I know exactly what I have to do. So, if you could just let me out of here I'll be on my way…"

"You came here with a particular someone in mind, did you not?" His blue eyes were twinkling once more as he strode slowly towards her. "You came here determined to free someone who was once imprisoned here by a greater force than you understand."

Hermione nodded somewhat hesitantly and answered with a soft, "Yes."

He stared at her for a moment or two. Finally, he said, "Your plan will not work."

She looked up at him shocked. "What are you talking about? I checked all of the figures multiple times…it has to work!" she cried out in desperation. In truth, she was out of ideas. This was the last possible way that she could think of.

He shook his head. "No, Hermione, it won't." He stopped when he was right in front of her and looked about them. "To complete your task, you must understand something- a force that for a long time you have been afraid of. That force makes up this room."

"I don't understand…"

"Think, Hermione," he urged, taking her hands up in his. "This room, this power exists in everyone though in some it remains dormant through most of their mortal life. It is what drives up, but we do not realize it. It is what drives you."

Hermione continued to shake her head. "I don't know…"

"Hermione, why did you even waste your time to save Mr. Black?" he pressed. "Why did you come here at this time of night when you could surely be spending your time with Harry now that he is back in the country."

Hermione looked at him, understanding in her eyes and something else…something powerful. "Because I love him, sir. I love Sirius."

He smiled. "That, Hermione, is the only thing that can bring him back. This," he gestured, "is emotion, this is feeling, this is love. This is what compelled you to save Sirius, and this is the only thing that can save him. Your formulas will not work."

"But how do I save him, sir?"

He grinned, his eyes still twinkling behind the half moon spectacles as a phoenix rose from behind him to rest on his shoulder. "By loving him," he answered as Fawkes suddenly shot up from his shoulder and burst into glorious flames.

She had to shield her eyes against the sudden burst of flames and light. The flames seemed to lick around her, wrapping her in its embrace. There was no heat, surprising, only this warm sensation that filled her from her head to the tips of her toes.

When the light finally dimmed enough to where she was brave enough to open her eyes back up, Hermione noticed that neither Albus Dumbledore or Fawkes stood before her. She also noticed that she was no longer in the Ministry of Magic.

She was in the Black House.

XoXoX

Harry James Potter considered himself a very perceptive soul. He had been somewhat in tune to people's feelings since right before the final battle when he had been preparing himself for battle and had accidentally messed up a potion, causing it to blow up and spill all over him.

After he had slept off the initial effects of the potion, he had discovered that he had the ability to read people's emotions, sort of like an empath. He didn't tell anyone, though. No, that was one special power he kept to himself.

However, it was because of this ability of his that he knew something was badly wrong with Hermione. He could see in it the way her eyes were dull with loss of something, how her body slumped dejectedly, and he could feel how her mind was on the brink of giving up.

When he had first read her last letter, he had felt her pain in the writing. She was suffering from something, some loss, and he knew that she would undoubtedly shut up herself unless someone was there to help her.

He had trouble convincing Ron, though, that they had to hurry up with their mission without revealing that little fact about himself. He had managed to in the end with a little threat of leaving the redhead behind, not that he would of course. He had planned on dragging Ron all the way back to England if he didn't agree.

And now he was back and he had conformation of her state. She looked a little worse for wear and had been skirting around the issue. He had gave in to her, though, and allowed her a small victory in agreeing to wait for the morning to discuss it.

But now that he was done with his shower and heard no movement downstairs, he wasn't sure that that was the best thing to do. Sure enough, when he descended the stairs in a pair of boxers and an oversized shirt, she was no where to be seen, neither was her cloak.

He ran back up the stairs, peeking into various doors as he went to see if she was in one of those. "Hermione!" he shouted frantically. He walked past his old rooms, the rooms he was currently occupying, and on down the hall.

He stopped, though, when an odd feeling suddenly hit him from behind one of the doors, a door that had always remained closed even when Sirius owned the house. It was a feeling off old, of new…of something more powerful too.

Love.

He turned to the door to see a faint light shining under it. He lifted a hand and hesitantly touched it to the wood, feeling the warmth radiate through him from within.

Yes, definitely love.

He grasped the doorknob firmly in his hand and twisted it, pushing open the door with all his might since an incredible force seemed to be pushing back against it. The light was near blinding but the gentle licks of the flames now issuing from within encouraged him.

When he finally managed to get the door all the way open, the light went out and the flames extinguished. He blinked against the sudden loss of light.

"Hermione?"

But the figure that stood before him was not Hermione. No, the figure before him was a familiar one, if not a little different from the last time that he saw him.

"Hello Harry."

You all know what I want so I'm just going to leave you to it :D. Oh, stop by my LJ to see the awesome layout that was done for me by the wonderful ninetimesten or Raspberri13. Really, it's quite awesome.

Cheerios and Spaghetti O's,

MiZZ AmAyA