I'm hanging on...
Characters: Hermione, Ron Status: compelte
Ron's flat was empty. Of course it was empty - Ron was at practice and Leila was at her nursery school, and Crookshanks was likely curled up asleep in a sunbeam at Grimmauld Place. Hermione scrubbed at her face and read the letter again and again, until it finally made sense.
Sirius believed himself to be the source of the magic drain. And being Sirius, he'd decided to fix it himself, by going back through the Veil.
Hermione's face twisted as she fought off tears. Why hadn't he at least asked for help before he'd gone through? The Squad had resources, connections that the rest of the Wizarding World lacked. With a solid lead like this, surely one of their contacts would know something useful! Sirius had built a good life here, surely it wasn't meant to end -
No. She shook her head, angry at herself for grasping at straws. She'd researched the whole problem of how the living could return when Sirius had first shown up in London, then again in eastern Europe. She knew better.
Suddenly she couldn't stand the silence any longer. She snatched up a box of tissues, wiped her eyes and blew her nose before the sobs could start in earnest, and tossed a handful of powder into the fireplace. Ron's coach wouldn't be happy at the interruption, but she'd make it up to the team somehow.