Hermione sat in bed that night looking over the file Snodgrass had given her. Upon first look it appeared to be about as thick as a short novella. But within the magically expanded file held years of paperwork, decades in fact. There were notes from Unspeakables who had long since died.

When Ashby had told her that she would be assigned a project she had foolishly hoped that it would be the one she had been pushing for. She had already done the preliminary research, not to mention she had a history with time. What after her use of the time-turner in third year.

Instead Snodgrass had given her "The Project", as it was known around the Department. Most everyone tried their hand at it but failed to produce results. Some had even been driven mad by it. Whispers around the department could often be heard about the latest Unspeakable to work on it, wondering how long they would last before they gave up or went crazy, and whether this would be the one to end up dying.

This was a project that she had some history with she guessed. If one considered knowing someone that fell through it a history.

She sighed. The Archway in the Death Chamber. It was not a happy prospect to be working with it. Many theories had been postulated on what it was, why it existed, and how the living could use it to their benefit. The overall theory was that as it was a gateway, surely it must go both ways. If one could enter, one could also exit. Others believed that within it a sort of purgatory existed. And for those that entered they never truly could move on. But Harry's experience with the Resurrection Stone disproved that in Hermione's opinion.

The thing was that ever since they had lost Sirius to the veil she had formed her own theories regarding the archway. And many of them seemed inline with others from the department. Which, she figured, was as good a start as she could hope for.

She doubted when Ashby spoke to Snodgrass that this was the project she had in mind for Hermione. Not only was it higher level, but it had been deemed unsolvable years ago. Those that dared to work on it, did so out of some need for recognition or pure masochism. That was Hermione's way of thinking at least.

A part of her wondered if Snodgrass had assigned her the job with the expectation that she would fail. That part of her raised its hackles. If that was the case, then she would just have to make sure that she disappointed him… spectacularly.

Determination filled her, and she found herself unable to sleep that night. After a couple of hours tossing and turning she rose from her bed and went to make herself a cup of tea. She had a great deal of planning to do.

One week and several broken quills later found Hermione self- sequestered in her room surrounded by rolls and rolls of parchment. She had only gone into work in order to gather supplies and at least make an appearance. Her office was well lit and suited perfectly to her, but she found the confines of her own room a better work space. This had little to do with a fear of Snodgrass looming over her with an evil smile. At least that was what she told herself.

She had utilized what she could from her own, admittedly small, library. Most others would look at her funny in regards to the size of her book collection. To many she owned the equivalent of a small bookstore. But for the purpose of research it was almost worthless. And though a quick run through of the department library yielded a few promising tomes, she was still missing something.

The goal of her research was to prove the theory of a gateway correct. The problem was the how. How could she achieve her results, and where to even start? It was easy to claim that the Archway was a door to the other world. Several eyewitness reports supported this, including all those that saw Sirius fall. But she needed to connect those with tangible proof. And short of entering the Archway herself she wasn't sure how to do it.

While pondering this conundrum Hermione found herself suddenly assaulted by a pair of shoes. Her shoes in fact. She looked up from the offending pair of footwear and to the door where Teddy stood.

"What was that for?" Hermione rubbed the spot on her head where the shoes had connected, all the while glaring at the boy.

"While I'm glad that you are getting back to your old self, I don't think Molly would be happy if we missed dinner." He motioned to the watch on his wrist and then to the tattered calendar hanging on her bedroom wall.

Hermione blinked at the calendar, her eyes focusing on the little square representing that day. Under 'SAT' was written 'Dinner at the Burrow' in bright red letters. She cursed. With all the work she had been doing she had completely forgotten what day it was, and even that she had plans. And Teddy was right, Molly would have a fit if they were late. If they didn't show up at all she was bound to kill Hermione.

"Give me just a minute. I have to clear this up." She waited until Teddy gave a nod and left before practically vaulting off her bed. Quickly she secured all her notes, hiding them back within their file and locked away inside her desk. Though Ashby had no problems with anyone working from home, there were extra security measures in place to prevent their work from getting into the wrong hands.

After double checking that she had added all the correct wards to the desk, she pulled on a thin hooded jumper and slipped into the shoes Teddy had assaulted her with. She wouldn't be winning any fashion awards, but no one at the Burrow would care.

The Burrow was in a state of controlled chaos as normal. Molly worked busily in the kitchen cooking and cleaning. Various spells kept up a constant load of dishes scrubbing in the sink, vegetables peeling and chopping, and spoons stirring on the range. The entire house smelled of warmth and home. A feeling Hermione was sure she would never grow tired of.

No one was brave enough to even stick their heads into the kitchen. One look and Molly would either put you to work or send you straight back outside. Because of this everyone had found an activity to busy themselves with in the garden.

Leaning up against a table George was explaining the newest product that he and Harry had been working on. A series of teas, cocoas, and coffees. Of course, as this was a Weasley product Hermione doubted they would be benign.

Sitting on the bench beside them Ron bounced Lilly on his knee. The girl laughed as her uncle tickled at her sides in between bounces. Lilly loved all her uncles, but no one could deny that Ron was her favorite. When she had been a baby he had been the only one able to get her to stop crying.

Hermione remembered one time when Lilly had only been a few months old. She had caught a cold, and the poor little girl had been miserable. With a running nose and slight fever, Lilly had done nothing but scream and cry. Nothing that her parents did seemed to help her calm or sleep.

Ron had been on an assignment with his partner, staking out a residence believed to house one of the last Death Eaters. Harry had told her later that Ron had shown up in the middle of the night, took Lilly from Ginny, and rocked the girl to sleep before leaving again. Turned out that Lilly had shown her first real burst of magic, having called to her uncle. Even today, Lilly's magic reaches out for Ron when she is destressed. And he never fails to answer.

Sometimes Hermione regretted that her and Ron never worked out. Watching him with his niece was enough to make any witch melt. Times like this, when loneliness crept in, she had to fight the urge to contemplate trying a relationship again. Looking away from the two, she caught sight of three other laughing Weasleys.

Charlie, who had made a habit of visiting regularly after the war, was on his broom tossing a quaffle back and forth with Percy and Ginny. The three teased and joked, trying to score points by knocking each other off their brooms. So far Ginny was winning by several points.

"Sometimes 'zay are such children, no?" Fleur laughed as Charlie flew under Ginny and yanked at her leg in an underhanded move.

Motherhood had softened Fleur where the war had hardened her. Though her and Molly still butted heads at times, she had become a welcome member of the family. A little bit rounder than when she was younger, she maintained her beauty in a way that Hermione was envious of.

She sat now beside Hermione, her fingers quickly creating braids in the long hair of her youngest daughter, Anouk. Though one eye always seemed to be on Victoire who was ambling around the garden with Teddy.

"Hmm, it is nice to see though." She smiled at Fleur and nodded towards Bill who had just pocketed something George had handed him.

Fleur's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing on the matter. With one last flourish she finished Anouk's hair and sent her to go play with her brothers and sisters. Without discussion she scooted closer to Hermione and began to attack her hair. It was the same every Weasley dinner, but where Hermione had once hated it, now she looked forward to it.

It was one piece of belonging, a bit of family for a woman that had none. After the war she had thought about bringing her parents back, but the knowledge that her wand work was permanent kept her from trying. In the void that this left, the Weasleys took her in. And unexpectedly Fleur quickly became her sister.

And now Hermione sat, Fleur carefully detangling her hair and weaving it into an intricate braid. With the laughter and voices around her she knew she could easily fall asleep. The only one there that didn't look as relaxed as her seemed to be Harry.

He sat on the ground with his back against the side of the house, one leg curled in and one stretched out before him. If one didn't know him as closely as she did, they would think him merely enjoying the rare sunny day. But she did know him. She knew the line between his eyes and the set of his mouth. Something was bothering him. Ron must have noticed it too, as he had sent Lilly off to Arthur who sat entertaining his other grandchildren with stories.

When Fleur finished she thanked her and made the few steps over to where Harry sat. She reached out a foot and gently kicked him in the shin to gain his attention.

"What was that for?!" He snapped at her, but his face smoothed when he noticed her crossed arms.

"Come on, let's go for a walk." Hermione nodded behind her and away from the rest of the family. She could see that he planned to refuse.

Even after all these years he still thought he had to deal with things on his own. Though before Harry could get anything out Ron appeared at her side. Years of working as an Auror had changed his body. And though he wasn't the most muscular man she had ever seen, he now had a much thicker build than either of them.

Without giving him a chance to refuse, Ron leaned down and grasped at Harry. With a great heave he lifted the other man onto his feet. Harry glared at him but followed as they took off away from the house.

It had been a long time since it had just been the three of them. Sure, they still hung out all the time, but there was always someone else there. For the first time in probably a year or so the three were alone.

"Alright, give it up Harry. What's the matter?" Hermione had waited until they were well out of sight of the Burrow before talking. Something that the other two seemed to have silently agreed upon.

Harry ruffled his hair before catching himself and sticking his hands into his pockets.

"Ginny and I thought it was time to finally clean out the attic. We thought I could use it as an office. It is well away from the kids' reach that I would be able to keep test products there without worry." He swallowed thickly but walked a bit further on.

After taking over care of Grimmauld Place, Harry and Ginny had practically gutted the house. It had been the only way to get rid of Mrs. Black and the Black tapestry. The only place that he had refused to touch was the attic.

"I don't know what I expected to find there really. It was mostly just Buckbeak's old nest and a lot of dust." He removed one of his hands and stuck it in the hair at the back of his head. "I did find a box though."

Harry stopped walking. They had made it to the top of a small hill, and he turned back towards the Burrow and sat down in the grass. Both Hermione and Ron followed suit.

"Sirius must have collected a bunch of books from the library and put up there. As far as I can tell none of them are dark. But there are a fair few that should not be seen by young eyes." He folded his legs up to his chest, his arms resting atop his knees.

"Alright, do you want me to take a look at them?" Ron's voice was soft, but you could tell he was quickly entering Auror mode.

"No, like I said none of them are dangerous. No, it is just…" Harry looked up to the sky. "…there were several journals in there. Sirius's journals. Many of the earliest ones are incomprehensible. Just a lot of babblings about Dementors and cold. They are scary to read. I never realized just how unhinged he had actually been back then."

"It is not surprising. He spent twelve years in prison with the world thinking he murdered his best friends." Hermione leaned over and gathered Harry to her side. It had been awhile since Harry had talked about Sirius like this.

"More than that, he spent twelve years knowing who the real murderer was and that he was out in the world free. I know I would go a bit barmy if it had been me." Ron joined Hermione, gathering Harry from the opposite side.

"I know, but the thing is the journals didn't get much better. For awhile they did, he wrote about how proud of me he was and how much he knew my mum and dad would love the wizard I had become. But then it got worse again. The journals became angry and you would think he had still been locked up."

Hermione looked over to Ron and saw the same grim face looking back at her. The fact of the matter was he had been locked up. Sure, it had been for his own good. He had still been a wanted man, had he been out in the world and seen he could have been arrested again. Even so, to be locked away in a house that represented hatred and horror to the man. It was a wonder he hadn't lost his mind completely. No. 12 Grimmauld Place had almost done what the Dementors hadn't been able to.

Laughter echoed up from the Burrow and Harry sighed. It seemed like getting this off his chest had done little to raise his spirits.

"I read the things he wrote and I can't help but feel guilty. He should be here now, you know? He should have been at my wedding, and there to meet each of my children. He should be free to just live." He leaned his head against Hermione's shoulder. "I miss him sometimes. I… I think I miss him even more than my parents. Does that make me a bad person?"

Hermione lifted up his face so she could look him directly in the eyes. It had been a while since she had seen this Harry, and she didn't like it one bit.

"Listen to me, Harry. You are not a bad person just because you miss someone. You actually got to know Sirius, to love him, and there is nothing wrong in missing that connection. And I doubt your parents would be upset to know that you loved their friend, the man they chose to be your godfather."

Ron nodded his head in agreement before standing up and dusting himself off.

"Hermione's right, Harry. No one is going to blame you for missing someone important in your life. Now, let's get back to the house. Mum's probably got dinner done by now."

Both Hermione and Harry laughed. No matter how much time went by, some things just never changed.

Family dinners at the Burrow were always an experience. Just as chaotic as the home they lived in, the Weasleys bustled around the kitchen table setting the plates and covering all available space with bowls of food. They reminded one of bees, buzzing around the hive in their own little dance. And like those bees they quickly finished off the table and sat down with an excited buzz.

As spoons clanked against mis-matched china, plopping various dishes of potatoes, gravy, and meats, a clamor of voices rose to thank Molly. Unlike Ron's enthusiastic mash-filled "…ank-oo, ..um," Hermione swallowed down her bite of roast before speaking.

The entire table was packed shoulder to shoulder with people. All but a solitary chair. For the last sixteen years that chair had remained empty, but the setting in front of it placed as though the occupant had simply stepped out of the room.

In years past the sight of the empty chair caused a round of tears. But today no one broke down. It had become less of a symbol of what was lost, and instead a tribute to the love the family still held for Fred. Even so, Hermione could see how George would occasionally turn to it as though expecting Fred to be there ready with a joke.

Talk continued around the table. Laughter rose and fell, whispers echoed across the room, and everyone expressed their love of the food. For Hermione this was home, and something to be forever grateful for.

"So, Hermione, Teddy tells me that you have finally been given a project at work." Molly spoke over the clamoring voices at the table, all the while reaching over to wipe off a bit of gravy dripping off James' chin.

"Ah, yes. My supervisor thought that it was time." Hermione shot Teddy a look, to which he lowered his head in guilt. It wasn't that she planned on keeping it a secret from anyone, but because of the nature of her job it was hard to share details.

"Overdue, I would say. Our Hermione is the smartest witch of her age." Arthur gave her a huge smile.

The years had aged him even more. His hair, already thinning when she had first met him, was all but gone. Lines filled the corners of his eyes and lips, and between his brows. But when he smiled he looked ageless. This was true as well for Molly, who had grown to smile more and more in the passing years. Ginny often attributed it to the children, 'keeps you young, you see.'

"I'm not sure that is true anymore. I'm not sure that was ever true." In her time at Hogwarts she had learned about intelligence, and what made one smart. Was it the ability to take in knowledge? If so, sure one could easily call her smart. But befriending Luna had taught her something altogether different.

"Father is correct. You should have been appointed as Minister by now. I offered…" Percy was cut off when Bill reached over to clamp a hand over his mouth. Percy was still insufferable, even with all the growth he had done after the war.

"Unfortunatly, even with Voldemort dead the Ministry is still dealing with corruption. It went so deep within our world that just the death of one dark wizard isn't likely to fix it. Even so, someone should have recognized Hermione's talent long before now." Arthur had often reiterated his thoughts on the Ministry post-war. Thoughts that most agreed with.

Molly, clearly not wanting to go down the war discussion rabbit-hole, cut off her husband before he could say anything else.

"So, Dear, anything you can tell us about your project?"

Hermione sat silent a moment. She knew she wouldn't be able to get away with saying nothing, but she really couldn't say that she was to be working with the archway either. Not just because of secrecy, but with the way that Harry was that night she didn't think bringing up his dead godfather was a good idea.

"Mind you, I can't really tell you much. Nothing at all really." She chewed on a bit of carrot as she tried to gather her thoughts. "I guess what I can say is that it is a pretty high-level project that has been going on for years." There, that would have to do.

"They must have a lot of faith in you to give you high-level for your first project."

Apparently, that wouldn't do, as Charlie piped up from the end of the table. She should have taken a moment to gather her thoughts before she spoke, because the next words out of her mouth was not something she planned on telling them.

"Actually, I think Snodgrass expects me to fail." Comically, Hermione slapped her hand to her mouth and groaned.

George's head shot up from where he had been entertaining young Albus, a quizzical yet disgusted look on his face.

"Richard Snodgrass? You work for that git?" George ducked when Molly tossed a roll at him since he was too far for her to reach. He ignored her outcry of 'watch your mouth' and kept his attention on Hermione.

"Well, he's my supervisor but only because our boss assigned him to me." And that was something that she would like to take up with Ashby. Out of all the Unspeakables in the department, why Snodgrass? "You know him?"

"I haven't seen him since Hogwarts. He was never very nice even back then. A little too full of himself. All the praise for how clever and smart he was inflated his head so much it was a wonder he could fit through the doors. Of course, you kind of took care of that when you arrived. Stole his crown and all." George laughed, no one had ever liked Snodgrass. Except the teachers, and Hermione's arrival showed how fickle they could be.

Everyone was quiet for a moment as Hermione sat there, her face turning redder and redder as she realized what George had said.

"You mean that this whole thing was because of his stupid bruised ego?!" Idiotic men! She had spent four months fetching him tea just to make him feel better about himself. She would kill him.

"Probably, yes." He shrugged, though it was easy to see he knew how much this bothered her.

For the rest of the dinner George spent telling stories of him and Fred and how they had pranked Snodgrass. He had made an enemy of the twins when he had snitched on them in their first year. And no one got away unscathed when that happened.

Hearing how many ways Snodgrass had suffered at the twins' hands made Hermione feel better. Which she was sure had been George's intention.

After sundown Hermione could be found outside the house. The air had become rather cool with an approaching thunderstorm, so she had stolen the knitted throw from the couch and had it wrapped around her shoulders.

She gazed up at the sky, her eyes tracing the myriad of stars before her. Lightening in the distance created flashes of light across the dark expanse like overlarge fireflies. Behind her she could hear someone approaching, but any worry she had was gone the moment she caught a glimpse of Teddy's bright hair.

"I'm sorry for telling Mrs. Weasley about your project." Teddy looked down at his feet, hands firmly into his pockets.

She knew it hadn't been a malicious thing on his part. Sometimes his excitement just got the better of him. And really, she adored him for it. Opening the throw, she wrapped one arm around the boy to bring him to her side.

"It's alright, they would have found out anyway."

From inside the house Ron screamed and vowed he would kill George. Both Hermione and Teddy laughed. George had obviously given his brother a practical demonstration of his and Harry's new product.

Their laughter dying down to nothing, the two sat down in the grass against the house wall. They remained in silence just watching the incoming storm while huddled in the blanket.

Hermione's mind was as active as the lightening, giving her flashes of the earlier conversation with Harry. Maybe there was a way to produce results on her project and help her friend at the same time.

Hermione became easily restless when working on a project. Once she had an idea she had to run with it, research it, and simply put… she had to work. So, after the revelation the night before she knew she would have to make a much more thorough search of the department library than she had before.

Her goal was no longer to just prove the gateway theory, but to produce tangible results that not even Snodgrass could deny. Most of the night she had weighed the pros and cons of what she was about to attempt. Could she really play God in this manner? Was it right to? In the end Hermione swept all that aside. It was doubtless she wasn't the first one to attempt it, but she planned to be the first one to actually do it.

A stack of books reaching the top of her head floated at her side. Titles from known scholarly witches and wizards adorned many spines, while others remained blank. She had gathered books dealing with death traditions, rituals, and beliefs. But she had yet to find one on raising the dead that did not deal with the inferi or like creatures. And that was not what she wanted at all.

Several hours into her search she found her concentration broken by the caw of a bird. At the sound her hand stilled, fingers just brushing against the spine of a book. Her heart beat faster and it seemed as though the room had grown colder.

The incessant throaty caw of a raven echoed around her. She could hear it right next to her ear, but when she turned no bird was to be found. In a moment two other ravens joined in. Their cawing like laughter and crying. And though Hermione could almost feel their wings brush against her flesh, no bird was there.

As quickly as the sound came, it left. Brushing it off as her imagination and need for sleep, she gathered up her books and left.

It was just after midnight when Hermione finally returned home. All thoughts of the library and ravens out of her head as she tried to be quiet. Teddy would most likely be asleep and she had no desire to wake him.

Silently she tip-toed to her room and changed. It was nice to be wrapped up in her warm pajamas. She had become chilled earlier and nothing she had done would warm her up.

A smile spread across her face when she went back into the main room. A plate filled with food sat on her coffee table, a small note beside it telling her to eat every bite. That boy knew her too well. Ignoring the plate for the moment, she went to Teddy's room.

Carefully she opened the door to find Teddy sprawled across his bed still in his clothes. She shook her head and went to work. It looked as though the boy had fallen asleep reading, but when Hermione picked up the fallen book it was to find a photo album filled with pictures of his parents.

She remembered when she was younger Harry had one similar. But Teddy had something that Harry had very little of. He had people surrounding him that knew his parents and worked to keep them alive in his mind and his heart.

She set the album on the bedside table, the book open to a page with a single picture. It had been taken long before Lupin and Tonks had married. In it Remus Lupin stood beside the fireplace in the library of number 12, a small black book in one hand. Beside him was a smiling Sirius. But there was something off about that smile. It wasn't happy, it was dark and filled with pain and fear.

She remembered that picture. It had been taken not long after her and Ron were whisked away to Grimmauld Place. It had been evening and everyone had been tired from cleaning all day. Sirius had decided on telling stories and many of them had gathered in the library to listen. She had been enthralled then, not just with Sirius' stories, but with Lupin's. At one-point Ginny had produced a camera and snapped a picture of the two older men.

Looking at it now, Hermione shook her head. Back then they had been old, but they couldn't have been much more than the age she was now. Too young to die. Her fingers traced the lines of first Sirius' face and then Lupin's. They were way too young.

She swallowed back a lump in her throat and grabbed a blanket from a chair. She placed it over Teddy and gave him a kiss upon his forehead, thankful that Teddy would never have to experience such horror in his life.

Author's Note: Alright, a week later than I really wanted to post it, but between work and life….

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.