Disclaimer: No Own. No Money Made. Much love to Arakawa, much disappointment in Rowling.

Epilogue

Or, the Veil

Hermione was unsurprised to see the untimely death of Dolores Umbridge reported in the Daily Prophet the day after the Elric brothers brought Voldemort Concentrate to wherever it was going. She'd simply dropped dead in the mid-afternoon, for no reason the authorities could find.

"That last horcrux must have done to her what the diary tried to do to me," Ginny had said, scowling at the Prophet over Hermione's shoulder. She crossed her arms, huffed. "Couldn't have happened to a more deserving person, but it is a spectacularly shit way to die."

Hermione reckoned that Ginny had the means to know.

Hermione spent a moment scanning the article. She'd been influential, apparently, in the last few months of her life. Hermione had noticed that. "The Wizengamot has a chore ahead of them, untangling all the things she - he? - accomplished recently. And they don't even know that she was most of Voldemort."

There was an exchange of grimaces all around the table. This would be their mess to clean up too, somehow, she was sure of it.

The rest of their education happened at both breakneck speed and at a crawl. Nicholas Flamel took Edward Elric's place as Alchemy professor for the rest of sixth year, but Alchemy was again struck from the elective list after that. Hermione didn't take that for an answer, though. And neither did Draco Malfoy. They kept up their studies with him through correspondence, insisted on becoming his apprentices after graduation. When Luna joined them in France the next year, they learned that she had done much the same.

Right around the time Hermione, Luna, and Malfoy finished their mastery, Harry and Ginny got married. When they were very young, Hermione had thought Ginny's over-the-top crush on Harry had been incontrovertible proof that they were poorly suited. They'd grown together, though, through the events of fifth and sixth year.

Somehow, Ginny and Harry had come to be the people who knew each other best. Hermione was happy for them. Harry, Hermione knew, was increasingly dissatisfied as an auror. She hoped that marriage would help him sort out his priorities.

Ultimately, Malfoy went private sector, moving to his other interest in potions. His research sounded terribly fascinating, all about melding the two disciplines to create more effective potions on shorter timelines, but Hermione had never fancied herself a potioneer. Not for a career, at least.

She and Luna went into government research with no trouble at all. They were, after all, two of Flamel's only three apprentices since Albus Dumbledore himself.

They found themselves back where the brief war with Voldemort had really started for them, nestled down in the Department of Mysteries. It was just as Hermione remembered it, and at first she could hardly stop herself from wincing when she passed the corner where she'd earned her scar from Dolohov. She got over that, though. Just from familiarity, from chatting there with coworkers after a coffee run, from running past it to help stabilize a malfunctioning spell.

The Veil of Death, however, was harder to get comfortable with. It was an uncomfortable sort of thing, even if Sirius hadn't died there. Luna, on the other hand, seemed to regard it as an old friend. Hermione wasn't sure which was the better response.

Just as Hermione was starting to accept its omnipresent whisper, Luna decided to take her friendship with the Veil entirely too far. One day, Hermione rounded a corner into the Veil's chamber, headed to the deeper labs beyond it, and found Luna standing too close to its fluttering curtains.

"You know where to take us, don't you?" she said, her back to Hermione and utterly focused. She was cradling a cat carrier.

"Luna?"

Luna turned her head over her shoulder. "It's a Gate," she said. "And not quite so monitored as the alchemical kind."

"How on Earth do you know that?" Hermione demanded. "The brightest minds of the Department haven't been able to figure out the Veil in hundreds of years!"

Luna faced her properly, head tilting in a way that seemed almost alien. Hermione was used to that alienness now, but she doubted it would ever stop being unsettling. "It's never pretended to be anything else."

"I hate that answer, Luna. Hate it."

Luna gave her a crooked smile. "Would you like to come? We have some old friends I suspect rather miss us."

"This cannot possibly be safe!"

Luna took a different tack. "How many witches get to see other worlds, do you think? The brightest minds of the Department haven't managed that, either." Hermione hated that Luna knew her so well. Luna extended a hand, smiling in utter contentment. "Think fast, Hermione."

There was the echoing sound of other Unspeakables coming down the hall. Hermione had always found Luna impossible to trust on the mundane things, but when stakes were high? Hermione thought fast.

The other Unspeakables passed the Veil. There was only the fluttering whisper of its curtains.

Word Count: 829

Date Posted: 9/11/2023

I know this Epilogue is extremely short, but I hope it leaves everybody with a sense of both fulfillment and curiosity. I know I'd love to know what Hermione and Luna get up to, but that's a story to exist in our minds and hearts, but not the page.

Thank you everyone for your continued support of The Scientist's Lament on both FFN and AO3. To those special folks who have stuck with me since the beginning, holy hell how are you still here?! Thank you all.

Here's to the Elric Brothers!