Chapter Three
Hermione woke to a loud banging noise on her bedroom door the morning after. She has slept soundly that night, having stayed up quite long with Neville and Harry whilst Ron entertained himself in the attic.
"What is it?" she moaned from her bed, not bothering to answer the door. A moment later, a flustered Harry ran through the door carrying a handful of books in his arms, before throwing them onto the bed.
The drowsy witch pulled herself upright to inspect what Harry had just given her. "What are they?"
"Books," Harry cried with a grin plastered on his face.
"Yes, I can see that," she replied, picking one up and flicking through it. "But why are they on my bed?"
"I decided to have another look through the books in the attic this morning and I came across these gems. I've skimmed them and basically they have chapters in them about ancient monuments in Europe." He explained eagerly, taking a large space up on the bed next to Hermione. She shifted over unwillingly.
"I've marked the pages for you," he continued, "I thought they might be useful. Especially as these are magical books, so these monuments have magical properties."
"Okay," she nodded, "can you tell me more? My eyes are far too blurry right now to be doing any reading,"
"Yep – So there are three other monuments like ours in the Death Chamber in Europe. There's a cave located in Gibraltar and get this; seven people have gone missing in that cave. There's also an arch in some forest in Germany where nineteen people have passed through and not come out, and a stone circle in Switzerland where eighty-three people have disappeared!"
"Merlin, that's a lot of people," she exclaimed, her eyes flicking across the diagrams shown in the first book. It showed simple line drawings of the cave in Gibraltar, and likewise other drawings of the stone circle and the arch.
"Have you noticed the markings on them, Harry?" she asked, frowning and leaning in closer to the pages to try and decipher the symbols.
He nodded, "Yeah, I noticed them but I have no idea what they are. They're not runes, or any other language I'm familiar with. But I think I've seen them before…I just can't think where."
"Looks like we'll be taking a trip to the Department of Mysteries today, Harry." Hermione said drearily.
He nodded solemnly, "Never thought I'd have to go back there,"
Hermione's eyes flitted to him and she grasped his hand tightly, affectionately. "You don't have to come with me if you don't want to," she said softly.
"No, I want to. I need to accept that he's not coming back and I guess the first step is going back to where he died." He replied, giving her a small, meek smile.
"Okay," Hermione replied, pulling his hand up and placing a gentle kiss there, "I'll get dressed then we'll go to the Ministry. Get everything together whilst I'm getting ready and I'll be with you in half an hour."
Hermione met Harry at the bottom of the stairs exactly half an hour from then.
"Are you not eating breakfast?" Harry asked with a frown once he had joined her in the reception room, carrying a large bag filled with books slung over his shoulder.
She shook her head, "No," she said, "I'm too distracted to eat anything."
Harry seemed displeased with her answer but accepted it. He had seen this side of her before; using work as an excuse to not eat, after Sirius' death and after she decided to leave her parents in Australia.
"Okay," he said gently, "but when we get back I'm cooking you a big lunch and we'll eat it in the garden. It's looking like a nice day- don't want to waste it in that horrid room, do we?"
Hermione smiled softly and agreed, and then they both went to the fireplace in the study and flooed to the ministry. Entering the Death Chamber was a feat that neither of them ever thought they'd do again; it was probably the one place that they struggled to come to terms with most. Even Hogwarts was difficult to return to after the war, after seeing so many people die it was like their home- their entire childhood- had been destroyed by that war. Although in reality, none of that really had a childhood after they joined Hogwarts.
"We've let down the wards for now, Hermione," her colleague said, "if you get into any trouble at all, just apparate out immediately." Hermione nodded in reply and the man left them to it.
The room was still and silent. So silent one would probably hear a spider's footsteps although even a spider would be too scared to enter it. The feeling of being wholly unwelcome was colossal and the moment Harry and Hermione saw the veil, erected in the centre of the room so innocently, they both had to steady themselves for a moment. Hermione lagged behind, reluctant to get too close to it but then she reminded herself that it was Bellatrix that killed their friend; they were perfectly safe. Harry suddenly seemed to regain his confidence and moved towards it as if with a purpose, "Harry, don't get too close. We aren't sure what it will do if you touch it," Hermione warned him, approaching Harry and taking his hand in hers. She wasn't sure whether her gesture was to hold him back, give him comfort or to comfort herself.
"I won't touch it," Harry replied, squinting his eyes as he appraised the arch, "Do you see the symbols carved into the stone?"
Hermione nodded and cast lumos so they didn't have to strain their eyes so much.
"I recognise them," Harry said, "It's the language that elves use."
"How do you know? Are you sure?" Hermione asked, having to hold herself back from putting a shaky hand through the arch. She so wanted to find out where Sirius had gone, but now wasn't the time.
"I saw Dobby write a note once for Winky and the writing is so, so similar. It must be." He informed her, "Send for a ministry elf,"
Hermione did so, and an elf appeared immediately. "Good afternoon Miss Granger, Mister Potter. My name is Fancy, how can I help you?" the elf said. Although Hermione didn't approve of elves being forced to work for witches and wizards, she had to give credit to the ministry to giving them such excellent uniforms which were perfect miniatures of suits with the ministry emblem.
"Hello, Fancy," Hermione smiled, "We understand the words on this arch are your language, am I correct?" The elf glanced up at the arch and nodded, "Would you mind translating it for us?"
"Of course I can, Miss," Fancy replied, taking a tentative step before the veil which was significantly bigger than herself. Hermione watched her squinting at the arch, taking a few moments to decipher it but then turned around and said, "It's very old elfish dialect, Miss. Elves aren't encouraged to use it anymore, but it's lucky my Mother thought it was important to keep hold of the language," she explained proudly. "If I'm correct, I believe it says "Where Good Souls Rest Awake"."
Both Harry and Hermione immediately interpreted it the same way, but it was clear by the silence that neither of them wanted to admit it first. Harry dismissed the elf and they stood in silence, just contemplating what they had been told. Hermione could tell Harry was brimming to speak, but he was scared to jump to an impossible conclusion. She sighed, "Just say it."
"Does this mean that whoever crosses the Veil doesn't actually die," he suggested hurriedly, "what if they just…remain? What if the Veil acts as a nursery for the people who are meant to die, and it just keeps them there instead."
"Please don't jump to any irrational conclusions, Harry," Hermione implored but it was clear there was no point in her saying it.
He shook his head, "I think it's too late for that."
"I'll speak to our head of department about this now. I think you should head off home for now; get some sleep, you've got work tonight." Then she bid Harry farewell and made her way to her boss' office.
"Sir, I believe I may have made a discovery," she began as soon as she entered the room and hurriedly took a seat at his desk, "I cannot say for certain, but what I have just uncovered could suggest that people who cross over through the Veil do not actually die; they're preserved within the Veil."
The head of the Department of Mysteries leant forward in his chair, his brows knitting together, "I probably should have mentioned this to you earlier, Miss Granger, but I wanted to withhold until I saw how you would fare working on a project of this…delicacy. Fifty years ago a wizard, an auror, saw his wife go through the Veil and when she passed through he followed her. He wasn't supposed to have followed her. She went through and stayed there, whereas the veil…well, it spat him back out. We don't know how or why but it sent him insane, maybe from the trauma of watching his wife die in front of him, we don't know for certain but he claimed to have seen the other side of the Veil." He explained.
"What did he see?" Hermione asked.
"He saw normal people, just like us, walking about, not going anywhere or looking at anything in particular. Just wandering and it sent him insane."
She knew he would never agree to what she was about to ask, but with the information she had just been given she just had to. "Sir, with your permission I would like to venture into the Veil."
He leant back, shaking his head, "I cannot allow that, Granger. It's too risky. Imagine if that were to happen to you, what happened to that man."
"Sir," she began, "I'm afraid I must insist. I feel like I'm really onto something here; I just need a glimpse…just two seconds on the other side of it. The consequences, if there are any, will be entirely on my head. And if it's any consolation, after the horrors I witnessed during the war, I very much doubt anything I see now could turn me insane."
Her boss was silent for a moment, inwardly battling with his natural curiosity and professional duty of care for his employees, but finally said, "No one can know about this, Granger. Do what you must. We never had this conversation."
Hermione couldn't hold the smile from her face and thanked him. He had no idea how much it meant to her, but she wasn't about to admit that the thought she might see Sirius again and that was mainly the reason why she wanted to cross over. Her next objective was to visit St Mungos, to question the one man who had gone to and from the inside of the Veil.
"Take an Unspeakable with you, Granger, but don't tell him what we've agreed. You'll need another ministry worker to be allowed to question a patient." Her boss instructed and sent for a young man, around Hermione's age that began working the same week she did, called Finn. They greeted each other warmly, and Hermione couldn't deny that at one point she'd had a fleeting crush on him and two dates later, decided he was just a bit too shy for her liking. Naturally, she would have preferred to work with someone else because now she'd have to deal with awkward conversation with him.
"You never got back to me about a third date, Hermione." Finn commented quietly as they made their way to the hospital; quietly, but Hermione could hear the tone of embarrassment in his voice.
She inwardly swore, hoping not to have skimmed that topic while they were working. "Yes, I know, Finn. I've been so busy with work, you know how it is," she explained. Although she had been busy with work, after two dates she was always certain whether something was worth pursuing, and unfortunately he hadn't been.
"Oh of course," he replied, nodding his head quickly and dropped the subject.
The two ministry workers were led to a ward for the mentally unstable and were asked to keep as quiet as possible and not stray towards any of the beds. The names of each patient was labelled at the foot of each bed and the nurse led them to a bed at the far end of the room with the label: Murdo Montague- 01/07/1923
"I'm afraid, considering the nature of your visit you'll only be able to question Mister Montague for fifteen minutes at most. I'll be stood close by should anything happen," the nurse said, then moved away tend to other patients.
Hermione took a seat beside the man who was sat upright in his bed, watching the pair of them intently. Other than his incredibly blood shot eyes and shaking hands, he seemed quite normal to Hermione who smiled pleasantly at him.
"We are here from the ministry, Mister Montague. We need to ask you a few questions about the incident involving you and your wife in 1955 if that's okay with you," Finn explained, taking a seat at the end of the bed and removing a notebook from his jacket pocket and the man nodded, his eyes darting from Hermione to Finn.
"Firstly, Mister Montague, we would like to know how you tricked the Veil into letting you in. It is our understanding that the Veil specifically chooses who to let in," she explained, beginning to feel slightly unnerved by his relentless stare that wouldn't leave her face.
The man licked his dry lips and smoothed his hair down before replying with an unsteady breath, "I'd read in a book once that there are secret passages that unlock with a blood offering," he replied.
Hermione nodded, "I expected as much," she commented and Finn noted it immediately. "And how exactly did you manage to escape the Veil?"
"It wasn't out of choice," he spat, "It just threw me out." He said simply and said no more.
"If you don't mind describing it, what was on the other side?" she asked reluctantly.
"It was…" he began, but trailed off as if distracted by something and stared longingly at something on the other side of the room, muttering something they couldn't hear.
"I'm sorry, I can't hear what you're saying, Mister Montague," Hermione said meekly, unsure of how to react to him. He just continued to stare, his eyes bulging until he barked in a tortured tone, "Freda! Freda!"
Hermione's eyes darted to Finn, widening as if to ask what to do, ever so slightly panicking. Her co-worker grimaced and mouthed the words "wife" in reply earning a wince from Hermione. She could only imagine what this poor man was going through. It hurt Hermione on an entire new level when Sirius had passed over, but he was her good friend…this man had lost his new wife and crossed over just to try and get her back.
Then as soon as the man had drifted into a trance, shouting his wife's name, he drifted out of it and licked his lips again, then smoothed his hair down.
"I do apologise," he said quietly, "Freda was asking what I wanted for my dinner; I don't think she heard me,"
"No need to apologise, Mister Montague," Finn said with a sympathetic smile, "shall we continue?"
The man nodded and replied to the question, "What was on the other side? So many people, hundreds of people and they were lifeless. They were like ghosts, thin, like ghosts and just wandering around. Just walking, looking at nothing- well, their eyes weren't focused on anything but it was like they had no purpose, or they were waiting for something and just walking to fill the time…"
The two of them were fixed on his story, intrigued by what he was saying. The man was supposed to be insane, but his story just confirmed everything for Hermione; Sirius, in some respects, was alive. And this meant that she could bring him back. She knew she was breaking so many rules; she'd already made the project as personal as it could get and now she would risk her life and her sanity to bring him back but she already owed so much to him and to Harry. Their happiness was enough for her to just do it without even thinking that much about it. Hermione would bring Sirius back. Yes, she would bring him back.