Sirius Black had never dreaded death. Before his prison sentence, he had considered himself invincible. He wasn't blind, of course, he saw the ravages of war, had watched several classmates die before his eyes, but he and James and Lily had been the top of their class and they came out of every conflict unscathed. Besides, Blacks are the best, an old family mantra whispered in his mind, and though he fought their venomous ideology day and night, he was unable to entirely forego small effects here and there on his ken. His arrogance didn't stem from being a Black, he told himself, it stemmed from being Sirius, from being the one clever enough and strong enough to resist his parents' teachings and decide right and wrong for himself. James and Lily, more mature then, saw more clearly. But no one took him aside to talk some sense into him. They admired his fearlessness, saw that it gave him strength and fortitude that they themselves lacked. He buoyed them up, and never once did they consider that dragging him down to their depths would be a positive thing.

Then in a day his world had exploded and Sirius Black became a dead man. He had twelve lonely years in prison to become accustomed. When he finally escaped, he considered himself dead still, a specter using stolen time to exact his revenge. Then vengeance slipped out of his fingers and he lived for Harry, and for Moony, but never for himself. He never once considered living for himself.

Now, green light. Bellatrix's cackling face and Harry's shattered one emblazon themselves onto his vision as he falls and falls and falls. Funny that these two should be the last faces he sees, for both of them are of people he lost as children. And one of them he's partially regained, got to see for the past few years, but he was looking forward to more years and a victory and weddings and grandchildren and it isn't fair. It isn't fair that he will be torn from Harry again, and not only is it not fair for Harry, it's not fair for him. He loses everyone that he loves. It's like his entire life is a sieve, and nothing he grasps every stays with him and as he hits the ground with a thump he screams, "I DIDN'T WANT TO DIE!"

"Are you sure we're dead?" He scrambles around at the sound of the voice, because it's soft and light and he's dead and now little girls are discussing the situation with him? And he sees a younger version of the face he saw just before falling, and it's eerie how similar the features are and yet how completely different, for this version is innocent and worried and lost. One brow is furrowed delicately.

"Bella…"

"You woke me, I think. How did you wake me? Why was I asleep?"

The flash of green light still coursing through his body as he fell through the veil. "I brought a piece of your magic." He leans forward urgently. "Do you know this place, Bella? Is this the Veil of Mysteries?"

She lifted a hand to his cheek and he senses his memories coursing into her. She gasps, closing her eyes, and after several long seconds they snap open again. The pupils are dilated with panic and fright. "Yes, in the Veil. We can step out of here, though I don't know how concretely, but our souls are tied to the Veil until a tipping point is reached. Sirius, why do I know this? What am I? Who am I?"

"I don't know," he says helplessly, and thinks that he may have another chance at life.

Please review! This is my first hp fanfiction so I'd love feedback :D