Hi, I thought I would post the opening chapter of the sequel (Fade) at the end of Beyond obsession, just so people know that a sequel is in existance. This has not been beta read yet, and if anyone would like to volunteer to do so I would very much appriciate it :D.

Hope you like it, if you're feeling generousl enough to leave a review, it would make me happy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing other than the plot line.

A/N: This is the sequel to Beyond Obsession. Hope you like it, please review so I know whether there's interest in a sequal or not...

Fiona x x x


Chapter One: Alcohol.

"Alcohol, the cause and solution to all life's problems" Homer…(J.Simpson )

Alcohol. Bloody stinking alcohol. Sirius thought to himself. That's what had caused the latest kafuffle. He could blame Arthur for letting the boys have some, but that wouldn't be entirely fair, he had hardly protested, in fact, it had been his firewhisky that they were drinking! After the events of the previous evening, Sirius was just glad that people finally seemed to be relaxing. They had been on edge all day, and if firewhisky aided their relaxation, who was he to stand in the way?

He too had been tense all day, as had Hermione. Neither of them were entirely sure how people would react to them as a couple, but both were relieved that their relationship was finally out in the open. This did not mean that they were going to flaunt it. Sirius assumed, correctly, that Ron would have something to say about it if there were any displays of affection between himself and Hermione. Neither of them wanted that.

However, as more alcohol was consumed, such thoughts occupied his mind less. Everyone was relaxed, they had all split off into groups having quiet conversations about nothing in particular. Sirius was sitting with Harry and Ron, they were chatting about quidditch or some other subject that had no chance of holding his attention, not when she was in the room. He found himself thinking for the hundredth time that day what a lucky man he was as he stared at his beautiful fiancée, his Hermione. She really beautiful. She was talking animatedly to Charlie and Remus about elf rights on the other side of the sitting room. Her face was flushed and her gestures were becoming increasingly passionate with every glass of mulled wine he consumed. He stared at her, as she tucked a stray curl of her hair behind her ear, revealing more of that beautiful neck, he had to kiss her. He had to. It took all of his self restraint not to walk over there and…well… He could feel himself starting to blush at the thoughts that were now creeping unbidden into his head. Nobody, nobody could make Sirius Black blush! Must be the alcohol, he told himself. He also blamed the alcohol for making him feel this…mischievous. A sly grin crossed his face, it was at that precise moment that Hermione turned round, she beamed at him.

Having excused herself from her conversation with Charlie and Remus, she made her way across the room to where he was sitting with the boys. There was no chair for her, and none of the men made as if to move to let her take their seat so she plonked herself rather ungracefully onto Sirius' lap. If possible his grin became even wider. He snaked his hand around her waist, letting it rest in her lap, his other arm he wrapped around her stomach using it to pull her closer to him. He grinned at the quizzical look Remus gave him, before moving his right hand, which had been resting in her lap slightly higher. Hermione didn't seem to notice, but several others did. Sirius wasn't sure what had got into him. He wouldn't normally act like this, especially not with her, and especially not in a room full of people.

Molly Weasley was not impressed by his display of…affection, she tutted loudly and huffed "really!".

"Come off it mum" said Charlie laughing "he's just showing off"

"What do you mean?" Remus asked him. Charlie shook his head smiling, and threw a pointed glance at Hermione

"Wouldn't you mate? I mean, can't say she's not attractive and we all know she's intelligent. He's found himself a nice little wife there, I suppose it doesn't hurt that she's nearly twenty years his junior". Remus understood, and had to admit he agreed.

Hermione was oblivious to this conversation, she was too engaged in her own conversation with Harry and Ron about Fred and George's latest inventions. She wasn't paying him much attention at all. She didn't notice as his hand climbed steadily higher and higher stroking her thigh. Sirius was not used to being ignored and he didn't like it. He decided drastic action was needed, he began to kiss her neck. Hermione giggled and squired.

At this, Ron who had been staring at Sirius' hand on Hermione's thigh for the last five minutes becoming increasingly cross, muttered waspishly

"Slag" As soon as the word had escaped his lips, he regretted saying it. Hermione looked as if she had been slapped, all traces of a smile gone from her face. She was on her feet and glaring at him, she made as if to move towards him, but Sirius was faster. He had crossed the few feet to where Ron stood and had drawn his wand before anyone else had realised what Ron had said.

"What did you just call my fiancée?" Sirius growled through gritted teeth. Harry was on his feet too now, stepping between his god father and his best friend.

"Lets just all calm down, I'm sure Ron didn't mean it, right Ron?" Harry said, Ron grunted an apology, before he quickly left the room, looking disgusted with himself.

"Coward" muttered Sirius at Ron's retreating back. Hermione was sitting in stunned silence. She really did feel as if she had been slapped. One of her best friends, the people who were supposed to love her and care for her had just gone out of his way to upset her.

All trace of the jovial and relaxed atmosphere of only moments earlier had now evaporated. Sirius was apoplectic with rage. He thought he deserved much praise for managing to remain sitting there engaging in polite conversation rather than running upstairs and using Ron's head for a toilet brush. He certainly knew which option he found most appealing. He reached for Hermione's hand, but she pretended she had not noticed this gesture, looking around, checking if anyone was watching, judging before she allowed him to enclose her small hand in his own.

After a tense twenty minutes, people started drifting off to bed, saying falsely cheery goodnights to each other.

Sirius felt anger course through his veins as he relived these events lying in bed. He had come to the conclusion that Alcohol was to blame. This did not however stop him from wanting to punch that little shit Ron Weasley. A feeling that had intensified as he had remembered the look on Hermione's face after Ron had called her a slag. How dare anyone upset his Hermione that much!

At that thought, a slight smile crossed his face. His Hermione. His Hermione. He repeated it to himself, his smile intensifying. It amazed him how naturally it seemed to flow, His Hermione. It gave him an even deeper sense of satisfaction to know that he was hers. She wanted him, she had chosen him, she was going to marry him; he was hers. He really didn't deserve to be so lucky, he was actually in love. Proper love, actual real life, above and beyond, all consuming, rollercoaster riding, head in the clouds out of this world LOVE. He had only seen that once before (excepting of course those muggle films Hermione made him watch- he thought she called them rom-coms…what a stupid name he thought to himself…). He had seen this kind of love between Lilly and James. Despite all that had gone on, and despite all that still lay ahead of them, Sirius saw a bright future for him and His Hermione. He had never felt happier.

Ron was mortified. He might well be cross at Hermione, well, at Sirius really, but that was no excuse to try and deliberately hurt either of them. Even if she had hurt him, she had done it completely unknowingly. Ron couldn't blame her for falling in love with Sirius. As he knew only too well, you couldn't control who you fell in love with.

It was Ginny who had patiently pointed this out to him, she had tried in vain not blush and made a point of avoiding eye contact with Harry when she mentioned not being able to control who you fell in love with. Astonishingly, the usually unperceptive Ron noticed this, perhaps because it involved his little sister and his best friend, either way, he made a mental note to ask Harry about it right after he got back from apologising to Hermione.

Ron made his way slowly across the landing to the room Hermione and Ginny shared. He stood outside for a moment listening, he heard muffled sobs punctuated with the occasional angry exclamation along the lines of "who does he think he is!?" and "how dare he!". Hermione was right of course, what on Earth gave him the right to call Hermione a slag? After all she'd been through! Honestly, what kind of a friend was he, that he'd stoop so low to begrudge her even a little happiness?

He knocked purposefully, resolute in his desire to put things right.

"Come in" Hermione shouted, he entered, looked directly at Hermione and said

"I'm so sorry, I'm a complete tit"

"Thank you for apologising Ron, but I am still very angry with you, and I don't want to see you for a while" replied Hermione with all the warmth of a teaspoon, the harshness of her response took him back. He had never seen Hermione act so coldly before.

"Oh…ok" he stammered before backing out quickly.

"Leave the door, I'm going to go and see Sirius" Said Hermione with all the dignity she could muster. Glaring at him defiantly, daring her to challenge him. It was surprising just how scary a 16 year old in a my little pony nighty with mascara all over her face could look.

Hermione headed first to the basement kitchen, finding it empty she tried the drawing room next, then the room on the second floor he occasionally used as a study but he was nowhere to be found. Finally, deciding he must have gone to bed, she tiptoed her way up to the third floor where he slept, quickly crossed the landing and knocked tentatively on his door. It was ridiculous! She was his fiancée for Merlin's sake! She was allowed to go in and say good night to her future husband, but she still couldn't shake a slightly nervous sensation that was bubbling away in the pit of her stomach…

He answered the door pulling on a t-shirt. He had obviously been in bed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you…" She muttered. A look of panic crossed his face as he took in her dishevelled appearance.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" He asked urgently, and although his voice was groggy, it was easy to detect the ill-disguised anxiety within it. Hermione, noticing this, giggled. At once the panic left his face, to be replaced with an expression of mingled mischief and curiosity, as he allowed his eyes to linger a little too long on just quite how short her nighty was…

"Nothing, nothing's wrong. I just fancied a chat with my future husband is all" she grinned. He stepped back, motioning for her to come in. They sat down on the bed…his bed.

"You ok love, really ok I mean?" He asked,

"Yeah, just took me back a little before, caught me off guard a bit…but you know" she smiled as he leaned in and kissed her forehead tenderly.

"You know" he began devilishly, "coming to my room, late at night…scantily clad" he ran a hand up her exposed thigh, "People will talk" he grinned.

"Let them" she replied before leaning in and kissing him passionately. Neither of the broke the kiss as he gently pressed on her shoulders, laying her down, him at her side. He then moved his mouth, first across her cheek, then to her ear, he lingered as his mouth made its way slowly down her neck until it found her collar bone… Suddenly Hermione's mind woke up, this was all getting a bit heavy. This was a bad idea, she was tipsy, he was drunk and unless she was very much mistaken he was now rather horny…

It wouldn't be fair to stop it all now. Like he had said, she'd been the one to go up there in her short nighty, it was her fault for getting herself into this situation. She could be so silly sometimes! She should just tell him to stop, she knew he would in a heartbeat, no question of that, it was just, well, she'd feel bad for leading him on. Tempting him, getting him all excited. Just as these thoughts were whirring round Hermione's head, it happened.

He shifted on the bed, positioning himself on top of her. His weight bearing down on her, his hair on her face, the smell of sweat and alcohol filling her nostrils… At that moment it was no longer Sirius on top of her but McNair. She was no longer at the head quarter's of the order of the phoenix, in the bed of her future husband, but on the hard floor of that cell…with them.

She kicked, she pushed, it was all she could do not to wake up the whole house. Sirius jumped up in shock. Hermione looked at him apologetically before leaning over the side of the bed and being violently sick.

'It's Sirius, it's not them, it's Sirius, he loves me, he'd never hurt me. It's Sirius, not them' she repeated in her head until she had gained enough composure to turn around and face him.

He looked confused, hurt even,

"What's wrong?" Did I…?" he trailed off, he had wanted to ask if he had done something wrong but he couldn't find the words. Hermione was looking at him with such heart wrenching mixture of sadness and trust that it rendered him speechless.

"I'm so sorry!" she said, there was a forced brightness to her voice that she felt sure he would notice. "I've eaten far too much today, you were pressing on my stomach and I guess, well…" She gestured to the mess, which Sirius hastily vanished. "I think I should probably go to bed now, after all, we don't want people talking no do we" she grinned.

"Ok, good night love, sweet dreams" As he went to hug her, he felt the smallest, almost imperceptible of movements from Hermione, as if she'd only just managed to stop herself from flinching, like she used to. This worried him, the fact that she refused to give him a good night kiss did nothing to assuage these worries, she claimed it was because she had just thrown up, which he supposed was a reasonable argument... He closed the door quietly behind her, and waited, listening to her fading footsteps and then the gentle click of her bedroom door.

What had just gone on? He wondered as he crossed the room and climbed back into his bed. He would sort it out tomorrow, he hoped he hadn't done anything wrong, if he had, it would be down to alcohol, bloody alcohol. It was that self same poison that now carried him off to sleep, allowing him not to dwell too long on the evenings events. Perhaps if he had stayed awake a little longer he would have pondered and seen what was going on, or at least had full recollection of it the next morning. Instead, he fell into a drunken slumber.

Alcohol, it all came down to bloody alcohol.