DISCLAIMER: I would just like to take a moment and say that, though their are many discrepencies, the life of a man...what? I'm in the wrong place? Oh...er...yeah, sorry, I don't own Harry Potter. Happy now?

READ ME! Okay, this is the LAST chapter, ya'll. I told you at the beginning that this was a SHORT story. I never expected to have so many people actually like this, nor did I realize the number of threats I would get through my email for not updating. Anyways, here's the final chapter.

Chapter 5

The tears formed a steady line as they ran down her cheek. Crystal blue in colour and yet they contained no emotion. They were tears of numbness, of failure.

Hermione slowly forced herself to move away from the doorway into the study, away from the work she had been working so diligently on thinking that it would bring Sirius back. But she had failed…she had failed him.

Her feet felt heavy as she moved up the stairs, one hand gripping the railing for support. Her knees buckled slightly as a sob would rise up in her throat, only to be fought back down again.

She wouldn't trouble Harry with her pain.

She walked up the stairs and opened the door to her rooms, slipping into the darkness easily. As soon as the door closed behind her, her emotions betrayed her. One large sob built up in her throat and she collapsed to the ground, sliding down the door.

She curled her knees up to her chest, resting her head against them as she allowed her tears to overtake her. She didn't like this weakness, but she could not fight it any longer.

She closed her eyes against the world, allowing the slumber that had been beckoning to overcome her. Her head lolled back against the hard wood of the door, exhaustion finally winning.

It would be late morning before she would finally stir from her position on the floor and even then she still just wanted to sleep. It took her a moment or two to finally figure out what had awoken her.

Someone was calling her name.

She forced herself to keep her eyes open as she tried to rise. It would take her three times to gain her balance and keep herself from tumbling over.

She placed one hand to her forehead. She felt weak and tired, her bones ached terribly and she just didn't feel good at all. Maybe she was getting the flu…

"Hermione!"

"Coming," she tried to say but it came out as more of a whisper. She tried it again and was surprised when her voice sounded raspy. "I'm here."

"Hermione!" She finally recognized it to be Harry. "Come on, Hermione, where are you? Answer me, Hermione. I know you're here, I can feel you."

She paused momentarily at that. He could feel her? What did that mean?

Ignoring it, she repeated, "I'm here," as her hand reached out to grasp the doorknob in a wobbling hand. She managed to get it open, though, and found herself in Harry's arms.

He caught her just as she went to tumble over. "Come on, Hermione, stay awake. You have to stay awake. I'll get you to the hospital."

She shook her head weakly. "No, no…I'm fine, just…tired."

His green eyes scanned over her face, a million or so emotions flittering over his as he muttered an oath and swung her up into his arms. "Hermione, you're sick. We've got to get you to the doctor…"

"Harry, I failed…I failed."

He glanced down at her. Any other person in his position would have thought her delirious, but he knew what she was talking about.

He also knew that she hadn't failed.

"Stay with me, Hermione, you can't give up now, not when you've done so much."

Her empty brown eyes met his as she somehow found the strength to keep them open. "No," she denied in her weak voice, "I failed. I tried, I wanted so much…"

Her voice died and her eyes closed, her mind slipping easily into sleep. He could feel the sickness claiming her on the inside, he could feel her body weakening.

He was at the bottom of the stairs before their visitor made an entrance. He took one look at Hermione's limp body and instantly rushed to Harry's side. "What's wrong with her? Where are you taking her? What do you need me to do?"

"She's sick, I'm taking her to St. Mungo's, and right now I just need you to follow me," Harry answered in order as he brushed past the taller man and walked over to the fireplace. "But put an illusion charm on yourself, we don't need any unnecessary questions right now."

The other man nodded and quickly did as Harry instructed. As he watched the younger man enter the fireplace, he could only hope for her recovery.

He was not going to lose her for the third time in his life.

XoXoX

St. Mungo's, a wizarding hospital in London, wasn't as busy as Harry had once saw it. During the long years of the war, the halls had been filled with injured people who needed medical attention. Some of them had been Order members, others were just casualties who really had no part in the war.

Harry had seen many fatalities while just sitting in the waiting room during the war. There were too many who needed treatment, then, and not enough Healers. Some hadn't been able to hold out until a Healer could see them.

But after the war, that had changed. Life had once again returned to what it had once been and fewer people frequented the hospital. You saw the normal ailments now in the hallway, not war wounds.

Harry was currently sitting next to a man of fifty with salt and pepper hair and dark green eyes. Of course, the man didn't normally look like that but only Harry knew that.

The man leaned over and asked softly. "What was wrong with her, Harry? Please, I know you know so don't lie to me."

Harry sighed. He had been expecting this question ever since they had first signed in and rushed her off to a private room. "She's sick," he answered. "She's pushed herself too far this time and her body became weak, allowing a muggle virus to infect her."

The other man nodded slowly as he took it in. "Will she…will she be alright?"

"With some good medicine in her body and a little bit of rest, the sickness will past," Harry said slowly. Then, "But there's something else wrong with her…something only she can heal."

"What's that?"

"She's thrown herself into a frenzy trying to complete her mission and last night, when she thought she failed, she fell into a depression of sorts." Harry touched a finger to his scar. "She wanted so much to succeed and when she thought she failed, it was just too much."

"But she didn't…"

"We know that, but she doesn't." Harry looked at the man sitting beside of her. "You're the only one that's going to be able to reach her, to make her understand."

The man chewed over the younger man's words, his green eyes flashing for a second back to their normal colour as a feeling rose up inside of him. "I love her," he acknowledged, more to himself than to Harry, "and I'll do whatever it takes to help her."

"Good," was all Harry was able to get out before the Healer in charge of Hermione walked out of the door and towards them. He wasn't smiling, they noticed, and nor did he have that swagger in his step they often did when they were congratulating themselves.

"Mr. Potter," he said, ignoring the other's presence, "we have gave her medicine to fight off her illness and to allow her body to recover."

"I'm sensing a but in there."

"But she's not responding to anything." The Healer shifted nervously. Who would want to be the one to tell the saviour of the wizarding world that his best friend may not fully be herself again. "She's suffering from fatigue. It's obvious that she's been without several days of sleep or proper nourishment. She also keeps crying out in her sleep, something about failing and a journal. Do you know what that may be about?"

Harry looked at his companion who answered, "I do. Do you think I could go in there for a minute and see her? I promise that I won't do anything that I'm not supposed to."

The Healer looked towards Harry for confirmation- which may seem like an odd thing to do but Harry was the Boy-Who-Lived and he felt that he must receive permission for some reason- and received a nod in affirmation.

"Go on in," he finally said, stepping aside. "I must warn you, though, that you probably won't get any reaction from her. She's retreated within herself."

The other man nodded and stepped past Harry and the Healer into the room. As soon as the door shut, her performed a locking spell and a silencing charm. Then, as he turned to the inert form of Hermione, he allowed the illusion charm to drop.

XoXoX

She was dreaming.

She was in a dark field outlined in a glowing green light. She could make out the faint outline of trees past the green glow. There was no moon nor stars in the sky.

There were dark figures heading out of the green light now, cloaked figures who formed a ring around her. They advanced together, the ring slowly getting smaller and smaller…

She turned from side to side as she sought an exit but found that her feet would not obey her command. It was like they were frozen to the ground.

Her knees were shaking uncontrollably and she just wanted to give in and allow herself to collapse, but she withheld. She must not bend before them…

They were almost upon her now, their hoods pulled low so that she could not make out any of their features. Their cloaks were so bulky that she was unable to make out their shape or size as well.

"Who are you? What do you want?" she cried out, trying to keep her fear from showing in her voice.

The green light was licking higher into the sky and she could see more in the darkness. There were about thirty of them surrounding her, their steps slow and steady. It was then that she noticed something strange.

None of them had a wand.

They completely surrounded her, their shoulders knocking together as they loomed over her. Her eyes moved along them, searching for any sign of their identity as the fear fought to consume her.

She closed her eyes, her mind drifting back to the war when she had stood bravely before Voldemort alongside Harry and Ron. So many had fell around them, so many of their friends, but they had fought on, determined to bring hope to the rest of the wizarding world.

She had been fighting for others then, now she had to fight for herself.

With a sense of clarity, she opened her eyes and gazed at the one directly in front of her. "I am not afraid of you." She spoke clearly, her eyes not wavering. "I'll no longer be afraid."

"It is not I that you should fear," the figure spoke calmly and she had a feeling that she had heard that voice before. "It is yourself."

That shocked her for a second before she quickly gathered her senses again. "Myself? What do I have to fear about myself?"

A figure to her left spoke up, a female voice this time. "Hermione, you have always been brave and smart and everyone knows that. You have always put others' needs before your own, but now you must meet your own."

Another voice joined the first two. "You have always been afraid of failure. Don't you see, Hermione, that failure leads us on to be greater, to succeed. Without failure there would be no determination, no self-improvement."

Hermione could feel the tears stinging at her eyes but she pushed them away, refusing to let them fall. "But I didn't only fail myself this time, I failed him, I failed Harry."

The figure in front of her spoke again. "But you didn't fail, Hermione. Everything that you were supposed to complete that night you did."

"You need to realize that you deserve happiness, even if it isn't in the form that you expected it to come in. Remember, magic works in mysterious ways."

Hermione looked down at her hands and saw the visible ink stains from her endless work. She saw the black lines flowing over her skin, how they seemed to run forever and ever until they eventually crashed into each other.

"I once thought that I would be someone who people would revere when I grew up. Instead, I'm just a girl who wants to change the world." She looked up at them and smiled weakly. "Once upon a time, I just wanted to live and work, but now I want something else. I want what I felt when I was talking to him."

"Then go get it," the female voice said as she reached up and lowered her hood.

Hermione's eyes grew wide. "Hannah?" The person in front of her lowered their hood. "Neville?" She looked around her as they all lowered their hoods.

She knew them all.

There was Fred Weasley, Bill Weasley, Dean Thomas, Lavender Brown, Susan Bones, and so many more she knew who had died during the war. Even Viktor Krum stood amongst them, smiling gently at her as he once did oh so long ago.

Neville took a step forward and took her hand. "Hermione, never in all the years that we knew each other have I ever seen you fail."

She shook her head. "But, Neville, I did…"

"No, you just don't understand," he said, "yet. But you will."

Fred stepped forward and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Hermione, you can't beat yourself up over this. You have to continue to live, you have to fight." He grinned. "You've always been a fighter so don't disappoint me now. Besides, who's going to keep nagging Ron if you don't go back, eh?"

She smiled at him. "I do, don't I." She took a deep breath. "I can't give up, I know. For a while, it just seemed easier than living."

"It usually is," Lavender said gently.

Hermione looked at them. "Thank you, all of you. I think I finally understand."

"Go back, Hermione," Bill commanded. "Close your eyes and fight the darkness. Rise out of it and go back into the light."

Hermione glanced around at them all one last time before closing her eyes, taking a deep breath, and plunging into the dark pit that waited before her.

XoXoX

She was surrounded by a bright white light when her brown eyes slowly blinked open. It was only when she heard the soft and steady beating of a machine did she realize that Harry must have taken her to the hospital.

She felt someone stir beside of her and turned her head. She had expected to be greeted by the site of Harry sitting beside of her in one of those uncomfortable chairs.

But she wasn't.

"Sirius?"

Her voice was weak, she knew, the raspy sound of it still startling her, but it was enough. His grey eyes opened at the sound of her voice and a smile instantly appeared on his face.

He wasn't completely like she remembered him before he had fell through the veil. His hair was shorter, just off his shoulders, and his skin wasn't as sunken in and pale. Actually, he looked…younger.

"Hermione," he let out in a soft breath, his hand coming up to touch her cheek.

She smiled and reached up to catch his hands. "Sirius." The voice was more like her own now, more confidence in it as she stared at the man sitting before her.

"You don't know how worried you've made us, love." He moved to sit down beside of her on the bed, his face peering down into hers as his hand continued to stroke her skin.

Suddenly, she realized that he wasn't supposed to be there…she had failed… "How?" she asked softly but found his finger on her lips.

"Let's not worry about the details just yet," he told her, his voice tender. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, letting them linger there for a second or two before pulling back. "For now, just close your eyes and rest."

She wanted to talk to him, to look at him, to touch him, but she soon found herself obeying his soft command as her eyes drifted shut and sleep embraced her. She would never know that he had stayed by her side the entire night…just like he would remain there for the rest of their life.

Ending

Two months had passed since then. The return of Sirius Black into the wizarding world had gone over relatively easy. Since no one but the three knew how he had came back, a number of rumours flew around about how he had escaped death.

None of them- Harry, Hermione, or Sirius- really questioned the full extent of what had brought him back from the veil. They knew, though, that magic worked in mysterious ways and that the most powerful magic was love.

That was all they needed to know.

Love, ladies and gentlemen, is a truly marvellous thing. Love does not care for a trivial thing such as time. It extends over the years. It ignores the small prejudices imbedded into a certain class since birth. To love, there is no such thing as pureblood and mudblood.

Maybe it was a miracle that brought two very different people together, creating an unbreakable bond between them that would bring them back together despite the things working against them. Or maybe it was fate that the two would meet through a journal long forgotten.

Whatever it was, it was magic and it happened in the Black House.

And so it's over...I just like to take a moment and say thank you for reading and reviewing. THANK YOU.

Now, as some of you have found out, I often like to put little 'sneak peeks' into my LJ. So, if you want a sneak peek of CY (b/c there's one up) go over to my LJ.

Much love,

MiZZ AmAyA