Lost Time
By Alexis C.
Breathe. Dodge. Pull back your arm and let loose, a spell ripping forth your lips before you even realise it.
You're moving, flinging one spell after another at your opponent.
"Avada Kedavra!"
A green light flashes overhead as you dive down, your reflexes borne of animal instinct keeping you alive.
All around you, the world is going to hell.
Jets of green and red surround you. Your fellow members of the Order are fighting as hard as you are, each of them determined to protect the boy who has come to mean so much to the world. The boy who has become a symbol of resistance, of allegiance. A symbol worth fighting for, a symbol worth dying for.
You hear the blood rushing through your veins, the pounding of your heart. It's part exertion, part fear. But no, not fear for yourself. Rather -
Your eyes dart to the side for an instant.
A flash of red streaks by you, narrowly missing the man fighting just a few feet away from you. His raven black hair fans out behind him as he tosses his hair imperiously. He's laughing, a sound both sharp and mocking. His eyes are feverishly bright, blazing wildly in his handsome face.
With a start, you realise that this... this is the first time since your reunion that you've seen him so alive.
Not even when he's fucking you wildly into sweet oblivion have you ever seen him like this.
He used to be full of life, like a candle burning too brightly, one that was doomed to burn itself out in a flash.
You take all this in in an instant and your eyes snap back to the Death Eater you are dueling and you fling another spell.
You begged him to stay earlier, but you knew even then that it was no use.
Nothing in the world could have stopped him from rushing to the aid of his grandson. Not Azkaban with all its Dementors. Not even you.
He would do anything for Harry.
You had a bad feeling about the whole thing then, and the feeling has only gotten worse ever since you burst in with the others to rescue his godson. Call it sixth sense, animal instincts or whatever, something bad will happen.
But Sirius Black is not a man meant to be caged, not even by you, although he claims he loves you. You have your doubts.
Twelve years have been a long time. The time alone, bereft of your friends, with nothing but the death of James, Peter, Lily and his betrayal to haunt you has turned you bitter, making you a cynic.
The love you thought lost forever has returned, but he, like you, had changed. Still, you let yourself fall for his sweet whispers, allowed him to touch you in a way no one had in twelve years.
You told yourself that he was lonely, that he had suffered, that he needed the physical contact that he had been denied for so many years. You convinced yourself that you were over him, that you would not make the same mistake twice. But deep in the night, when the only sounds penetrating the heavy silence were your moans as you were entwined in each other's arms, you looked into his eyes as his soft long hair cascaded down all around you and you knew.
You could never let him go again.
You cry out another spell, one that brings your opponent down.
And then -
Your gut twists sickly, as dread captures your heart in its cold clasp. You don't even wait to see if your opponent is stunned, to make sure he doesn't get up again and finish you off when your back is turned.
There is no time.
"SIRIUS!"
You dash over, even as the red light is streaming towards him with deadly accuracy. His laughter is ringing in your ears.
He doesn't even have time to scream. He's falling.
You know you will bring this image with you to your grave.
A voice in your head is saying:
No. Not Sirius. Not him. Not again.
He disappears through the veil.
And just like that, he's gone.
Like James, like Lily and even Peter. Like all the other friends you've lost over the years.
He's gone and now you're the only one left to pick up the pieces as you stare into Harry's haunted ashen face.
End.
