Characters (c): J.K. Rowling

Plot (c): Ancientalchemy

I wasn't exactly sure how I was going to start this because the first chapter isn't really an opening chapter...This one is longer and more descriptive and all that. I was going to wait awhile to write it so that I could collect some thoughts on how I wanted to do this, but I got bored and felt that I really needed to get the second chapter out because the first one doesn't really explain anything and yeah...have fun.

Lost Hope

Sirius tumbled over and over nonstop for what seemed eight lifetimes. Every minute he was screaming out his lungs but he couldn't hear himself. He'd try to grip onto something, there had to be something around here he couldn't be completely alone in this massive gaping glitch in time. What had happened? Why was he here? The memories started to slowly flow back to him. Harry rushing to the Department of Mysteries, everyone running to save him, fighting Beatrix, the horrible feeling. Even here, in nothing, it was better then what he had felt when the curse hit him. He knew she had used the death curse, there was none other that could have caused such torment. But why was he still alive? If you could call this living. But the heart inside of him was still beating; he could still feel his body around him even if it could not touch anything else. He tried to open his eyes but the spinning was too much. It had to stop soon, this couldn't go on forever.

Sirius went to take a deep breath and found he couldn't. There was no air around him, he was lost amidst nothing. He had become nothing and would forever remain that way. He started to panic as the thought set in on him that if he could not breathe in he would suffocate and die in one of the most painful ways imaginable. If there was no air around him, then what was propelling his bulk forward? As if in response, the spinning stopped abruptly and he fell forward. His knees hit a hard surface and he let out a tremendous roar. Afterwards realizing that he couldn't breathe therefore he must not be able to make such a sound. As he stopped and looked around, finally opening his eyes, he saw that everything around him was black. Yet there was a stable bleakness below him. He was standing on it. His legs moved mechanically around and his torso followed. His mind was lost to wonder and awe. How was all of this possible? It was as if he was in a very large black box that he would never escape from. Make everything worse, he was stuck there alone. He glanced up and saw nothing but black, though it didn't really surprise him. He sat down and imagined a nice black couch to sit on. As he rocked backwards he felt something press firmly against his back. With his hands he felt it. Felt the large cushions, firm back, soft armrests.

"How is this possible? If I wish for something it appears?" He whispered out loud to himself, though his ears heard nothing. He spoke the words, just as he did when he was outside of this box. But no sound came out. He could hear it clearly in his head, but not through his ears.

With a deep sigh he allowed himself to sink down into the couch. He wished to sleep, hoping that when he woke up he'd be back at Grimuald Place, even if it meant he was stuck back with Kretcher. As his eyes closed slowly he thought of Harry. The thought jolted him awake and he ran, ran to find the end of this place to find the wall to this prison. The further he ran, the faster he ran nothing happened. He didn't know if he was running or not. Was he still in place? Was the couch just a few feet behind him? He would not stop, he could not stop. If he were to stop then the chance to find the edge might never appear again. For some reason he felt that the only way he could get out of this place and back to Harry was if he never stopped running, he would run forever and at the end he would find the wall. He imagined it in his head. The black bleakness would engulf him the entire time but finally he would smack into a hard surface. For a few minutes he was trace the wall with his hand till he found a cut out, a door. The door would magically open and he would walk back out from under the veil and back into the Department of Mysteries.

It had to have been at least a day that he had been running towards Harry. He was exhausted, and yet he had never felt more invigorated and energetic. He felt this place would allow him to run forever until the place finally collapsed in on itself, but he would not wait for that day. Today would be the day. Slowly his feet were slowing down. No matter how much he told his brain to make the long thin legs to go faster they wouldn't. There was another force at work, a much stronger will that was forcing his body to submit to it's will. He eventually came to a complete stop and gave out a great cry of defeat.

"NO! Please just let me run! I can get to Harry! Your stopping me from getting to Harry! Hold on Harry! Don't feel the grieve yet, don't give in to the pain and torment! I'm coming. I will not leave you. alone. in...this...world."

His voice eventually died out. All hope left his mind and his body. Perhaps he would never see Harry again, never get to embrace him in a hug. Never get to see his smile, hear his laugh, see a happy glint in his deep green eyes. Everything had been ripped away from him. What small happiness he had felt after Lily and James' death was gone now. There was nothing left for him. Maybe it'd be better to just crawl into a ball and let the darkness devour him.