Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter characters. I get tired of saying that!

Warning: Contains major *OOTP SPOILERS* and *SB/RL SLASH*. If you wish to avoid those things, please turn back now.

Notes: *PLEASE READ!* This story is COMPLETELY AU, meaning it never happened and probably never will (sadly). This is just me trying to bring back the character I love the most.



~*~*~*~*~
Back from Beyond the Veil, Part 8




God, it feels like it only rains on me.....

-Metallica, My World'




Sirius lay flat on his back beside Remus in the anonymous hotel bed, an arm over his eyes. He was exhausted after the day's events, but he couldn't sleep. A pounding headache had started someplace over his left eye and was spreading unmercifully. Hermione's words kept repeating in his mind... I hope you're happy with yourself, Sirius Black! This time you are a murderer!

He whimpered softly, trying to fight down the lump in his throat. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes and he willed them to go away. He could still hear Fred's terrified scream and the sickening crack of the floor, mingled with Hermione's angry words. She was right. He was a murderer this time. It was his fault Fred had died... his fault Lily and James were dead.... all his fault....

Thinking of Lily and James did away with any restraint he had had. He began to cry, as quietly as he could, shaking with suppressed sobs. Remus stirred beside him and whispered urgently, Siri! Love, are you all right?

Sirius shook his head, still crying. He allowed Remus to pull him into his arms, and leaned against his lover. Almost fifteen years of loneliness and guilt welled up inside him and spilled over, and his hoarse sobs increased as he clung to Remus, who stroked his hair and soothed him. When Sirius had calmed down a little, Remus kissed his forehead and whispered, What is it? Love, tell me what's wrong.

It's all my fault, Remmie, Sirius sniffled. Hermione is right. I am a murderer. I killed Fred! I killed Lily and James.... It's because of me that Molly and Arthur lost one of their children, because of me that Harry had to suffer through his childhood without his parents!

No, no! Don't tell yourself that! Remus said, kissing his cheek.

It is! ... If I - if I - if I had really died, you'd all be better off! Sirius said fiercely, raising his tearstained face to look at Remus.

Sirius! Don't even say that! Remus said sharply. Listen to me! It's not your fault that anyone died! Peter was the entire reason James and Lily died! You couldn't have prevented it! How were any of us to know it was Peter who was working for Voldemort? And Fred - Fred's death was an unfortunate accident, but if you have to blame anyone, blame Kreacher! He was the whole reason Fred was in the drawing room to begin with! He placed a firm kiss on his lover's lips and looked at him sternly. Sirius, none of this is your fault. How were you to know that Bellatrix would somehow escape and set fire to the house?

Sirius looked into Remus' unyielding gaze. What Remus was saying made sense... deep down, he knew it wasn't his fault, but the part of him which still mourned James and Lily had always been quick to blame himself for anything. He began to cry again, but this time they were tears of relief. Remus held him until Sirius' sobs subsided once more. Finally, Sirius choked down his tears and looked pleadingly at Remus.

Yes, dearest?

Make love to me, Sirius murmured, resting his head on the werewolf's shoulder. I need... I need...

What he needed was assurance and comfort.... Remus' soft kisses and loving embraces. But he couldn't say it aloud. He hugged Remus tighter, willing his mate to understand.

.... I need to know you love me.

You already know that quite well, Remus said softly, but he undressed himself and Sirius, laying his lover back and spreading Sirius' long mane across the pillows.

I'll always be here for you, he murmured.


~*~*~*~*~


Around eight the next morning, as Sirius and Remus lay asleep in each other's arms, Fleur Delacour entered the hospital room her boyfriend shared with Hermione to find the pair poking halfheartedly at their breakfasts and discussing the headline on the front page of the Daily Prophet - Bellatrix Lestrange Cause of Housefire at Wizarding Home.

Fleur blew Hermione a kiss, and sat on the edge of Bill's bed, giving him a kiss on the cheek. She gave the newspaper in Bill's hands a curious glance.

Ees it safe to ave that in ze newspaper? Fleur asked, biting her lower lip anxiously. With ze Order and all?

Not mentioned, Bill said, making a face as his plastic fork refused to make a dent in his rubbery pancakes. Hermione and I read it over four times, and it doesn't say a thing about the Order. The Prophet doesn't know anything about it; they don't know the Order exists, after all. They only reported the obvious facts - a fire in a Wizarding home, two dead. He closed his eyes for a moment, and Fleur took his hand, knowing he was thinking of Fred.

'E was very brave, she murmured in his ear. I know you miss him, but e was trying to save someone. Even if it was ze elf, is was an onarable thing to do.

Bill said softly, but there was sorrow in his voice. Evidently Hermione noticed; she set aside her breakfast hastily and mumbled something about going to the Muggle Contact Office to send a message to her parents. When Hermione had gone, Fleur pulled Bill into her arms, resting his head on her chest and stroking his long hair. Bill shut his eyes tight and hugged Fleur tightly. He whimpered.

Fleur kissed the top of his head. It ees all right, she murmured. Cry if you need to.

Her gentle words finally brought forth the hot, salty tears Bill had been trying to hold back since he had found out about Fred's death. He sobbed hoarsely on Fleur's shoulder, soaking her robes, but she didn't complain. She held him until the stream of tears finally died up, and offered him a box of tissues as he gently pulled away from her and sat back up.

It's veery ard on you, she whispered, finger-combing his hair away from his face. When Gabrielle.... when I thought she was urt, it crushed me....

You don't even have half an idea how bad this hurts, Bill croaked. Fleur... he was my little brother... I shouldn't have let him come in....

You ad no choice! You were Fleur argued. You ad no idea e was going to follow....

There was a pause. Bill wiped at his eyes with a wad of tissues and finally murmured, Hermione's wrong. It's not Sirius' fault. He was trying to help me. If I hadn't been so stupid...

You were also trying to save a life! Fleur said softly. Your brother's death was an accident - e was simply in ze wrong place at ze wrong time.

She waited until he had gained control of himself, then picked up his brush from the nightstand and began brushing his flaming hair into a ponytail. Listen to me. I'm going to elp you get washed up, and zen we are going to ze tea shop. A ot cup of cocoa will

Bill took a deep, calming breath, feeling a warm upsurge of love for his girlfriend. It impressed him that she could be so firm and sure in a time like this, but it was reassuring. He managed a wavery smile. I'd like that.


~*~*~*~*~


Hermione knocked softly on the door of her room before entering, to make sure she wasn't interrupting Fleur and Bill's conversation. She had gone to the Muggle Contact Office and sent a short letter to her parents - How are you, I'm fine, food's horrible, see you soon - and then wandered the halls for awhile, the events of the past three days circling in her mind. Distraught over Fred and feeling slightly guilty about her argument with Sirius, she had spent nearly twenty minutes staring out the windows on the third floor.

Her knock got no answer, and she pushed open the door to find the room empty. Bill and Fleur must have wandered off someplace. With a soft sigh, Hermione climbed back into bed and pulled out the book she had been reading. But she had barely gotten through a page before a soft knock sounded, and she looked up to see George standing in the doorway, looking unusually timid.

Er... hi, Hermione, he said shyly. Um.... d'you mind if I sit with you for awhile?

Of course not, Hermione said, feeling a fresh pang of sorrow and sympathy as George trudged into the room with a devastated expression on his face.

He sat at the foot of her bed, his hands twisting together nervously. Several times, he looked as though he was going to say something, and would open his mouth to talk, but then close it quickly and look down at his fingers, apparently changing his mind. This continued for a few minutes, the silence becoming more and more awkward, until Hermione finally decided to speak up first.

Er.. George? she asked softly, and he jumped and gave her a frightened look. This wasn't at all like him. Concerned, Hermione asked, A-are you okay?

He didn't answer for a minute. Just as she was going to ask again, he gave a cynical type of chuckle, shaking his head. Okay. She asks if I'm okay, he said, evidently to thin air. I've just lost my twin brother, who was my very best friend - and she asks if I'm okay. He looked at her, a bitter smile playing along his lips. Hermione, I'm anything but okay. His expression darkened and Hermione cringed. Sometimes you're totally wrong, do you know that? he said, his voice rising. God, Hermione, sometimes you don't have a clue how anyone's feeling!

George, please, Hermione begged desperately, Don't shout.... just - just tell me what I can do to help....

George looked at the ceiling and blinked rapidly; tears were now running down his freckled cheeks.

I loved him, Hermione.

I know you did, she said unhappily, reaching for his hand.

He pulled it away. No, you don't. I loved him, Hermione. I.... I... I knew it was wrong, but... but... He faltered a little, then continued. Angelina... I used to be so jealous of her....

Shocked, Hermione tugged nervously at the ribbon at the throat of her nightgown. What do you mean?

I was in love with my brother! George suddenly shouted, his brown eyes blazing. Dammit, can't you see that? He buried his face in his hands and began to weep. A wave of pity and sadness rushed over Hermione. She wanted to understand George, to comfort him. His confession came as a complete surprise, but Hermione pushed it away and took George in her arms. He was her friend, and he was hurting, and she wanted nothing in this world more than to be able to help him heal the hurt from losing his brother. She did the only thing she could think of at the moment. She kissed him.

And out in the hallway, Ron backed away from the door slowly, his eyes wide. Finally he gave himself a shake and broke into a run.


~*~*~*~*~


Ron? Ron, it's time for dinner, if you're hungry.

Penelope's soft voice spoke from his doorway. Ron didn't move from his face-down position on the bed. He grunted and shook his head.

Well.... I'll keep some warm for you, if you change your mind.

The door clicked shut softly as Penelope headed back downstairs. She and Percy were staying at the Burrow with the other Weasleys and Harry; right now Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were at St. Mungo's, visiting Bill and Hermione.

Ron lay absolutely still, his eyes shut. He could hear the ghoul in the attic wailing mournfully, and the faint clatter of plates and forks as everyone downstairs began eating.Although his stomach was growling almost as loudly as a hungry manticore, he ignored the sound along with the other noises of the house.

He felt as though the bottom had dropped out of his universe. For awhile, everything had seemed perfect and bright - Sirius' return from the dead had been a miracle, and put everyone in cheerful moods - but now, with the loss of Fred, and what he had seen at St. Mungo's, Ron felt like he could never be cheerful again.

Of course, he had never given Hermione any reason to think he liked her better than a friend. Finally raising his head, he looked at the bouquet of enchanted, never-wilting roses he had been bringing to her - now lying on the floor along with his shoes and jacket. The dark red petals of the roses looked nearly black in the deep red glow of the sunset streaming through his window; the colour of heart's blood.

It was like being torn into pieces. One part of him nearly numb with the loss of his older brother; one part of him furious at Hermione and George; another part of him desperately clinging to the hope that what he had seen had been an illusion, or a hallucination, or a dream..... the part that prayed he would wake up soon and find out he had imagined it all.... Sirius alive, the Death Eaters and Voldemort dead or gone, everyone happy.... Fred alive, and Hermione acting the way she always had around the twins - slightly exasperated and always disapproving.

At some point Ron fell asleep. He didn't really know when; his dreams were the same as his waking thoughts, and his sleep was far from restful.


~*~*~*~*~


The brightest star in the sky.

It was funny, Sirius thought to himself as he gazed up at the stars from the terrace outside his and Remus' hotel room. Named after such a beautiful and important celestial body, and look what he had grown up to become. No matter what Remus said, Sirius had the blood of three innocent people on his hands. Even after his pardon, the majority of the Wizarding community regarded him with suspicion, some with outright dislike.

They still blame me, he thought. for everything... for Lily, for James, for Fred. They know my story, but how many of them believe it?

Now he knew how Harry felt. Not looking away from the stars, he fumbled for the half-empty bottle of wine sitting on the terrace rail beside his elbow. He raised the bottle to the sky, laughed sarcastically, and shouted, Let's have a toast! A toast to Sirius bloody Black, may-he-live-for-ever, the murderer!

Silence reigned as he threw his head back and drained the last half of the bottle. The stars shone coldly down at him, and as he lowered the bottle and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, a raging anger settled in him, along with a need to do something, anything.

He tossed back his head once more and screamed as loud as he could, at the same time smashing the wine bottle on the railing.

A sharp crack sounded from below as a window was flung open. CAN THE SHITE! SOME PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP!

SOD OFF! Sirius shouted back furiously as the window slammed shut. He kicked angrily at the broken glass on the floor, sending some flying.

I hate myself, he muttered morosely, looking back up at the sky. My life's been nothing but shit. Makes me wonder why Remus sticks around.... must be the mate-for-life' thing....

He stood absolutely still for awhile, sourly contemplating the heavens, a light summer breeze rifling through his midnight hair. He brushed it impatiently out of his eyes, annoyed, but more with himself than anything else. His dark eyes lowered themselves to the jagged edge of the broken wine bottle still clenched in his hand, and he sighed. Raising the bottle up before his eyes, he tilted it this way and that, watching the starlight and the hazy glow of the streetlamps below gleaming on the glass.

Slowly, almost dreamily, he lowered the bottle to his wrist, studying the faint blue tracing of veins under his pale skin. He didn't feel a thing as the sharp edge broke his skin, dark red blood welling up quickly from the cut.

Smiling, he crossed the cut with another one, making an X on his wrist. Blood ran down his arm in steadily thickening streams as Sirius finally allowed the other half of the bottle to fall from his fingers and smash on the floor. Unmindful of the drops of blood beginning to spatter the terrace floor, Sirius raised his arm to the sky and shouted, There! That's what all of you want, isn't it?! You all want me dead, don't you! Well, next time I won't get so lucky, and you'll get your wish!

Sirius! What are you shouting about?

Remus had come out on the terrace, still wearing his light summer jacket. He gasped when he saw Sirius' bloody arm and the broken glass littering the floor.

His mate blinked slowly at him, coming back to his senses; he gasped in pain when he realized what he had done to himself. Remus, looking horrified, pulled his mate into the bathroom; not being very good at healing wounds with magic, he pawed wildly through the Muggle medicine kit and pulled out bandages. As he wet a washcloth and cleaned the blood from Sirius' arm, he saw that the wound was deep but not fatal; already the bleeding was starting to slow. Sirius had missed the main vein in his arm by a hair's thickness.

Remus tied the bandage tightly, glaring ferociously at his lover. Sirius, what were you thinking of?

The raven-haired man rubbed his forehead. he said at last. I... wasn't thinking.

That was obvious. Remus said coldly. Don't tell me you're still thinking about Fred?

It's my fault he died, Sirius said, before he could stop himself.

Remus slapped him hard across the face.

They stared at each other for a few moments, eyes wide. The look of anger in Remus' hazel eyes faded almost instantly, to be replaced with regret and anxiety. Oh, Siri... I'm so sorry...

Don't be, Sirius said gruffly, pulling Remus into a one-armed hug, holding his bandaged wrist away from them. It was throbbing painfully now. Don't be sorry, I deserved that.

Remus sniffled. No, you didn't... I.. just lost my head for a moment...

Sirius kissed his lover. I'm sorry I scared you, he said softly. After what you did for me... He was silent, the sight of Remus offering his own blood for his mate's life lodged firmly in his mind. He suppressed a shudder and stroked Remus' hair. Look... it's been a long day. I can't give you any explanation besides stress and a little too much to drink... but I really am sorry I upset you...

Remus looked up at him, tears glistening on his long eyelashes. I know you are. He let out a shuddery sigh and wound his fingers through Sirius' hair. Don't ever do that again.

I won't..... I promise.


~*~*~*~*~


Ginny Weasley was curled up in an armchair by the fire, looking gloomily into the flickering flames and doing her best not to think of anything in particular. Toying absentmindedly with the end of her long braid, she closed her eyes and had to fight back another threatening flood of tears as Fred's face appeared in the darkness behind her closed eyelids and seemed to swim before her. Her eyes flew open and she yawned, exhausted but positively dreading the prospect of sleep.

With a soft hoot, Pigwidgeon flitted down to perch on her knee. Ginny stroked the tiny owl's back with one finger and smiled tiredly.

You know what, Pig? I think I'd give absolutely anything I own to have life go back to normal.

Pigwidgeon hooted back, as if in response. The tired smile faded from Ginny's face and she turned her head to look out the window. Twinkling brightly just in the corner of the window was the star she knew from her Astronomy class as Sirius. She bit her bottom lip nervously, her mind turning from her brother to Harry's godfather. It all seemed so... weird. Sirius had returned, but Fred had died... and while that might have been all Kreacher's fault, Ginny couldn't help but wonder if it was one of those eye for an eye' things....



She turned to see Harry standing in the doorway, the firelight glinting on his glasses. He was wearing his pj's, and had a concerned look on his face. Are you okay?

He took a seat on the sofa as she shook her head. No, not really....

It's Fred, isn't it? he asked her quietly.

Well... partly, Ginny replied, suddenly feeling a strange mix of fear and shyness. What would Harry say if she voiced the opinion that Sirius' return seemed suspiciously connected to Fred's death? Would he get mad, and begin yelling like he always did when something upset him? Or would he take her seriously, and listen to what she had to say?

Yelling seemed the most likely prospect; but right now Ginny didn't care. So she took a deep breath and mumbled, You don't think that - that Fred might have died because - because of Sirius?

Harry's expression darkened significantly. You think Fred died because of Sirius? You're thinking he killed Fred?

Ginny said, hastily. No, I know Sirius, and I trust him! I know he never would have tried to harm Fred... but do you think Bellatrix tried to kill Sirius, and Fred died instead? ... or something like that?

He looked away, but he didn't seem angry or upset - he seemed to be honestly contemplating her question.

he finally muttered. I think Bellatrix wanted to kill Sirius, but obviously she couldn't just creep downstairs and stab him... someone would have heard her, and she had no wand... He ran his hand through his untidy hair in frustration. But the whole thing I'm wondering is, how did Bellatrix start the fire? She didn't have anything else with her but her wand; I know Dumbledore would have taken anything she had on her away, especially dangerous stuff like matches.

Maybe she didn't need a wand to start the fire... Ginny mused. Maybe it was one of those panic-induced bits when people do magic to help them without meaning to....

Harry shrugged unhappily. He rose and rested his hand on her shoulder. It's late, we should be getting to bed. Can you sleep?

Ginny shook her head. No... every time I try, I think of Fred.... She screwed up her face in an effort not to cry, but a few tears rolled down her cheek anyway. Before she could even fumble a tissue from the pocket of her dressing-gown, Harry bent and brushed his lips against hers.

Wide-eyed, she stared at him as he straightened up and blushed. Um.... g'night, he mumbled, bright red, and hurried away, leaving Ginny to stare after him and wonder.


~*~*~*~*~


All right, you two. Out with it!

Mrs. Weasley, looking very tired and upset, finished the Imperturbable Charm she was putting on the kitchen door and turned to Sirius and Andromeda, who exchanged looks. At Remus' suggestion, the Order of the Phoenix was meeting today at the Burrow to find out exactly what it was that Sirius and his cousin were hiding.

Andromeda fiddled with her bangles. Well, Molly - erm.... the other day at the hospital, I gave Sirius a - a - something - that he can use against the Death Eaters....

And what would this something be? Kingsley Shacklebolt's deep voice rumbled from it's owner's place beside the stove.

Sirius and Andromeda exchanged another look, and then Sirius sighed and reached into the neck of his robes, drawing out a thin silver chain. Hanging from it was a delicate star pendant, and something that looked quite out of place - a huge, chunky silver ring set with a ruby and engraved with mysterious runes. Everyone stared at it as Sirius removed the ring from his necklace and then dropped the chain back into his robes.

What is it? Tonks breathed, brushing her bangs out of her eyes and leaning forward for a closer look.

A very old ring, her mother answered as Sirius passed the ring to Moody, who examined it curiously. It's been in our family for eight hundred years; traditionally, only the eldest male child of each generation can use it... In our case, it got passed on to me, because of... the family's opinion of Sirius.

Moody handed the ring to Bill. Not to be rude, but I thought your family -

Hated me too, yes, Andromeda said dryly. I really can't say what made Sirius' mother give it to me; I suppose it was because I was the only one who came to visit her on her deathbed. With my uncle and Regulus dead, and Sirius and Bellatrix in Azkaban, she had no one else to give it to. Narcissa didn't want it.... I don't think she knew what it did, or she'd have never refused.

The ring was slowly making its way around the room, being examined by all the Order members. Mr. Weasley looked up from it, his brow furrowed.

Well, what does it do? he asked curiously.

It controls fire, Sirius said.

This was obviously not the answer the room had expected; everyone looked either surprised or suspicious. Moody's magical eye swerved back towards the ring, now in Kingsley's hands; but his regular eye remained fixed beadily upon Sirius and Andromeda.

You're not kidding, are you? he growled. No, I can see you're not. Either you're telling the truth or you at least think you are.

Andromeda bit her lip nervously. I'm pretty sure that's what it does. Like I already said, I couldn't use it. The original maker of this ring put all kinds of enchantments and spells on it to limit the people who could use it. She eyed the ring as Kingsley passed it to Hestia Jones. But I know the story behind it, and I know the qualifications.

And I'm the lucky one, Sirius said sarcastically, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

It's pretty powerful, isn't it? Tonks asked.

Yep. And no matter what your dear mother says, I have no idea how to use it.

But you can learn, a voice said quietly from the corner.

Everyone jumped and turned to see Dumbledore clambering out of the fireplace, brushing ash off his scarlet robes. An instant later, the kitchen became doubly crowded as a flash of green fire appeared in the fireplace and Hagrid climbed out to join them.

Dumbledore took the ring from Hestia and held it up to the light, peering critically at it. He studied it for several minutes, while the others looked on in silence. Finally Dumbledore lowered the ring and fixed his piercing blue eyes on Sirius.

This is the original Black family heirloom, the Ring of Fire. It's true that it's extremely unpredictable and dangerous... but you, Sirius, have the power within you to control it. He crossed the room and pressed the ring into Sirius' hands. Slowly, Sirius slipped it onto the ring finger of his right hand. He looked down at it as if seeing it for the first time, then swallowed.

I want to use this ring to protect Harry, and Remus..... and everyone I love, he murmured, and looked back up at Dumbledore. But you're going to have to teach me.




To Be Continued......