DISCLAIMER: These characters belong to JKR, I just borrowed the puppet strings for a bit. *sullenly hands them back* Sirius likes bananas!
Buried deep within the Department of Mysteries was a hidden amphitheatre. In the center of that was the most coveted secret of the British Ministry of Magic: a veiled arch. The arch was nothing spectacular to look at, appearing as an ancient gray stone held up by its keystone and gravity. Human curiosity was drawn instead to the veil of the arch, a translucent piece of velvet that was flickering and snapping from a blustery wind that did not exist. It was a harsh contrast to the anguished stillness that had fallen over the supporters of Light. The Aurors and loyal supporters of Dumbledore and his child savior were scattered like seeds around the sunken ring of steps.
A minute ago Sirius Black had jumped in to defend a fallen ally against the Death Eater Bellatrix Lestrange. Their fight did not re-establish old hatreds, as they had never faded, but was a resurgence of the freedom they had known; the freedom to fight as hard and mercilessly as they cared. It was abruptly ended when Lestrange's curse slipped past any Sirius might have raised and hit him squarely in the chest. There was enough force and power to throw him off the ledge and through the mysterious veil.
Bellatrix Lestrange shrieked in triumph. She had well and truly won against the family traitor.
The scream crackled over the Order members who were all too aware of had just transpired. They saw the images clearly, slowing until they stopped and showed the moment. That split second an Auror knew was the last chance to help a person. But it was already over. Sirius Black was as good as dead. Even as the emotions of the grieving fell over them like a heavy blanket another mask descended. It was the blank, professional face every criminal was against whenever he chose to fight an Auror. They used their pain and pity as a catalyst, giving them the strength of will to avenge their fallen ally and subdue the remaining Death Eaters.
Further up in the stands, and relatively safe from the fighting, Harry Potter broke out of his shocked stupor and stumbled into horror. His body was still frozen, his eyes unable to look away from the spot where Sirius disappeared. His chest ached as a multitude of emotion rose and boiled over. "SIRIUS!" His desperate scream echoed up and down the amphitheatre. Its hoarse anguish had no effect on the fighters about to renew the battle.
This was the time for Sirius to push aside the veil and prove himself to be the master of the Dark Witch's curse. He had been struck down, but he was stronger than that, and would stand again to defend the Light.
Harry stared at the arch, willing Sirius to step through and rejoin the mêlée. Yet Sirius did not return. "SIRIUS!" Harry screamed again and it had as little effect as before.
It occurred to him then that, maybe, Sirius couldn't just reappear for them. He could be unconscious and just beyond their aid. Someone had to go to Sirius and bring him back. Harry looked wildly around the amphitheatre. No one was trying... they were too involved with the Death Eaters.
Hermione's jib about his 'saving people thing' bubbled up from his memories. She had doubted his reasoning and his methods... but she had the faith to come with him as he charged blindly into this battle. He had come this far with their help and devotion. Now he must stand alone and be the hero Hermione had thought of him in the forest. If no one was going to help Sirius he would!
"There's nothing you can do!" Remus yelled. The werewolf had been nearby guarding Neville and yelling at Harry to get down. This announcement, this command, belatedly broke through Harry's frenzied thoughts. He had already begun jumping down the broad steps to the arch on the platform and had no intentions of stopping. Remus followed nimbly, hopping down the ledges with the grace of the wolf that cursed him. He grabbed fruitlessly at the back of Harry's jumper, even his curse given enhancements could not catch Harry. Remus pushed himself to the limit, knowing he had to restrain the boy until his grief abated enough to think rationally again.
Harry leapt down the remaining stairs and ran to the platform, knowing by the loping click on the flagstones that Remus was very close now. "I can still get to him!" Harry yelled as the reaching hands brushed his arm.
"No!" Remus cried despairingly as Harry plunged through the veil. It swayed as if it were only a light summer breeze. Not a histrionic youth and certainly not the Savior of the Wizarding World. Somehow the lack of dramatic flaring and snapping of the portal was insulting to the terrible loss.
Dumbledore stood rigidly nearby, his eyes blazing with acute sorrow. Both Sirius and Harry were lost to the veil now. The guilt he had been brushing away for years suddenly became a heavier burden than he could bear. His shoulders slumped over as they should have long ago and eyes did not sparkle with the previous façade of omnipotence.
Beyond the veil existed only a strange milky whiteness that held a cold more severe than any Dementor Harry had ever encountered. It crept along his skin with every movement and bit into his lungs with every drawn breath. He slowed to a stop, worried that something might trip him up if he continued to rush blindly forward. There was nothing here; no visual cues as to the size or depth of this place he'd been taken to. The fluttering veil in his peripheral vision was the only thing grounding him to reality.
Harry stared at what he thought was the floor for a moment. He had expected his godfather to be lying stunned in front of him, or sitting up to catch his breath. "Sirius!" he screamed the name into the implacable blankness engulfing him. "Sirius! Where are you?"
The voices that he had heard whispering outside of the veil were louder now, but still jumbled. They warbled and hummed, the words indistinct and lost among the other voices.
Harry began walking, but it seemed he might as well as stood in place. The movement gained him nothing but pockets and rolls in his clothes for the bitter cold to sneak into. The veil stayed where it was and didn't fade away as he had thought it would. Yet with each step the murmurs became more agitated, more distinct. Harry could nearly make them out now.
"Sirius! Sirius! Please, come back!" He cried out again. He noticed his voice didn't reverberate or carry like it had outside the veil. It was just... absorbed.
His chest rattled as he breathed the frigid air. It was so cold Harry expected to see a little puff rise in front of his face when he exhaled, but wasn't very surprised when there was none. He was the only thing in this solid white expanse of Nothing and it would not let him leave any evidence of his passing. For one delirious moment Harry thought he was made blind. However, from years of using an invisibility cloak, he was acutely aware of how visible his body was.
"Go back!" someone moaned in a rasping voice. It was not Sirius. He did not know this speaker. The others were still too soft, droning on in the background. The hum was not entirely unpleasant but it was disturbing to realize his only companions in the alien environment were the mutterings of strange people he could not see. "Go back!" it rasped for a second time.
"No!" he answered desperately. He had not yet found who he came for. Harry called out to his godfather again as he tried to push himself in deeper, wherever he was. Sirius couldn't be far. He could have slid ... bounced...
"Go back!" some voices murmured again. "You cannot be here!" They had taken on a feminine pitch that reminded him of his mother as she pleaded with Voldemort. That pained and frantic tone sliced into Harry's heart more fiercely than the cold that overwhelmed him.
He would not admit his fear. He would to finish what he started. He had to get to Sirius.
Harry raised his frozen hands to cup around his mouth, "Sirius!" Even his own breath, coming from the core of his body, could not warm the air that feathered his tingling hands. It felt like there were thousands of needles dancing under his skin. Nothing existed outside of himself, he realized. If he fell here, if the cold finally took at the strength he had, would there be anything left of him in this never-ending emptiness?
He would not find out because he would not stop. He was going to find Sirius.
"Dare to enter, boy," the voices snarled now in a deeper, rumbling tone like Quirrel's just before he died. "It will be your last."
"Sirius! Come back!" Harry swung his head back and forth for any sign, anything that could lead to his godfather. His face stung from whatever cold air he had stirred up. The veil was still in the same spot behind him, the only other thing he could see.
"I'm here Harry," said a familiar voice near Harry's ear. "I'm here."
"Sirius!" Harry cried in relief and tried to turn to where he thought the voice was coming from, but there was nothing but gray wetness. The sudden movement allowed the cold to get a better hold and it clawed at him, crawling deeper inside himself. He could feel it in his heart, stirring around with the pleas of his mother. "We have to get out of here!"
The soprano voices chanted like a dying echo, "Get out!"
"Harry," this new voice repeated cheerfully. Harry felt something misty settle on his shoulders, tickling his ears and making him much colder than he would have thought possible. His shoulder might as well have turned to stone at that moment.
"Sirius?" Harry asked in a small, confused voice. There was still nothing to see. He might as well close his eyes and embrace whatever apparition appeared before him. A warm bubble of anger rose within him that he could not explain yet seemed so natural after everything that happened. He had a right to be angry -- he did because Sirius was daring to play with him while he was so upset. Harry quelled his feelings as best he could but his voice was still held the fury he could not suppress, "What are you doing? We need to get back outside. The others are waiting for us."
"I'm staying with you, Harry," Sirius replied blithely, as if everything had already been explained many times before. The world rippled and vibrated with the sound of Sirius' voice, "You're staying with me."
"Take it further..." the voices urged gruffly. The other words were lost, beyond Harry's ability to hear, as if the speakers had been pushed away. Other voices faded in and out like a warped record. Some begged for him to turn away while more urged him to continue.
"We're leaving," Harry said and touched his shoulder, expecting to grasp some tangible part of his godfather. Instead, he felt his hand pass through less than Nothing, reminding him of the time he stuck his hand near Aunt Petunia's vacuum, only a great deal stronger. Harry jerked his hand away and was startled by the pristine, abet pale, skin. Even though there were no outward signs, he believed that the greedy sucking had taken away something. Something incredibly personal and intimate he could never get back. Like a Dementor's Kiss.
Then there was a ripple, a wave, just ahead of him in the gray haze. Harry's eyes darted around to follow a bit of light that wavered near where the floor should have been. Then the misty weight settled heavily on both of his shoulders, bringing his attention back to the spectre of Sirius. It didn't take anything from him this time, but Harry was so cold and his senses so deadened he thought his knees might buckle. Ahead of him now, the veil wavered, the arch having disappeared into the gray murk. Somehow, he'd managed to get himself turned around and not leave the veil behind in the unfathomable gloom. Bemused, Harry found himself watching some small, bright spots flickered along the edge of the veil.
Slowly, Harry looked side to side and up and down trying to see the veil better; to see something more than fluctuating grays and shafts of the reality beyond. He focused on one of the brighter spots but it rippled once more like a gust of wind disturbing still waters. A haze seemed to drop down in front of him. Harry could not feel his own hands on his face as he scrubbed at his eyes. Blinking and rubbing, he opened them in time to see Sirius' blurry silver face streaked away.
Harry grabbed for the image and missed. "It's just there Sirius. We can get out! - " he tried to explain.
"Come with me," the invisible people sang out from the encroaching silence.
"This way," Harry insisted.
"This is the way," Sirius said calmly.
Harry did manage to turn this time ... or did Sirius slide into his line of vision? Harry watched with raw happiness as Sirius' image began to gain color and substance. It was like watching the memory of Tom Riddle in reverse. His arm came into being as his torso outlined itself against the dark. Eventually Sirius was entirely there and Harry could do nothing more than stare. This was no ghost or memory of an Azkaban escapee. This was the man he had met last summer, hale and happy after more than a decade of misery for them both. Feeling so completely numb didn't matter anymore because Sirius was here now. With him in the emptiness that Harry feared he would never escape, inside the veil or out.
Sirius, whom he loved.
Sirius, his second chance at a real family.
In the gloaming Harry saw only Sirius' outstretched hand and the rippling behind him. Nevertheless, it was enough to drive away the feeling of anything other than bliss; to touch his heart and numb any pain that still resided there.
Sirius opened his arms and Harry threw himself at his solidified godfather who caught him up in a hug. "We're leaving. Together," Sirius said firmly, gave Harry another squeeze and let him stand again. Harry barely rocked back onto his heals when Sirius captured his hand and led him into the emptiness where the ripples were spreading as if the curtain had tattered holes.
The flickering light that Harry thought was from the room beyond the veil glittered in the encroaching darkness, which had driven away the murky light Harry had entered with. He felt that if he could light his wand he would be able to see into eternity. Before was Nothing, but this was Emptiness that would continue infinitely. However, it was impossible to reach his wand because he was entirely numb now to everything except Sirius' hand. Even then, it was his arm that felt the tender-but-firm tugs from his godfather and not his cramped fingers.
They walked on at a brisk pace. Harry could hear familiar sounds floating on the air that only existed on the other side of the veil. If they could just get back out there… he could stay with Sirius… everyone was waiting for them.
Sirius's griped suddenly became vice-like. He pulled Harry along so quickly Harry feared stumbling in the now pliable ground, all too aware of its tendency to sink and slide beneath his feet like loose soil.
"Shh... come on Harry," Sirius urged before Harry could protest the harsh treatment.
"Go on... it's too late... you'll make it..." the voices whispered. They sounded farther away than ever before.
Harry saw it then: a light in the inky blackness and cold. For a moment Harry thought they were going to avoid it, but Sirius pulled him nearer with every step. The ground hardened, accepting more of his weight as he trotted behind his godfather. Then the voices died completely leaving only the sounds of their footsteps and the burble of flowing water. The light swayed above what Harry realized was a river. He watched Sirius' expression flicker between elation and something else... something more sinister and less sedate.
Then there was triumph in his eyes and Sirius' head snapped to something in the dark. Around the bobbing lantern Harry could make out a boat and pilot approaching them. The light reflected off the water and danced on the pilings that extended out from the shore. Harry knew now they were on a dock. They had come so far. Perhaps that man would take them back.
The pilot, with his skeletal hands, slowly raised and dipped his paddle while the lantern swayed at the bow. Harry couldn't see the face beneath the hooded robe. Even as he stared at the mysterious boatswain time seemed stretch. The oar was raised and lowered so slowly there was barely any backsplash from the displaced water. After forever, it finally bumped against the dock. Sirius wasted no time getting Harry aboard, lifting him into the boat like a toddler.
Time snapped back to its normal pace. The boat glided away from the dock, leaving a large wake in the smooth water.
They stood side-by-side, gazing out into the inky dark. "Is this the way out?" Harry asked, clutching Sirius' hand with both of his own in a mockery of child-like trust. "Where are we going Sirius?"
"Where we can be together," Sirius smiled, "forever."
The boat floated silently down the murky river into the eternal darkness. A giddy sort of nausea rose from the pit of Harry's stomach. He could be with Sirius now.
---
Author's Notes - I wrote a happy/sappy version of this where Sirius sent Harry back, but decided it was out-of-character. As this is one of my few forays into drama, any and all feedback/criticism (contructive or otherwise) would be greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading! ^__^
Buried deep within the Department of Mysteries was a hidden amphitheatre. In the center of that was the most coveted secret of the British Ministry of Magic: a veiled arch. The arch was nothing spectacular to look at, appearing as an ancient gray stone held up by its keystone and gravity. Human curiosity was drawn instead to the veil of the arch, a translucent piece of velvet that was flickering and snapping from a blustery wind that did not exist. It was a harsh contrast to the anguished stillness that had fallen over the supporters of Light. The Aurors and loyal supporters of Dumbledore and his child savior were scattered like seeds around the sunken ring of steps.
A minute ago Sirius Black had jumped in to defend a fallen ally against the Death Eater Bellatrix Lestrange. Their fight did not re-establish old hatreds, as they had never faded, but was a resurgence of the freedom they had known; the freedom to fight as hard and mercilessly as they cared. It was abruptly ended when Lestrange's curse slipped past any Sirius might have raised and hit him squarely in the chest. There was enough force and power to throw him off the ledge and through the mysterious veil.
Bellatrix Lestrange shrieked in triumph. She had well and truly won against the family traitor.
The scream crackled over the Order members who were all too aware of had just transpired. They saw the images clearly, slowing until they stopped and showed the moment. That split second an Auror knew was the last chance to help a person. But it was already over. Sirius Black was as good as dead. Even as the emotions of the grieving fell over them like a heavy blanket another mask descended. It was the blank, professional face every criminal was against whenever he chose to fight an Auror. They used their pain and pity as a catalyst, giving them the strength of will to avenge their fallen ally and subdue the remaining Death Eaters.
Further up in the stands, and relatively safe from the fighting, Harry Potter broke out of his shocked stupor and stumbled into horror. His body was still frozen, his eyes unable to look away from the spot where Sirius disappeared. His chest ached as a multitude of emotion rose and boiled over. "SIRIUS!" His desperate scream echoed up and down the amphitheatre. Its hoarse anguish had no effect on the fighters about to renew the battle.
This was the time for Sirius to push aside the veil and prove himself to be the master of the Dark Witch's curse. He had been struck down, but he was stronger than that, and would stand again to defend the Light.
Harry stared at the arch, willing Sirius to step through and rejoin the mêlée. Yet Sirius did not return. "SIRIUS!" Harry screamed again and it had as little effect as before.
It occurred to him then that, maybe, Sirius couldn't just reappear for them. He could be unconscious and just beyond their aid. Someone had to go to Sirius and bring him back. Harry looked wildly around the amphitheatre. No one was trying... they were too involved with the Death Eaters.
Hermione's jib about his 'saving people thing' bubbled up from his memories. She had doubted his reasoning and his methods... but she had the faith to come with him as he charged blindly into this battle. He had come this far with their help and devotion. Now he must stand alone and be the hero Hermione had thought of him in the forest. If no one was going to help Sirius he would!
"There's nothing you can do!" Remus yelled. The werewolf had been nearby guarding Neville and yelling at Harry to get down. This announcement, this command, belatedly broke through Harry's frenzied thoughts. He had already begun jumping down the broad steps to the arch on the platform and had no intentions of stopping. Remus followed nimbly, hopping down the ledges with the grace of the wolf that cursed him. He grabbed fruitlessly at the back of Harry's jumper, even his curse given enhancements could not catch Harry. Remus pushed himself to the limit, knowing he had to restrain the boy until his grief abated enough to think rationally again.
Harry leapt down the remaining stairs and ran to the platform, knowing by the loping click on the flagstones that Remus was very close now. "I can still get to him!" Harry yelled as the reaching hands brushed his arm.
"No!" Remus cried despairingly as Harry plunged through the veil. It swayed as if it were only a light summer breeze. Not a histrionic youth and certainly not the Savior of the Wizarding World. Somehow the lack of dramatic flaring and snapping of the portal was insulting to the terrible loss.
Dumbledore stood rigidly nearby, his eyes blazing with acute sorrow. Both Sirius and Harry were lost to the veil now. The guilt he had been brushing away for years suddenly became a heavier burden than he could bear. His shoulders slumped over as they should have long ago and eyes did not sparkle with the previous façade of omnipotence.
Beyond the veil existed only a strange milky whiteness that held a cold more severe than any Dementor Harry had ever encountered. It crept along his skin with every movement and bit into his lungs with every drawn breath. He slowed to a stop, worried that something might trip him up if he continued to rush blindly forward. There was nothing here; no visual cues as to the size or depth of this place he'd been taken to. The fluttering veil in his peripheral vision was the only thing grounding him to reality.
Harry stared at what he thought was the floor for a moment. He had expected his godfather to be lying stunned in front of him, or sitting up to catch his breath. "Sirius!" he screamed the name into the implacable blankness engulfing him. "Sirius! Where are you?"
The voices that he had heard whispering outside of the veil were louder now, but still jumbled. They warbled and hummed, the words indistinct and lost among the other voices.
Harry began walking, but it seemed he might as well as stood in place. The movement gained him nothing but pockets and rolls in his clothes for the bitter cold to sneak into. The veil stayed where it was and didn't fade away as he had thought it would. Yet with each step the murmurs became more agitated, more distinct. Harry could nearly make them out now.
"Sirius! Sirius! Please, come back!" He cried out again. He noticed his voice didn't reverberate or carry like it had outside the veil. It was just... absorbed.
His chest rattled as he breathed the frigid air. It was so cold Harry expected to see a little puff rise in front of his face when he exhaled, but wasn't very surprised when there was none. He was the only thing in this solid white expanse of Nothing and it would not let him leave any evidence of his passing. For one delirious moment Harry thought he was made blind. However, from years of using an invisibility cloak, he was acutely aware of how visible his body was.
"Go back!" someone moaned in a rasping voice. It was not Sirius. He did not know this speaker. The others were still too soft, droning on in the background. The hum was not entirely unpleasant but it was disturbing to realize his only companions in the alien environment were the mutterings of strange people he could not see. "Go back!" it rasped for a second time.
"No!" he answered desperately. He had not yet found who he came for. Harry called out to his godfather again as he tried to push himself in deeper, wherever he was. Sirius couldn't be far. He could have slid ... bounced...
"Go back!" some voices murmured again. "You cannot be here!" They had taken on a feminine pitch that reminded him of his mother as she pleaded with Voldemort. That pained and frantic tone sliced into Harry's heart more fiercely than the cold that overwhelmed him.
He would not admit his fear. He would to finish what he started. He had to get to Sirius.
Harry raised his frozen hands to cup around his mouth, "Sirius!" Even his own breath, coming from the core of his body, could not warm the air that feathered his tingling hands. It felt like there were thousands of needles dancing under his skin. Nothing existed outside of himself, he realized. If he fell here, if the cold finally took at the strength he had, would there be anything left of him in this never-ending emptiness?
He would not find out because he would not stop. He was going to find Sirius.
"Dare to enter, boy," the voices snarled now in a deeper, rumbling tone like Quirrel's just before he died. "It will be your last."
"Sirius! Come back!" Harry swung his head back and forth for any sign, anything that could lead to his godfather. His face stung from whatever cold air he had stirred up. The veil was still in the same spot behind him, the only other thing he could see.
"I'm here Harry," said a familiar voice near Harry's ear. "I'm here."
"Sirius!" Harry cried in relief and tried to turn to where he thought the voice was coming from, but there was nothing but gray wetness. The sudden movement allowed the cold to get a better hold and it clawed at him, crawling deeper inside himself. He could feel it in his heart, stirring around with the pleas of his mother. "We have to get out of here!"
The soprano voices chanted like a dying echo, "Get out!"
"Harry," this new voice repeated cheerfully. Harry felt something misty settle on his shoulders, tickling his ears and making him much colder than he would have thought possible. His shoulder might as well have turned to stone at that moment.
"Sirius?" Harry asked in a small, confused voice. There was still nothing to see. He might as well close his eyes and embrace whatever apparition appeared before him. A warm bubble of anger rose within him that he could not explain yet seemed so natural after everything that happened. He had a right to be angry -- he did because Sirius was daring to play with him while he was so upset. Harry quelled his feelings as best he could but his voice was still held the fury he could not suppress, "What are you doing? We need to get back outside. The others are waiting for us."
"I'm staying with you, Harry," Sirius replied blithely, as if everything had already been explained many times before. The world rippled and vibrated with the sound of Sirius' voice, "You're staying with me."
"Take it further..." the voices urged gruffly. The other words were lost, beyond Harry's ability to hear, as if the speakers had been pushed away. Other voices faded in and out like a warped record. Some begged for him to turn away while more urged him to continue.
"We're leaving," Harry said and touched his shoulder, expecting to grasp some tangible part of his godfather. Instead, he felt his hand pass through less than Nothing, reminding him of the time he stuck his hand near Aunt Petunia's vacuum, only a great deal stronger. Harry jerked his hand away and was startled by the pristine, abet pale, skin. Even though there were no outward signs, he believed that the greedy sucking had taken away something. Something incredibly personal and intimate he could never get back. Like a Dementor's Kiss.
Then there was a ripple, a wave, just ahead of him in the gray haze. Harry's eyes darted around to follow a bit of light that wavered near where the floor should have been. Then the misty weight settled heavily on both of his shoulders, bringing his attention back to the spectre of Sirius. It didn't take anything from him this time, but Harry was so cold and his senses so deadened he thought his knees might buckle. Ahead of him now, the veil wavered, the arch having disappeared into the gray murk. Somehow, he'd managed to get himself turned around and not leave the veil behind in the unfathomable gloom. Bemused, Harry found himself watching some small, bright spots flickered along the edge of the veil.
Slowly, Harry looked side to side and up and down trying to see the veil better; to see something more than fluctuating grays and shafts of the reality beyond. He focused on one of the brighter spots but it rippled once more like a gust of wind disturbing still waters. A haze seemed to drop down in front of him. Harry could not feel his own hands on his face as he scrubbed at his eyes. Blinking and rubbing, he opened them in time to see Sirius' blurry silver face streaked away.
Harry grabbed for the image and missed. "It's just there Sirius. We can get out! - " he tried to explain.
"Come with me," the invisible people sang out from the encroaching silence.
"This way," Harry insisted.
"This is the way," Sirius said calmly.
Harry did manage to turn this time ... or did Sirius slide into his line of vision? Harry watched with raw happiness as Sirius' image began to gain color and substance. It was like watching the memory of Tom Riddle in reverse. His arm came into being as his torso outlined itself against the dark. Eventually Sirius was entirely there and Harry could do nothing more than stare. This was no ghost or memory of an Azkaban escapee. This was the man he had met last summer, hale and happy after more than a decade of misery for them both. Feeling so completely numb didn't matter anymore because Sirius was here now. With him in the emptiness that Harry feared he would never escape, inside the veil or out.
Sirius, whom he loved.
Sirius, his second chance at a real family.
In the gloaming Harry saw only Sirius' outstretched hand and the rippling behind him. Nevertheless, it was enough to drive away the feeling of anything other than bliss; to touch his heart and numb any pain that still resided there.
Sirius opened his arms and Harry threw himself at his solidified godfather who caught him up in a hug. "We're leaving. Together," Sirius said firmly, gave Harry another squeeze and let him stand again. Harry barely rocked back onto his heals when Sirius captured his hand and led him into the emptiness where the ripples were spreading as if the curtain had tattered holes.
The flickering light that Harry thought was from the room beyond the veil glittered in the encroaching darkness, which had driven away the murky light Harry had entered with. He felt that if he could light his wand he would be able to see into eternity. Before was Nothing, but this was Emptiness that would continue infinitely. However, it was impossible to reach his wand because he was entirely numb now to everything except Sirius' hand. Even then, it was his arm that felt the tender-but-firm tugs from his godfather and not his cramped fingers.
They walked on at a brisk pace. Harry could hear familiar sounds floating on the air that only existed on the other side of the veil. If they could just get back out there… he could stay with Sirius… everyone was waiting for them.
Sirius's griped suddenly became vice-like. He pulled Harry along so quickly Harry feared stumbling in the now pliable ground, all too aware of its tendency to sink and slide beneath his feet like loose soil.
"Shh... come on Harry," Sirius urged before Harry could protest the harsh treatment.
"Go on... it's too late... you'll make it..." the voices whispered. They sounded farther away than ever before.
Harry saw it then: a light in the inky blackness and cold. For a moment Harry thought they were going to avoid it, but Sirius pulled him nearer with every step. The ground hardened, accepting more of his weight as he trotted behind his godfather. Then the voices died completely leaving only the sounds of their footsteps and the burble of flowing water. The light swayed above what Harry realized was a river. He watched Sirius' expression flicker between elation and something else... something more sinister and less sedate.
Then there was triumph in his eyes and Sirius' head snapped to something in the dark. Around the bobbing lantern Harry could make out a boat and pilot approaching them. The light reflected off the water and danced on the pilings that extended out from the shore. Harry knew now they were on a dock. They had come so far. Perhaps that man would take them back.
The pilot, with his skeletal hands, slowly raised and dipped his paddle while the lantern swayed at the bow. Harry couldn't see the face beneath the hooded robe. Even as he stared at the mysterious boatswain time seemed stretch. The oar was raised and lowered so slowly there was barely any backsplash from the displaced water. After forever, it finally bumped against the dock. Sirius wasted no time getting Harry aboard, lifting him into the boat like a toddler.
Time snapped back to its normal pace. The boat glided away from the dock, leaving a large wake in the smooth water.
They stood side-by-side, gazing out into the inky dark. "Is this the way out?" Harry asked, clutching Sirius' hand with both of his own in a mockery of child-like trust. "Where are we going Sirius?"
"Where we can be together," Sirius smiled, "forever."
The boat floated silently down the murky river into the eternal darkness. A giddy sort of nausea rose from the pit of Harry's stomach. He could be with Sirius now.
---
Author's Notes - I wrote a happy/sappy version of this where Sirius sent Harry back, but decided it was out-of-character. As this is one of my few forays into drama, any and all feedback/criticism (contructive or otherwise) would be greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading! ^__^