On Edge
Disclaimer: Any and all recognizable characters, locations, spells, etc belong to their respective owners, publishers, producers, etc. Scenario belongs to me, but otherwise I claim no ownership
Additional disclaimer: I am publishing this Thing that I've been writing for the while under the influence of alcohol, so I have no idea if it is fit to see the light of day, or just a bit of self-indulgent fluff. Either way, I hope you have fun reading it.
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The Bright Side of Death
The all-encompassing green rippled, like a ribbon of smoke in the breeze, like a snake shedding skin, as it punctured skin, ripped through muscle and shattered bone. Swirling, writhing, pulsing, the green invaded his senses, drowning out his desperate cries of "Sirius" and "save me" as he was torn to pieces and remade, over and over, by It—whatever It was—glittering like thousands of dancing fireflies, and arctic rapids, and the hazy mist of spell-fire. Eyes, bright as emeralds, watched from a body that both Was and Was Not as he whirled through a vortex of glorious, tumultuous green.
Eyes that Were and Weren't blinked against the hot sting of the sentient light, pulsing and thick, as it slid across his skin, up his neck and across his face, sinking into flesh, slithering in his ears and eyes, rushing down his spasming throat. He struggled, his heart pounding, as he fought against the smothering, drowning green. He tried to cry out, his tongue heavy and wet with the thick, burning light-that-wasn't-light.
Tears like acid burned toxic green streaks down his face. His chest heaved, struggling against sobs as he struggled for air.
"...arry?"
He blinked, blind to anything but brilliant green, his body straining weakly to follow that familiar voice.
"Ha...y?"
He knew that name, and he knew that voice, but his mind struggled to think of anything but the pulse of his blood boiling his veins.
"Har..y." Lips brushed his forehead, soft, like the caress of butterfly wings...so very fragile, no more than the tickle of a light breeze. Slowly, soothing cold spread down his face and neck, trailing down limp limbs and lazy digits, sinking into his skin. A gasp wrenched past his clogged throat, and eyes opened for the first time in days, weeks, eons.
He blinked, squinting as his vision swam, slowly dancing and swirling together to form the familiar face looming above him, staring down at him with green eyes shot through with electric blue, and poisonous yellow. "Remus..."
The man smiled, his strange eyes glowing in his pale, haggard face, tawny hair hanging in a wet mess down sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw. He seemed to wilt under Harry's stare. He started, staring as Remus' head fell forward to rest against his. "Oh, thank God, kiddo."
"Moony, what..?"
"You wouldn't wake...I couldn't wake you. I thought..." Harry hugged Remus to him, arms trembling in fatigue, his hand idly patting a trembling back.
"I'm alright...sore as fuck, but alright."
Harry blinked lazily, blearily taking in the crumbling edifice of a once-magnificent church. Only three of the beautifully carved stone walls remained, as well as a small portion of the peaked roof. Rubble littered the dusty wooden panels of the floor, falling just short of the vibrant patch of grass growing through the cracked slats. He shifted his aching back, lazily tangling his fingers into the fresh, young grass, so soothing against his sensitive skin. Harry groaned as he slowly turned his neck to take in the stretch of grass around him. Vibrant daylilies littered the unruly thatch of green, their petals unfurled delicately towards the golden sunlight streaming in through the collapsed roof and ruined wall.
"Where..?"
A sigh. Harry turned to look at Remus' lost expression, feeling a real pang of grief and panic at his wan, destroyed visage. "I...don't know. Nothing looks familiar.""Nothing?"
Remus shrugged. "I took a look around when I first got here...we're not in London, that I can tell, but...I couldn't tell you where we are, either. Not a damn person in sight, and my wand isn't working, so I couldn't even cast a location charm if I wanted to."
Hopelessness settled heavily in Harry's stomach, and he swallowed against a rush of panicked tears. Not in London, but then...where..?
Realization was like a slap in the face, nearly painful in its abruptness. The Veil.
"Sirius, NO!" Harry watched, his heart stuttering in his chest, as Sirius fell through the fluttering gray curtain of the stone archway. The curtain seemed to ripple in a phantom wind, tendrils of dazzling green snaking from behind the curtain before vanishing like smoke.
His knees collapsed beneath him, and he was only vaguely aware of Remus crying out in shock as he scooted across the floor and up the dais, reaching for the curtain. An aged hand fisting in his torn sweatshirt just as trembling fingers brushed the cool, ephemeral gray curtain.
In a blaze of fire, he was swept into the Green, Remus dragged along behind him...and then came the pain...
Wherever they were, it was likely someplace that existed beyond the Veil. Harry doubted whether it was Heaven or Hell, as his aching back sure as shite told him he wasn't dead. But, still...if he and Remus were beyond the Veil, and alive, then that meant...Sirius.
Somewhere, wherever the hell they were, Sirius was alive, and just as lost as they were. Aching body aside, he'd be damned if he left his godfather to fend for himself. Harry groaned, batting away Remus' fluttering hands as he rolled slowly onto his side. His lungs squeezed, feeling like they were going to collapse. He tried not to panic, but felt very real fear at the thought that he might be too hurt to stand.
Everything will be...alright.
A hand, small and soft, brushed his sweat matted hair away from his face, and Harry blinked, startled. Green eyes smiled down at him from a kind face, dark curls pulled back in a bow of brilliant pink. Harry stared, confused, as the girl beamed at him, patting his head kindly before sitting back on her heels. Before he could open his mouth to speak, she was gone.
Harry sighed. Oh, Christ. The last thing he needed was a sudden onset of insanity. Remus looked a second away from nervous collapse, as it was. He'd probably lose it if Harry, well, lost it. Still, whether he was loony or not, Harry was not going to lie here while Sirius was out there, possibly hurt, with no way of knowing he wasn't completely, utterly alone, without a friend or access to magic.
Slowly, Harry rolled to his stomach, pushing with wobbling arms til he slumped back on his heels. There was a generous patch of crushed grass and crumpled flowers where he had been laying. He frowned. Something about the sight of those crimped stems was disturbing, and he brushed his fingers across them in apology. He watched, startled, as the flowers seemed to lean into his touch, stems straightening and petals opening wider as his fingers brushed across leaf and bud.
Huh. That was...bizarre. Well, more bizarre than usual, for him.
Harry turned to Remus, studying his pale face as he stared blankly into the distance. Even his unusually glowing eyes seemed glassy with fatigue. Christ. Neither of them were in the right shape for what he had in mind, but it was something that needed to be done. "Remus..."
Glowing eyes blinked, locking on his face. Harry stuttered, caught off guard, again. Merlin, but he was not used to that, yet. He wasn't sure there was any getting used to seeing his professor with eyes that glowed like lanterns. Harry wondered if that Green...whatever had done that to him, and considered finding a shiny surface to check his own eyes the next chance he got.
"Uh...the-the Veil. I was thinking...Sirius. Do you think he could be out there, somewhere? I mean, he wasn't dead when he fell through, right?"
Remus blinked, looking unusually blank, before a wide, hopeful grin split his face. Honestly, Harry had heard the cliché about a smile making someone look ten, fifteen, twenty years younger, but he had always thought it was a crock of shite. His eyes slid over Remus' face, taking in the happy glow, the rosy cheeks, the sparkling eyes. Looks like he'd been wrong in this case, because the years seemed to fall away with that hopeful smile. Harry forced a smile of his own, refusing to kill Remus' joy with his worries over the state they'd find Sirius in, if they found him at all.
Harry tried not to glower as Remus sprung to his feet easily. He sat back on his heels, feeling like an achy old man, trying to get his limbs to move. If he was surprised when strong hands pulled him to his feet, he wouldn't say...and he most certainly did not squeal like a startled little girl as he went flying up, bumping into a solid chest. Harry sniffed, ignoring Remus' happy chortle, and brushed off his clothes before heading toward the ruined wall on unsteady feet. Really, the nerve of some people. It wasn't THAT funny.
…
If Harry didn't know any better, and he honestly didn't, he'd assume a bomb had been dropped over the church. Broken scaffolding, rust clinging to the rungs like ivy, towered like skyscrapers. Chunks of metal, and wiring, and stone littered the ground all around the ruined church. Crushed trucks gathered dust, and the only sound from the abandoned wasteland was the occasional sound of rock and plaster from the crumbling city, clattering to the ground.
"Remus, what?" Harry was speechless. He'd seen pictures of the London Blitz in primary, but seeing a small, faded photo of the ruined metropolis, and walking amongst the rubble of a destroyed city were two very different experiences. With a photo, all you had was a shiny, laminate moment in time. A photo could not choke you with the smell of rust, and broken sewage pipes, and burned wire, and rock dust. It could not impress upon you the unnerving silence and stillness of a city in ruin. It could not suffocate you with the feeling of terrible, terrible loneliness.
Remus' voice trembled, and Harry clutched his arm in sympathy. "As far as I can tell, this part of the city is pretty much gone. I didn't want to leave you too long, so I didn't really explore too much."
Harry stared around him, squinting through the stinking fog and dust, looking for something...anything...that'd tell him where they were. Fallen street signs were a mass of dust and strange symbols that meant absolutely nothing to him. Honestly, he hadn't expected to be able to magically speak whatever language they spoke here, but he had hoped.
His stomach flipped with nerves and it took every bit of stubborn pride he had left not to just drop to the ground. Remus held him steady, thankfully too busy getting his bearings to pay Harry's momentary fit of hopelessness any mind. He sighed, turning in a slow circle as he tagged along after Remus, searching for any sign of life amongst the ruin...he'd prefer Sirius, but even a stranger would be welcome, at this point.
"Look, we can't just stay here...we'll need food and water soon."
Harry glanced at Remus out of the corner of his eye, his gaze jerking away in surprise when he nearly broke his ankle tripping over a tangle of scaffolding blocking the road. "So, what do we do? Look for Sirius, or try to find our way out of here, and come back later?"
"I'm tempted to just stay and have a look for Sirius, but...damn it, Harry, I'm old. I need a better bed than a patch of grass."
He snorted. "I'd forgotten how feeble you old folk are. Do you need me to find you a cane?"
"Nobody likes a smart-arse, Harry."
Slowly, they made their way toward the skeleton of a massive wall in the distance. Both had agreed that the tower in the center of the wreckage looked too unstable and too abandoned to be worth searching. Harry huffed, almost embarrassed how tired he still was, his head bobbing in exhaustion as he stumbled through the wrecked streets, blinking against the growing dark. Just...a little bit further. Twenty minutes...an hour...more, and he could sit down, close his eyes, rest.
Harry was dead on his feet, his eyes fluttering as he lost the battle against sleep. His head bobbed forward, resting against Remus' sturdy shoulder. He gripped the man's arm tighter, tensing his muscles to keep his legs from giving out for real, this time.
Then, the first twinkle of street lights, followed by the growing rumble of cars, and the familiar stench of car exhaust. He blinked, taking in the buildings and office blocks, and streetlights, and paved roads. This city, built on the skeleton of the old, was like the grass in that church...pushing through the cracks, reaching towards light, towards life.
God, but that was a load of sentimental tripe. Harry was glad he was too tired to talk, or he was certain he would have wanted to bury his head in the ground. He'd put it down to immense relief, and hope his unexpected turn towards romanticism wasn't permanent. He didn't think he could face himself if he turned into one of those Maudlin Poet types that Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were always swooning and cooing over.
Harry was grateful for the break as Remus lead him to a wobbly bench, and they sat. His muscles burned, spasming from exhaustion and whatever the hell his time in the Green Gunk had done to him. He blinked, hard, forcing back the massive yawn building in his chest.
"So. Uh...what now?" Remus blinked, looking just as dazed as he did, his glowing eyes bleary as he looked around. Huh. Well, that wasn't too reassuring, but Harry couldn't blame Remus for just wanting to get out of the ruined city and to civilization. It wasn't as if he had thought about what they'd do once they got here, either.
"Find someplace to eat, I guess."
"...so, you have money on you, then?"
Remus patted at his pockets, frowning as his stomach took that as its cue to voice its discontent. Harry's stomach joined in the chorus. "No. You?"
Harry didn't bother checking. He hadn't bothered to take money with him on his failed rescue mission to the Ministry of Magic. He shook his head.
Remus sighed, scrubbing his face, and Harry nearly felt guilty for bringing it up. He would have felt like a berk for dining and dashing, but would have done it, had he had the energy. Now, he wasn't too sure he could stay awake through the dining part, let alone be up for any dashing.
"I suppose we could find someplace to sleep for tonight, and worry about it tomorrow..." Harry nodded, his stomach churning in guilt at the disappointed look on Remus' face. Honestly, he didn't want Remus to starve on his account, but he didn't think he'd be able to make a get away had they been forced to steal food.
Slowly, he forced himself to his feet, gripping the back of the bench as his knees trembled. Remus tugged him close, winding a sturdy arm around his back to brace them as they stumbled down the street, their tired eyes trying to make any sort of sense of the alien writing on the street signs. Harry winced, his stumble becoming a limp the further they walked. His knuckles bulged, his hands grasping tightly onto Remus' tattered pull-over, but it wasn't enough. Harry felt his knees go, and knew he wouldn't be able to take another step.
The alley was claustrophobic, lined by iron stairwells, leading up to barred apartment windows, on either side. The smell of trash hung in the air, oozing from the overflowing dumpsters, grotty with grease, and human waste, and any number of foul smelling crap. Harry gagged, turning his head away from the smell. He watched Remus take stock of their surroundings with a grimace before plopping down on the greasy pavement to join him, pulling him tight to his side to keep them both warm.
"'M sorry, Remus."
"It's fine, kiddo. My back can handle the ground for another night." His laugh was weak, and Harry swallowed against the writhing ball of guilt that settled in his stomach. He bit his lip and cuddled closer, doing his best to make sure the man didn't freeze on his account.
The wall was sticky, and Harry cringed as he imagined the gloppy, sticky mess he must be, after everything. He would do almost anything for warm water, and lots and lots of soap, but knew enough to know it wasn't going to happen tonight. His shoulders twitched against unforgiving stone, and he slouched down further, his face tucking into Remus' neck. Slowly, his breathing fell into sync with the older man's, and he drifted off, soothed by the familiar scent of his former professor.
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Aaaand, that's it for chapter one. Intrigued? Confused? Both? Stay tuned!
