I haven't felt like this in years. I feel so alive. I can feel each beat of my heart as it forces blood through my veins. I can feel my muscles contracting and sliding over bone, each movement feels more fluid than the one before, and I'm almost dancing. Every lungful of the cool dank air is magnificent. Every crash and sound make my blood run a little hotter, and the chill on my skin fades to oblivion. It's been so long since I've felt this gloriously alive. Even the pure hatred twisting knots in my stomach can't overshadow the joy of feeling alive. The excitement of moving, and doing something. Being outside of the joyless walls of Grimmauld Place, my own personal corner of hell, feels like everything.
This is the last place I'd expect to be so happy, but for the love of life I am. I'm who knows how far under the ground dueling Bellatrix, probably to the death, and I'm happy. I could die right now, she could kill me and I would be happy to die because I've been alive. I am alive. I feel alive for quite possibly one last time, I've known joy and happiness and even pain, so much pain. But I've also felt love and great friendship. I love life; I want to live, for Harry, but I could die here and now and think nothing of it. Curses are flying past me. I've fired so many more than I can count. I can see her face twisted with rage and hatred. She can't appreciate the blood flowing through her veins. She could die and not know the difference. She would still be hateful too consumed to notice the difference. But me, I'm free. After years of hell and rage, months of nothing with only brief flickers of hope, and feeling nothing but longing and restlessness; I'm free.
I call a few jeers out to cousin Bellatrix as her spells whiz past me. For a moment her face, contorted with misdirected rage, seems childlike. She was always so angry as a child. The gaunt shadow of prison lifts from her like a shade. "Come on! You can do better than that,"* I yell to her, and let out a laugh. But to be honest I know that she could. She is a great dueler, a true soldier. She could kill me, but I can only laugh. The sound of blood coursing through my veins echoes in my ears along with my own laughter. I take a moment to enjoy the feeling of laughter, and the feeling of air rushing from my lungs. I feel weightless. Then it hits me. I look down in time to see a jet of green light and I can feel my chest constrict then nothing.
The still warm body that was once Sirius Black falls backwards in a delicate arch. The veil billows around him as he crashes through. His hair flies up around his lifeless face on which there was still a hint of laughter.
End Note: Oneshot maybe two to round out heaven and all. But I still get upset when Sirius dies, and I feel like this is just me getting over it for myself. I'm still suprised that I was able to write it dry eyed. Hope you liked it.
*direct quote from book 5
