A dreadful truth

A/N: Hello there! As usual, I thank you for those awesome reviews! You guys rock. Well, the day is cold and rainy, I have coffee with me, and I'm suffering from two moods: I'm happy because I feel like writing, and I'm utterly depressed because Equus is already being represented in West End, London; and I don't even live in the same continent, so I'll never get to see it. Pathetic, isn't it? So I hope you'll like this chapter. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Only the plot, and that's enough for me.

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"What are you talking about?" Tonks was the first to ask. Harry rubbed his face with his hands in frustration.

"The book... That's how I figured out that Hermione was going to jump through the Veil," he muttered. Ginny gasped.

"Her suicide note was inside of it!" She breathed, making Harry grunt. Did they have to talk about that note? Lupin frowned.

"Anyone care to explain this for those that weren't there?" He questioned, looking at them sternly.

"It was in her room," Ron replied tiredly; he really didn't want to remember that terrible night. "The book was over her desk... Harry saw it and opened it, took out the note... After we had read it, he opened the book again and told us that she had gone to the Ministry..." He trailed off, and then he turned around to stare at Harry. "Now that you mention it... I used to wonder how you knew where to go..."

"Yeah," Harry retorted, uncovering his face. "I've just remembered..."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Luna suddenly spoke. "Bring that book here!" Harry glanced at her and then slowly nodded, turning around and going to the stairs hastily. Could it be? Could it all be in that book? A door full of answers had just been opened for them, and Harry hoped that, for the sake of their sanities, the answers that could possibly be provided would be enough for the thousand questions they all had. Sooner of what he would've wanted he found himself on the second floor, where he encountered a problem much greater and horrifying that any enthusiasm that had possessed him:

Hermione's bedroom door.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, staring at that piece of wood standing in front of him. He had not looked at that door for nearly four months... Inside, what would he find? Hermione's wand, her clothes, her books, her stuff for work... Pieces, debris of her life. The room surely smelt like her still... Harry gulped and put his hand on the doorknob, ready to cast the spell to reopen the room, and yet he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to pronounce the Finite Incantatem. How hard could it be for the air to pass through his vocal cords, enabling him to speak, and to use a minimum proportion of strength to push a door open? How hard could it be? Not very much so, certainly... But right now, he'd rather take his chances with good old Voldy again.

And so his hand left the doorknob, and the door remained firmly closed as Harry whipped around and retreated to the stairs again, suddenly feeling older. He wasn't strong enough for that room, not yet. He hoped that they would understand how he felt... Because he didn't. When Harry reappeared in the living room everyone looked up at him expectantly, and at the sigh of his empty hands their looks went from expectancy to disappointment.

"Wasn't the book there, Harry?" Lupin asked him gently. It was quite probable that Harry had not even entered the room, and Lupin knew better than to press him. Harry would come around when he was ready.

"I think we should wait." Harry retorted barely above a whisper.

"For what?" Ginny wanted to know. Harry turned to glance at her with an impassive semblance.

"For Sirius to wake up," he responded calmly, trying to hide any kind of emotion that would give away how he was really feeling. "Maybe it's not what we're thinking of. Maybe, he'll be able to tell us," he added before any of them could ask anything.

"I think you're right, Harry," Tonks told him, smiling slightly. "We couldn't ask for a better source for what's behind the Veil than my cousin."

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He was lying on something solid, he was no longer floating. He felt immensely heavy... Nothing hurt, but he didn't feel exactly okay. Sirius's head started spinning when he opened his eyes; almost as though he had a vicious hangover. The darkness that usually revolved around him wasn't there anymore- he found himself in a strangely familiar room... A room! Sirius opened his mouth to speak, as he recalled what had happened to him, and found himself slightly awed with the fact of breathing oxygen again.

"Harry," he croaked with a wheezing voice. It felt so strange to be able to hear his voice, and even more to use it. A sound like a chair roughly moving came from his side, and a face hovered above his. It took a few seconds for Sirius to bring it to focus.

"Sirius? Are you conscious?" Lupin asked excitedly, grinning; the very sight of his best friend awake was enough for him to create a Patronus. "Harry's at work- I'll tell him you're awake," he added without further ado, and his face disappeared from view. Sirius closed his eyes tiredly; it was hard to get used to gravity again. Ten minutes or ten hours could have easily passed before he heard anything again; a loud popping sound and someone hastily going up the old staircases and running towards his old bedroom... Soon enough the face Sirius had yearned to see for four years came into view, and he couldn't help but to smile widely. Lily's eyes stared at him from above, both shocked and happy looking.

"S- Sirius?" Harry asked slowly, slightly breathless. He couldn't believe it; he was staring at his godfather... A person Harry thought had lost forever, and here he was, smiling at him again. This was stuff of dreams, and yet it was all real.

"Potter," Sirius greeted him back toilsomely. Lupin's face bobbed into view, too, and the shade of emotions in his eyes was exactly like Harry's. Sirius grinned and tried to sit up in his bed, but found himself struggling, once more, against the gravity of the earth. Immediately Harry and Lupin carefully hoisted him up, and Sirius leaned against the wall, staring at two of the most important persons in his life. He shyly opened his arms and beckoned Harry to come closer, and his godson got the message. Harry, still unbelievingly, came to his arms reach, and then Sirius could finally hug him tightly. Harry hugged him back with equal force, trying not to let his emotions get the best of him. Sirius was alive... He had returned. He was back, he was back! When they parted, both men hastily looked away to wipe away any trace of wetness from their eyes. Harry then stared at Sirius embracing Lupin, and a smile formed on his lips.

"Willing to talk, Padfoot?" Lupin volunteered to break the silence, also breaking the embrace, grabbing the chair he had been sitting on and drawing it near to Sirius's bed, as Harry sat on the edge of the bed. Sirius yawned.

"About what?" He rasped before cleaning his throat. It felt good to use his voice; it felt good to be among the living again, as stupidly obvious as that sounded. Harry and Lupin shared a wary glance.

"How did you get here, for example," Lupin answered. Harry bit the inside of his cheek as he looked at Sirius, who glanced back at them in silence.

"The Ministry was empty," he began with a thoughtful tone of voice. "When I managed to crawl out of the courtroom and out of the Department of Mysteries, there was no one in sight. I didn't know where I was at first... The Veil sort of kicked- spit me out, if you will. I had forgotten what it was like to walk or stand, instead of drifting around." Sirius continued, his eyes sporting a faraway look. "So I guess that I was acting on instinct, or something along those lines. At first I apparated, but I swear that it just damn near killed me. After that, I walked... The house was empty... I tried to reach my room, but I assume I ended up passing out. And that's pretty much it," Sirius finished with a wide smile.

"The Veil 'spit you out'?" Harry asked quietly. His godfather raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah... A force, sort to speak, pushed me forwards, I guess. Why?" He said. Harry shook his head, looking away, and Lupin was frowning.

"Nevermind that now," he said firmly. "You have to rest."

"But I want to know what's been going on," Sirius protested. "Four years is a long time," he added.

"And we'll tell you everything, but not right now," Lupin replied. "You've been unconscious for a week. When you have some more strength, then we'll talk about whatever you feel like talking about."

"But-"

"Lupin's right," Harry interrupted, looking at him. He wanted to tell his godfather so many things; Sirius had missed so many life changing events... And even so, Harry knew that it was a little too much at this time. Sirius looked at him with a surprised look but in the end he nodded, defeated.

"Fine, I see that I've been overruled." Lupin grinned.

"You sound like Molly," he commented, making Sirius scowl at him.

"Thanks, Moony. That's very comforting."

"You know, Padfoot... You look younger," Lupin told him, eyeing closely. Sirius raised his eyebrows.

"I feel younger." He told his old friend, crossing his arms across his chest.

"I wonder..." Lupin trailed off, frowning again. Harry just stared at Sirius in silence; and Lupin was right... His godfather looked much younger and refreshed than ever before.

"How I manage to keep my smashing good looks?" Sirius completed the sentence for him with a smirk. Lupin barely smiled.

"My friend, I'd be more worried about your ever growing ego, if that was the case."

-

It took another four days for Sirius to be able to walk, and a week for him to get completely used to being able to use his legs properly again. He still felt dizzy sometimes, but those kinds of things were minor prices to pay to be alive again. He celebrated his first Christmas since Harry's fifth year in Grimmauld Place, and New Year's Eve was spent in the Burrow instead. Sirius was happy beyond himself, and his happiness was luckily contagious.

Currently, Sirius was enjoying himself in Grimmauld Place's living room, a week after the New Year's celebration, reckoning about Harry and Lupin had told him quite recently. Harry had successfully defeated Voldemort; not surprise there, Sirius had always known that his godson had it in him... Dumbledore had died; that had really shocked and saddened him, he had to admit... Snape betraying them; well, Sirius believed that they couldn't have expected anything more coming from Snivellus. Alright, Harry had told him that in the end Snape had been on the 'light side' all the time, but still... Didn't matter anyway, for Voldemort ended up killing him. There had been many losses, yes, but a world free of the taint of Voldemort was more than just a reward- it was a blessing.

Moony and Tonks were formally together now; nothing shocking there either... Ron had proposed, during New Year, to a girl Sirius did not recognize called Luna, daughter of the owner of the Quibbler... When it came to couples, the biggest surprise for Sirius had (not surprisingly) been Ginny married to Draco Malfoy. Now that had been completely unexpected! And his godson was still single, the godfather had also noticed. Sirius had tried to engage Harry into several conversations about this, but he had successfully dodged any type of talk about love and relationships.

And still, as blissful and elated everyone looked, there was something missing: Hermione had not been present in any of the celebrations, nor had Sirius seen her anywhere near them. Neither Harry, nor Ron, nor even Ginny talked about her. Maybe they had fought over the years? Come to think of it, Hermione Granger's name was never even pronounced anymore. Sirius frowned at the ceiling and ran his fingers through his hair, wondering what could have happened to the inseparable trio during the course of the four years he had spent inside the Veil, for them to so blatantly ignore Hermione. And as her name rang in his ears, the feeling he had strictly forbidden himself to acknowledge years ago made its entrance in his head.

He wanted to see her again...

Sirius knew it had all been wrong, yes. And Hermione had also known that... The guilt of what had happened between them during her fifth year hung heavily in his heart, and yet he couldn't help it. She would be of age now... Maybe she could consider...? Don't be stupid, Sirius scolded himself. For all you know, she could be married with children. You're too old for her, anyway. He sighed deeply at this thought. If she hadn't cared about it when she was fifteen, then there was still a chance. She would be twenty by now... At the age of fifteen, Hermione had indeed entered the 'jailbait' territory, but what Sirius had found attractive in her was how much older she had appeared –and had acted- when it came to the spiritual and mental aspects of her personality. In all honesty, the person who Hermione was inside had lured him out of his shell... Of course she was very pretty too, no point in denying that, but it had been more... profound that just the mere physical.

But profound or not, it still didn't make it right. Sirius remembered the night they had broken up and sadness traced itself all over his face, recalling Hermione's cracked voice. "But I still love you." Sirius didn't know if she had been telling the truth or not, but he had had no other option. He couldn't deprive her of what could be a wonderful life with someone her own age to repay her with someone old enough to be her father; an ex convict...

But Hermione herself had told him that she didn't care about that... So what could he believe in? Did he have the right to hope? Hermione was Harry's best friend... Did he actually have a right?

Sirius was so deep in thought that he didn't hear Harry entering Grimmauld Place; for it was noon and he had finished his work for the day. Being Friday, and close still to the New Year, the Ministry allowed their employees to leave much earlier than expected, and Harry had seized that opportunity eagerly. Having Sirius back at Grimmauld Place had greatly eased the pain of not having Hermione there anymore. And though Harry regarded Hermione and Sirius differently, and his godfather was not to be seen under any circumstance as a replacement, having at least one of them back was enough to make him have something forward to look to, a reason to get up in the morning, and to smile.

Harry plopped down on the couch opposite to Sirius and only then did his godfather acknowledged him with a smile, but he looked troubled. Harry smiled back as he took off his shoes and stretched on the couch, sighing happily. He was home; Sirius was alive, and a free man as well...

"Long day?" He heard Sirius ask, and he nodded mutely.

"It's all paperwork. I hate paperwork," Harry murmured, closing his eyes. Sirius chuckled. "One would think that the Death eaters also believe they deserve holidays," he added with a grin, looking over at Sirius, who grinned in return. There was a strange sadness to his gray eyes. "What's up?" Harry wanted to know. Sirius's brow furrowed slightly and he breathed in deeply, making Harry raise his eyebrows.

"I've been meaning to ask you something," he replied. Harry straightened up on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Fire ahead," he told him. Sirius nervously ran a hand through his black hair and bored his eyes into his.

"It's about Hermione." It didn't surprise Sirius that Harry's lips became only a line drawn in his face, and that his hands tensed around his knees. He even got pale.

"Oh. I see." His tone was icy, but not towards Sirius. They had not told his godfather about what had happened to Hermione, because Lupin still believed that it was just too coincidental that Padfoot had revived three months after her death. As Lupin put it, he 'had his doubts' and still had 'suspicions about what had really happened'. Harry had not understood what he had meant, but paid no attention to it. After all, Sirius deserved to know everything that had been going on.

"Where is she? Did you lot have a fight or something?" Sirius questioned. Harry sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose at this.

"No..." He trailed off. "Say, Sirius... Did you feel something, when you were still inside the Veil, five months ago?" Harry asked.

"There's nothing beyond the Veil. You become a whisper; you no longer feel. I thought I had already said that in the Ministry?" Sirius replied with his right eyebrow rise. He did not like to talk about what was behind the Veil... And in the hearing the Ministry had organized for him to testify, he had been forced to retell everything again, down to the smallest detail... He no longer wanted to be reminded of that stage of his life.

"Just wondering," Harry's voice broke his train of thought.

"But what does that have to do with Hermione?" Sirius asked him, frowning. Harry shook his head and looked down. "Is she away? Did she move to another country or something?"

"She's dead," Harry ejaculated without thinking, growing paler. It sounded so irrevocably real to say it like that. So unmistakably final. Sirius closed his mouth and widened his eyes, the truth hitting him on the head like an anvil. Dead?! His Hermione was dead?

"But... How? Why; when? Why didn't you tell me?" Sirius accused, standing up and starting to pace through the living room. How could she have passed away? How was it possible? People like her should not die, ever. Precious lives like hers should be cherished; Hermione should be alive! He couldn't have lost her already... She had been so young! Her life was just beginning to take shape... And she had died...

"None of us can't get around it yet," Harry honestly said. Sirius snorted.

"Remus didn't want you to tell me, didn't he?" Harry's eyebrows shot up again in surprise, and the lack of answer confirmed Sirius's assumption: afterall, Moony had always been suspicious about what had happened between Hermione and himself, hadn't he?

"Well, that too," His godson agreed, blushing slightly. "As for your other questions..." Harry swallowed before answering, and Sirius did not miss the sudden discomfort that had gripped the younger wizard. However, he waited for the answers. "She died on September the 20th."

"A day after her birthday?" Sirius interrupted without thinking; Harry chose not to ask how his godfather could know a personal piece of information like when Hermione's birthday was.

"Yeah..." Harry's voice was small and distressed. "We don't know why, yet," he continued. "Not the exact reason, I mean."

"What do you mean? I thought she had been murdered during the War!" Sirius exclaimed.

"You see, Sirius... There was another reason why we didn't tell you," Harry told him, looking up at him. Sirius stared back in silence. "She killed herself-"

"Hermione killed herself?!" Sirius cut him off, positively sure that Harry was pulling his leg. Few times in his life had he met someone less prone to commit suicide than Hermione. Harry nodded, his eyes downcast. "But- But how?" Sirius asked, horrified by the news. Harry closed his eyes tightly at the memory of the courtroom.

"She jumped through the Veil."

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A/N: Ah! There you go! I started writing this at 10.00 am... Blimey! I've been writing this for four hours! DAMN! This better be worth it, for your sake! I hope that you liked it; and as usual I ask you to leave a review to let me know what you thought of this! Until next chapter!