Unknown Halves

Chapter Six


Serving the tea, Hermione sat down across from Sirius. She had told him everything that George had wanted her to do. He sighed heavily, but had given her no ideas or even given her support other than to say that the store bought digestives tasted good.


“Could you bring him back?” Sirius asked after a few minutes of silence.


“All I can do is guess,” she told him, taking a sip of the hot drink. “I need to look at Percy’s memory, but honestly?” She pursed her lips. “I don’t know.” She laughed quietly to herself. “Oddly enough the one person I would think would have some answers as to this is no longer among the living.”


“Who?” Sirius asked quietly.


“Professor Snape,” she replied. “If there would be anyone, it would be him.” She laughed again. “I can still remember his speech from first year. Being told that you can ‘Put a stopper in death’ at age eleven tends to stick with one.”


Sirius laughed quietly. “I would imagine so.”


Hermione leaned back. She was deep in thought when it occurred to her that there may very well be another wizard she could speak to about this matter.


“What are you about to do?” Sirius asked her, sounding very serious.


“We may not have Severus Snape, but we do have someone else almost as knowledgeable…”


“No,” he told her. “Don’t do it.”


She looked at him. “You give me an alternative and I’ll do it. But until that glorious moment comes, I don’t have a choice.”


“Hermione…”


“What would you do to get Remus back? Or James? Or Lilly? If there was a way, and I’m not saying there is, wouldn’t you do it? Investigate that possibility at the very least?”


Sirius let out a haggard breath. “I see your point. But Merlin, you’re talking about going to see a man that would rather kill you than help you.”


She buried her face in her hand, never seeing George in the shadows or the sigh he heaved before he left the room.


***


George walked into the mausoleum, intending on going straight over to where Fred’s body was lying in a glass sarcophagus. It would remain so until all of the family members had come to terms with the death. When they did, the glass would change to stone. It could last days with some or in other cases it was still clear glass to that day—decades later.


He looked over to Remus. It was still clear, as was the casket that Tonks was in. She looked like she was still among the living, as did her husband. He turned his head and looked over to Albus Dumbledore. He was hollow cheeked and his eyes sunken, clearly mummifying as it was over a year since the former headmaster’s death.


He squeezed his eyes shut. You need to do this, George told himself. Go over there and look at your brother. Say goodbye. But he couldn’t do it. As much as he wanted to, needed to, he just couldn’t make himself look at his dead twin. Sobbing he turned to walk away, when he saw Hermione standing at the entranceway of the crypt. She went over to him, handing him a handkerchief.


“You followed me?” he asked her.


Smiling to herself she said quietly, “No, I-I came here to say goodbye too. I thought you were working on something at your new lab. I was trying to give you alone time. So much for that, hmm?”


He sighed. “Say your goodbyes then. I can’t…”


“The lovely thing about saying goodbyes to the dead is that it can wait,” she murmured, looking outside. “Come on with you, Weasley. The day is beautiful and there are many a prank to be played.”


“On whom?” he asked her.


“Ronald, of course. A sweet revenge that will make the record books I’m sure, dear sir. I just need you to double check my spell work theory.”


He snorted as they walked out of the crypt. “Your spell work will be perfect. It usually is.”


“Yes, it’s good, but perfect? No,” she told him, taking his hand into her own as they kept walking. “I can’t wait to show you my notes.”


***


“Hermione, you are insane if you want to speak to that man.”


Shacklebolt stood up and walked over to the window, looking out to the light drizzling that was hitting the pane for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. Of all the things he thought he would have to deal with as the new Minister of Magic, this had to be the oddest. True, he had seen all the postage the newly divorced pure blood wizard was receiving from witches from around the world wanting to marry him, but he didn’t think Hermione Granger would be one of them. And to want Lucius Malfoy enough to want to get a personal visit with the man? Would wonders ever cease?


“If you want to marry him that…”


“What?” she snapped. “Where in the name of Merlin did you get that idea from?”


The man blushed. “You mean to say that you don’t…”


She shook her head slowly.


“But you broke up with Ron.”


She nodded this time.


He frowned. “But then why do you want to visit with Lucius Malfoy?”


“Mr. Malfoy, for all his faults, is a very knowledgeable man. He knows obscure spells, potions, and whatnot that could be very helpful. That being said, I thought I could speak to him. Begin a dialogue as it were.”


“He isn’t exactly a colleague of yours,” he said dryly.


“That is an understatement if I ever heard one,” she muttered, but then added in a louder voice, “I’m not going to see him to become his best pal or even a close associate. I’m doing this to find out what’s in that head of his that can be of help to others in this world of ours.”


“Chances are he won’t help you,” he pointed out to her.


“Not at first,” she murmured. “But then this is only the beginning of a very long sentence. And who knows, he might just gush the information after a time just to have something to talk about?”


Shacklebolt narrowed his eyes. “What are you about, witch?”


She blinked at the new Minister of Magic with an air of innocence. “Who me? Nothing. Nothing at all.”


***

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