"Secrets," Harry snarled. "Always secrets. Why can't people just be honest from the start?"
Hermione winced and looked over to Ron, whose color had worsened since Harry had stalked back from Dumbledore's office. He was on a rage, and it was worse than anything they'd ever seen before.
Oh, and how easy it was for him to mutter and scowl and curse even the word "secret" when he had kept so many of his own. She bit back the thought of it before it defensively sputtered from her mouth. She had kept her own secrets, too, she reminded herself. But she was not pacing back and forth in front of the Gryffindor fire, hypocritically raving over the unfairness of them.
He's lost his godfather, she told herself. He wants to be angry at something.
"And you, Hermione!" He spat. "You knew before we left tonight that it could have been a trap! You told me it could've been!"
Well now, there went her restraint. She cried out in indignation, and shouted, "Exactly! I told you! And when you refused to listen to me I went with you. Do not turn this on me, Harry Potter. Don't you dare."
She whirled around and stormed out of the portrait hole, frantically running through the passageways until she found herself at the doors of the Entrance Hall. Panting, both from her anger and from exhaustion, she turned around.
"Think, Hermione. Prancing about on the grounds won't do anything for you."
She collapsed against the wall and drew her knees up to her chest, sobbing with relief and fury. "You filthy mutt!" She cursed back at him. "I was scared to death for you! And you waited so long to talk to me, when I was screaming your name for hours after you fell!"
"Please, my love," Sirius said. He sounded weary. "It is very dark here, and very quiet."
"Where are you?" Hermione asked softly. "Sirius, where are you? I'll find you, I swear I will."
"My lioness, you cannot find me here. It is as good as the land of the dead. I cannot be pulled from here."
"Don't say that," she hissed. "Never say it, Sirius Black. I need you. I need you."
"And I you. Listen to me, Hermione. The Veil is a very well-known dark artifact. It is not something one can return from. There is said to be no communication through it, even as one would stand just beside it," Sirius said gravely. "I cannot be brought back from here."
"But we can communicate, Sirius," she snapped. "And if we can communicate, who is to say that you cannot be taken from there? You will not say it again, mutt. And I will not hear another word of the kind."
He said nothing for a long moment, and then she heard him crying. "I do not wish to leave," he said, "but it is easier to believe that I will remain here forever than to hope for a better outcome and have every dream dashed."
"I know," she said back. "I know, baby. I'll talk to Dumbledore; I'll tell him about what we've done. Just – just don't go anywhere. I still need you, Sirius."
"I love you, Hermione."
"Me too," she answered through a sob. "I love you too."
/x\
Author's Note: Alright, so this is just a prologue. The idea sort of jumped me while I was writing the seventh chapter of Gone Too Long and I wanted to write it up before I lost it. This story will not be a main priority. I will write it when the mood strikes me, or when I have writer's block on my other story. I hope to update it relatively often, but do not hold me to it. Please review if you think I should continue. : )