Little Redwood here :P
This is written for HedwigBlack's Weekly Challenge.
This week's challenge: Write a fic about Sirius Black! Extra reviews to those who include Regulus somehow.
AN: This isn't my best work at all. However, I feel the need to post something raw and unedited. So, this is it. No beta and spellcheck kept to sight and the red squiggles under long words.
The Avada Kedavra curse was a curious thing. Simple words, with simple intentions, leading to simple consequences. Yet, the curse was created by a dark man, with dark intentions who yearned for the dark consequences that came with the dark motive behind the curse's dark creation. While curious in its nature, the curse that wreaked so much havoc was simply dark.
Simply dark, what a puzzling concept.
Many feared the blinding luminosity that blast from the users wand, dazzling in its shade. Why? Why did they fear death greeting them? Was it not the inevitable fate of every living being on this earth to eventually wither away and die a death? Be it noble, cowardly, painful or painless, everybody would die. Even if one was thought to be immortal, they could not truly live forever. After all, the earth had a due date.
The human mind forces us to associate something with a feeling. Pain goes with blood and weapons as sadness goes to tears and heartbreak. Death is usually seen as black to many muggles. Wizards however, see green. Green, the color of emerald, of birth and of the healthy. How could something so beautiful cause so much harm? The answer is quite simple. Were demons not created beautiful to tempt sin?
Sirius Black couldn't help but notice the stunning color that shot from his cousin's wand as he stood in front of the veil. It was brighter than the eyes of his godson (something he took a moment to marvel), and even brighter than the grasses that sprung forth when the earth's soil was copious and the rains carried nothing but life.
They say the Avada Kedavra curse killed instantly. There was nothing after the spectacular emerald hit you. But those who say that lie. No death is instantaneous, some are just quicker than others. There is always a moment after the curse hits you where you watch your loved ones scream your name, or watch your enemies cackle in delight as you breathe your last breath. Or none of the above, if you are a particularly lonely being.
Sirius was one of those who saw both. He heard his cousin, dear Bella, shriek in utter elation in one ear as the sound of Harry's pained wails echoed through the other. He wanted to do something, anything. His body betrayed him, however, and he stood, still as a statue for a moment as he waited for something to happen.
You see, the mind is fast. In the time it takes for us to speak a sentence, our mind has prepared a speech for us. So in the time it took for Sirius to feel the curse envelop his body in a spine-chilling cold, watch as his cousin blinked in surprise and heard the pained moan echo from his godson, the spell hadn't even stopped his heart yet.
He wondered if this was what Regulus had felt when he had died. He had been submerged forcefully by the inferi, forced to watch as the cursed water enveloped him, pulling him farther away from the air he so desperately desired as every moment passed. He wondered if Regulus ever had a chance to quench his thirst. Had he had a moment like him? Had he been able to think back to things he had done wrong and the things he never wanted to forget?
He could no longer see and he knew his moment of thought was over. He tipped backwards, thinking of what it felt to enter the veil, the wondered if he would be peaceful. He would never get to know, however. He was dead before his wild black locks touched the thin sheet of magic that would take his body.