‘Harry saw Sirius duck Bellatrix’s jet of red light; he was laughing at her... The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest. The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock...’
- J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.
Sirius Black was falling, falling backwards; he could feel it. He was going to fall flat on his back; there was nothing behind him to save him except the cold, hard stone floor. He reached out his hands to try and grab the strange black material that was billowing around him. What was it? Oh yes, he must have fallen through that veil he’d been standing in front of.
His arms spun madly, almost comically, he thought, as the material slid through his hands like smoke, and with a painful thud that knocked all the breath out of him, he crashed onto the hard stone floor. His wand spun out of his hand, and skidded to a stop a few feet away from his right foot.
He barely left himself a moment to catch his breath before, wincing, he scrambled onto his knees and snatched his wand off the floor, and jumped to his feet. He was no longer grinning as he darted back to the ancient stone arch. Bellatrix was the only thought on his mind now. She had sent that curse at him, and Sirius wanted revenge. He was ready now, ready to make his comeback and finish her off. She had caused him pain; but he was going to double that. She would be a meaningless, shivering wreck when he finished with her. She would pay, not only for trying to hurt him; he was over that kind of revenge now. He was going to curse her merely for being a Black, for representing everything that he hated in that terrible house. She would take his anger for having to go back, back to a house that reminded him of the people he hated; her and her family. They were no relatives of his.
He snatched the veil aside, and shook the dark hair out of his eyes, almost snarling like a dog, looking about him for his prey, but what he saw made him jump back in surprise and make him feel very much wrong-footed.
There was nobody there. Not a soul. The room was empty; the fight that had been taking place only seconds before had vanished completely. There was no Harry, no Bellatrix, no Moony, nobody. The large hall was completely and utterly deserted.
He hung back, uncertainly, his heart still pounding with the adrenaline of battle. The sound rang in his ears. It seemed to be echoing around the place. Where was everybody? He was sure they had been there before, he had seen them! He had cursed Dolohov, Dolohov who should be lying there, trapped by his godson’s Body Binding Curse. And Tonks had fallen from the steps, he had seen her! Where was she? Where was anyone? How could they have disappeared so suddenly? It had only taken him a second to fall through the veil after Bellatrix’s curse had hit him. Hadn’t it?
He looked back at the veil, slightly apprehensive now. Had it done something to him? Taken him somewhere different, like a Portkey, or somehow transported him through time? If so, then where was he? Where was he in time? How would he get back to the time in which he belonged?
The veil was unnerving him now, he cast it an almost fearful look, expecting it to show some sort of sign of malicious intent, but it just hung innocently from its arch, fluttering slightly in a breeze that Sirius couldn’t feel. Was that a sign? He snorted to himself. Flutterby bushes moved their leaves to a breeze that didn’t exist, and they definitely weren’t malicious. But neither did they look as dark and almost sinister...
Sirius shook his head; he was getting carried away with his own delusions. Once, he might have allowed himself to, but this was now. He was a different person now. He moved away from the veil, casting one last suspicious glance at it and began inspecting the place, still on tenterhooks in case Death Eaters should leap out of the walls and resume their fight.
It was definitely the same room; the door was in the same place at the top of the stone steps, and the dais seemed in roughly the same place. There were even signs of the battle. Here and there were scorch marks on the floor, definitely the result of spells hitting them forcefully. He also noticed that in places, there were bits of stone from the floor and walls that were chipped as if spells had ricocheted off them.
He peered closely at these damaged stones, and picked a corner of one such mark. More flakes and small lumps came away easily in his hand. However, the colour contrast was startling. Underneath the bits Sirius had just picked off was a light golden colour, whereas the bits next to it were darker and duller, as if they had already been there some years, and had weathered slightly.
Sirius dropped the pieces of stone in his hand. They hit the floor and the noise they made on impact echoed eerily round the room. Was this some sort of trick? Was there some form of Dark Magic going on here? Sirius took up his battle stance again, casting his eyes about him in suspicion.
‘Maleficus revelio!’ he whispered, sweeping his wand around the room. It was rather unnerving how his voice echoed. It seemed to give more desolation to his situation.
Nothing happened. Sirius didn’t know whether the spell had worked; it was supposed to reveal the presence of Dark Magic, but considering the enemy, he wouldn’t be surprised if there was magic well hidden and concealed. He tried again.
‘Homenum revelio!’
Again, there was nothing. No friends, anyway. And it was unlikely that there would be any enemies either, he couldn’t see the Death Eaters staying merely to trick him, there would be no point. Harry was their main target, and he wasn’t here. He had been pacing the room for a good ten minutes, his guard let down completely as he examined walls and floor, and nobody had attacked him. No, this was no Dark Magic.
But if it wasn’t, then what the hell was happening?
A Stone From the Riverbank by Sapphire at Dawn
Chapter Notes: Thanks again to my beta's, katie616 and harrypotter627.
Chapter Endnotes: Thaks for reading, please review!