Harry Potter A New Twenty-Two

**A/N: It's been a while since I've written anything, but being a part-time student and having more time for boredom and distraction has given me the chance to write a bit more lately, so I've started a few new projects. This is kind of my take on a Sirius/Hermione, same age relationship, except without the time-travel. Bear with me. As always, please read, review, and enjoy**!

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><p>Hermione Granger stood in the basement kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place, mentally checking some of the calculations scrawled across her many pages of notes on the table. Satisfied with her math, she turned to the open potions kit next to her and carefully measured 3 58 ounces of Asphodel and 2 1/3 ounces of Fluxweed into her mortar, and proceeded to start grinding the ingredients into a very fine dust.

It had been four years since what would have been Hermione's final year at Hogwarts. The summer after everything, she had sat her N.E.W.T.s, and as predicted, did an incredible job on all of them. She had quickly joined the Experimental Spells and Potions division of the Department of Mysteries, and that was where she had been working for the past three and a half years.

Even though she was well known as the brightest witch of her age, and as one third of the Golden Trio, even Hermione had to start at the bottom of the ladder in the Department of Mysteries. Her big break had come two years prior when, using a complicated series of magnifying glasses, microscope and telescope lenses, and cameras, she had been able to copy and later decipher the many ruins that were etched along the stone arch that held what most people simply called the Death Veil.

She had been able to come up with a retrieval potion and spell that, using the DNA of the person who had been lost through the Veil, could pull them back into the living world.

Sirius was the only one who had been retrieved as of yet. Not many known people had fallen through the Veil, and those that did had done so many years ago, meaning that there was no longer useable or accessible DNA. In fact, in Sirius' case, the only reason they were able to retrieve him was because nobody had dared enter his upstairs bedroom at Grimmauld Place. When Hermione finally did out of desperation, she had been able to pull a few pieces of hair out of a comb that had been haphazardly thrown in the corner of the room.

After throwing the potion at the foot of the Veil and reciting the long incantation Hermione had come up with, Sirius Black finally stumbled back out of the Veil. He was wearing the same robes he had on that day, and looked as if he hadn't aged a day. He also looked very confused, as if he had expected to stumble back into the battle that he had left so abruptly six years ago.

Harry had of course been notified immediately, and was ecstatic, but in the end, it was decided that Sirius should go back to living at Grimmauld Place, since it was just Hermione there, and Harry, Ginny, and Ron all lived together. They also weren't sure how Sirius would do actually living in the house that his best friend had died in, even if it had been completely rebuilt.

Hermione shook her head, and with it shook away the memories. Her current project was a time-reversal potion. It was her idea for something to replace the Ministry stock of Time Turners that they had destroyed years earlier. Now it was just a matter of getting the potion right…

Her Asphodel and Fluxweed mixture was as fine as sand, and ready to be added to the rest of the potion boiling in the giant fireplace. She carefully added it to the cauldron, and patiently counted to 37 as she stirred counterclockwise, and then to 21 as she stirred the opposite direction.

She peered into the simmering potion, and happy with the golden color it had turned, she cast a cautionary fire-preventative charm around the flames, gathered her notes with a wave of her wand, packed up her potion kit with a second, and dimmed the lights as she went up to bed.

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><p>The next morning, Hermione was sitting at the kitchen table, fully immersed in the <em>Daily Prophet<em>, when she heard Sirius come downstairs. "Breakfast's on the stove," she said absently.

"Hey, Hermione? What did you say you were working on right now?" he asked from the doorway.

Hermione kept reading, not sparing him a passing glance. "I didn't, Sirius, and you know it. I'm an Unspeakable, so I can't speak about what I'm working on, really."

"You told me quite a bit about your research on the Veil," he countered.

"That was only because you were very directly involved with my Veil research. Why are we arguing about this, Sirius?" she asked, bored and still distracted by the paper.

"Because I'm pretty sure I'm directly involved with this research as well. Put the damn paper down and look at me, Hermione!" he practically yelled.

With a drawn out sigh, Hermione set the paper on the table in front of her and looked up toward the doorway. She then spilled her hot tea all over the paper and herself in her haste to grab her wand.

The man in the doorway was not Sirius as she had ever known him, and yet, it was unmistakably him. The lines and gauntness that those years in Azkaban had marred his face with had disappeared like they had never been there at all. His dark hair, which had been seeing the beginnings of premature graying, was sleek and dark, with tendrils falling casually over his sparkling gray eyes, which had definitely not held that sparkle the day before. The untied housecoat over his bare chest showed tone and muscle that had gone to waste in prison and never come back, and all of the runic tattoos were gone. The only tattoo was a large paw print under his right collarbone.

"You… you look like…" Hermione stammered, at a loss for words.

He smirked. "I reckon I look a lot like I would have at right about your age had I not been in Azkaban. So I'll ask you again, what sort of potion are you working on right now? Because it appears that once again, I have to thank you for your brilliance."

A look of dawning horror crossed Hermione's face as she rushed to the fireplace. "Damn it, Sirius! Did you actually drink from an unknown potion? You can't really be that dense!"

He looked affronted. "I was rather pissed last night, and when I got home I thought you had left soup on for me. So I had a few sips before I decided that it didn't taste very good, and went up to bed. Then I woke up like this."

Hermione looked at him exasperatedly as she pulled out her notes and potions kit again. "When have I ever left food out for you on nights that I know you're drinking yourself stupid? I really thought you were smarter than that, Sirius. You're really quite lucky that this is all that happened to you, you know. An untested potion could have just as easily killed you. Again."

While she was scribbling away at her notes, and bottling a few portions of the golden potion before banishing the rest of it, Sirius poured them both new cups of tea and sat down at the table with his feet up watching her.

"I don't think you understand just how drunk I was last night. I am… er, maybe _was_, a 37-year-old wizard, who _does_ actually know a thing or two about how to handle unknown potions, especially ones in this house. So is this going to be permanent? You won't see me complaining if it is."

"But, even if you were drunk, Sirius…" Hermione said, shaking her head and trailing off. "I don't know. We'll have to see. The Fluxweed was meant to make it have dynamic properties, but then again, it was meant to be a time-reversal potion, kind of like a Time-Turner, but it clearly was more of a de-aging potion than a time-reversal one. Fascinating really, I was sure I had it right. Must have been too much Asphodel…"

She stopped her mumbling and peered up at him from across the table. "You still have all the mental capacity you had yesterday?"

"I remember everything except for the lost Veil years and whatever the hell I actually drank last night, if that's what you mean."

She nodded briskly. "I have to go into work and report this. Don't go anywhere. I'll be back in a few hours with Harry."

"This is my house. You can't tell me to not go anywhere," Sirius countered, lazily.

"Actually, it's mine, and you know it," Hermione said, casting one more appraising look at the apparently young man in her kitchen. "Stay put. And put some clothes on!"

22-year-old Sirius Black looked down at his bare chest and shrugged approvingly as she tore out of the room. He wasn't very likely to get dressed any time soon.


End file.

Harry Potter, Humor, Romance