Two years seemed like it passed in an instant and dragged on for eternity. Hermione hadn't planned on spending two years of her life completely engulfed in her work; she thought she'd quickly find an answer to her research. But instead, she spent two years almost delirious from lack of sleep and even more alone than she thought possible. Hermione hadn't meant to become so obsessive, so one-track minded, but she couldn't ignore what had happened on her first day with the veil. If it were alive, the possibilities for working with the veil would be endless; the potential answers she could find were more addictive than any drug. She just wanted to know what was beyond that opaque veil, what had truly happened to Sirius when he fell. It was a childish, obsessive, and altogether unhealthy project, but she couldn't leave it unfinished.

"You don't have to avoid every Sunday dinner just because of Ronald," Ginny's voice pulled Hermione from her thoughts on work. She wouldn't admit it, but for a few moments, she forgot she was having tea with her friend; her mind had such tunnel vision on her project that sometimes the world just fell away.

"I know, Gin," Hermione groaned; all of the Weasleys wanted her back around the Burrow regardless of how she felt about it.

"Mom is really worried about you," Her friend responded with an appraising glance, "And I can't really blame her for being worried."

"Thanks, Gin," Hermione bit back with a frown; she wasn't unaware that she looked worse for wear due to all her time at the Ministry, "Work has just been busy lately."

"You look almost dead, Hermione!" Ginny was heated now, her tea pushed away and forgotten on the table, "No job is worth all of this! You look almost as bad as you did after the war."

"Back off, Ginny." Hermione's voice was hard and cold now; she was sick of everyone's constant concern and prying.

Even if she could tell them about her research, she wouldn't. They wouldn't understand; they never could. They were like a second family to her, but they viewed the world in black and white. With her work cemented in a world of grey, she knew that she was growing apart from them. It hurt to think about, but since her start in the Department of Mysteries, she'd been growing away from them all.

"Hermione-"

"Ginny, no. I understand you are concerned; you all are." Hermione set her teacup down roughly, "But I'm an adult woman. I can take care of myself."

"But-"Ginny was still red in the face, and Hermione could see her shoulders straighten as she prepared for her fight. Hermione wanted none of it.

Without so much as a second thought, Hermione couldn't take it anymore. She slipped quickly out of her seat, ignoring Ginny's comments and barbs, before making her way away from the restaurant. As her friends' voice faded into the sounds of the city, Hermione's mind was once again gripped with thoughts on her research. She was quickly engrossed in her analytical thinking, trying desperately not to think about the second family that was slipping through her fingers.

When she returned to the Ministry, she quietly made her way back down to the Department of Mysteries, relishing in the eerie calm of the place. It made her feel safe and insulated, far removed from her disaster of a lunch date. Her hands were still stained with ink from her all-nighter the previous evening, her notes hastily strewn around the veil platform. Hermione picked up her work once again, slipping into it like a comfortable silk dress. It surrounded her and helped her forget about the world. When she was working, life was a movie on fast forward. It only slowed down for her discoveries and advancements, letting her revel in the feeling of accomplishment before being plunged headlong back into a ride she can't stop.

She wasn't sure when she next looked up from her calculations; it could've been an hour or all night. The lack of light in her basement was disconcerting at first, but it helped her ignore the clock in her body, telling her to rest. It must've been longer than an hour, much longer, because her eyes were sore a dry. It felt like sand was inside every blink, and she quickly felt the ache of her muscles protesting against her choice of work chair.

Hermione had been so engrossed in crafting her new spell, working out all the kinks in the calculations. She hadn't thought of much else, least of all her own need to sleep. She'd crafted a runic symbol to aide in her magic, as well as two new spells for not only interacting with the archway but using it as a portal of sorts. She wasn't going to go as far as Unspeakable Pench and stroll through the opaque grey veil, but she wondered if she could pull something out of it.

Maybe she could get Sirius back. At first, the thought was fleeting, but that tinge of loneliness from earlier fanned it into a flame. She could feel the Weasley's slipping away; sometimes, it felt like they just wanted her to be their same little know it all again, but she wasn't that person anymore. Maybe someone else would understand, maybe Sirius would understand. Hermione didn't know why he would, or why she thought bringing him back wasn't anything other than complete madness. Something about him made her feel safe, like he'd understand the parts of her that weren't heroine perfect, unlike everyone else.

Her words seemed to float off her parchment, and she was certain she'd reached the hallucination stage of exhaustion. She saw the numbers and the runes; she quickly summoned a piece of chalk, and then she was haphazardly drawing them onto the stone before the archway. Her arms and legs felt half numb and barely aware of her moving them, but the figures appeared before her none the less.

She sat in the center of the circle of symbols she'd drawn, uncaring of the chalk dust covering her pants. Hermione took a deep breath; she was going to do it. She wasn't sure why, and she didn't know if it would work, but she felt like she had to try. Maybe then she could move on, maybe then she could evolve into who she's meant to be. It made no sense, and her mind was swimming alongside her vision. But she didn't stop to think; maybe if she had, then things would've been different.

"I need your help tonight," Hermione spoke, feeling insane for talking to the veil, "I'm going to do it. I'm finally going to try it. Please help me, please." She was basically begging this archway, this thing, for its help. Because despite how delirious she was, she wasn't stupid enough to think she could do this alone.

She finally stood, trying to stop herself from swaying too much. Hermione pointed her wand at the veil, the archway, and a blue light erupted from it as she spoke the words of her spell.

"Chaleb conpescens murmur bestia"

She could feel the air around her crackling with energy and knew she needed to keep going. If she had the strength to do this now, she couldn't turn back, not even for a second.

"Hominem vocate ad me."

As Hermione spoke the words, she put all her energy into them. Her mind was screaming for Sirius, using everything within her to call him to her. She hoped he would hear her calls, feel her magic, and be drawn back to the portal. Golden light

She extended her hand through the veil, holding her breath as she did. Hermione wasn't sure that she wouldn't just cease to exist the moment her skin touched the grey film, but she didn't. It tried to pull away from her at first but relaxed into her touch. It was cold and wet within the veil, like falling into a cold puddle. Seeing her hand disappear completely into the opaque veil was eerie, but she didn't have time to dwell on all of the minutiae of the experience.

Her heart felt like it stopped when skin touched her hand. It felt like a hand, gripping her, through a cold and wet haze. She could only stand, staring at the veil, with shaky breath for a few moments as she decided to pull whatever was touching her through. She hoped it was Sirius, but it could be anyone or anything else. She pulled and felt the veil try to tug them back, but it finally gave way. As if it decided to let her have whatever she'd caught, maybe her relationship with the veil had been a benefit to her research after all.

She pulled and prayed and pulled some more. If it was someone else, if it wasn't Sirius, then she wasn't sure what she'd do. She could march whoever it is to Lucius and expect things to be quietly cleaned up. What Hermione was doing is bad and considered very dark. She knew it, but that had never stopped her. How could the pursuit of knowledge be good or evil? It made no sense to her; it never had.

Suddenly a dark mass was bowling her over, tumbling out of the archway on top of her. They landed in a heap on the sharp jagged rocks, and Hermione couldn't withhold the curses which fell from her lips as something sharp snagged her ribs. She quickly tried to clamber away from whatever she'd just pulled through the archway, needing to get some space to process what had just happened fully.

Whoever was in front of her was dressed in dark clothes and had a head of shaggy hair, which brought a smile to her face. The man in front of her began to stir, looking around and assessing his surroundings.

"Hermione?" His voice cracked and broke as though it hadn't been used in years.

"Sirius." She couldn't stop the shocked way her words fell from her lips; she couldn't believe it was really him right there in front of her. Not after all this time, not after everything that had happened.

He was looking at her, and through her; at the same time, it unnerved her. Hermione quickly realized she needed to get him out of the Ministry, get him somewhere safe before people began to ask questions.

"What did you do?" He asked her, his eyes still vacant and lifeless. But his words were harsh, both a question and an accusation that made her stop dead in her tracks.

What have I done?

The sharp and tight claws of anxiety began to grip her heart, and she couldn't quite comprehend the consequences of her actions. She saw her panic mirrored back in his eyes, but flashes of the two of them in Azkaban brought her back to reality. Hermione knew they'd surely throw them both in that stone prison if they were found, and that couldn't happen. She needed to get Sirius out of here, now.