Author Note: This fic is told by Sirius' point of view after he falls
through the veil.
I'm stunned, unable to truly believe that it's happened. I'm dead. . .I'm actually dead. It's almost too surreal, laughable even. It's only been a few seconds, yet I know. I'm truly dead.
Oh no. . .Harry, poor Harry. . . I can hear him screaming for me, screaming for me to come for him. Is he in trouble? Did the Death Eaters get him? I still see the veil though, the veil I fell through after Bella hit me with the killing curse. I can save my Harry, my godson, I can save him, I HAVE to save him! I charge at the veil, prepared to burst through and reenter to fight, but to my slight shock, it's as solid as a wall. I fall back to the ground, the air knocked from my lungs, slightly dazed.
"SIRIUS!!!!!" There it is again! He's screaming for me, I MUST go to him somehow! I stand up and start to try to push against the veil. It looks like cloth, but it's strong. It won't budge a bit.
"No. . ." For a moment, I wonder where that broken sounding whisper came from, but then I realize that it's me who said it. I slide down to the ground, and hunch up, holding my knees to my chest. Tears have started flowing for the first time in ages and ages. I'll never be able to hold my child again, never comfort Moony when he's alone, never regain freedom from the Ministry, never see Voldemort fall, never laugh at old memories, never feel safe for once in my own bed, never see the faces I long to see, never get to say goodbye. . . never, never, NEVER!! I cry harder as I think this.
The sounds of curses, screaming, anger, and battle continue behind that veil. I only half hear them, since I am still trapped in my thoughts of despair, my thoughts of Harry. . . if only I had been there for him more. . . if only I hadn't expected him to be James. . .so many if only's.
I realize there hasn't been any sound for quite some time now. I don't know how long I have been sitting by this veil, but it must have been long enough. I silently hope no one else has died, but then feel stupid for that thought. No one else came through the veil, so no one else could have died. Slowly, I stand again, shakily. It won't do me any good to stay where I am, so I must move forward. I take cautious steps through this room of complete blackness. I don't know where it is I'm walking to, and that leaves me time to think again.
I start to think about my times with Harry. I remember seeing his flustered, upset, somewhat frightened face as he fled from his relative's house in his third year. I remember seeing his face for the first time, so much like James that I nearly wanted to cry. I wanted to run over to him and hold him and kiss his forehead, just like I did when he was a baby.
I remember that Quidditch game he played against Hufflepuff. Merlin, could that boy fly. . . I felt so guilty when he fell because of those dementors. It was all my fault they came, I just KNOW that they could sense me somehow. I couldn't resist though, I had to see for myself if he was as good as James.
I remember the Shrieking Shack, and how my heart felt like it was torn and smashed when he screamed at me that I was a murderer. If only he knew. . .yes, I did murder his parents, but not in the way he thought. How to explain that to a thirteen year old boy, though?
I remember him smuggling chicken to me in Hogsmeade, and all those letters and fire talks we had during his fourth year. I wanted so bad to be there for him, to protect him from the oncoming dangers that I knew were coming. If only we could have stopped Voldemort from getting Harry. Then I'd still be alive, and comforting my child instead of being the cause of more pain for him.
I remember this year. I wanted so badly to be with him, to laugh and joke with him and pull pranks with him, just like I did with James. Harry was miserable at my place, though. I could tell. Who wouldn't be, with my damned mother screeching at the slightest noise and those grotesque house elf heads on the wall? House elves. . .ooo, I'd like to kill that Kreacher nice and slow and painful like he deserves, and I wouldn't put his head on the wall, just to spite him.
My poor Harry, my poor child. . .yet, he isn't a child anymore, is he? No, he's nearly a man, an adult. And adult very different from James, yet at the same time very like him. I feel guilt now, and wonder if he thinks I never loved him because of that. Does he know I love him? Merlin, I never told him. . .I should've told him. It's too late now, he'll never know. By Circe, I hope he knows. I hope he understands.
I stop walking for a moment, for I see something. It looks like a vortex of light. It's simply swirling in midair, darkness all around it. There's a man close by, simply standing there. He notices me and stands a bit straighter.
"New to the afterlife, eh? Where you off to?"
I pause for a moment. "I'm not sure," I say, hesitantly. "I was just walking. Where should I be off to?"
The man scratches his nose for a moment. "This warphole right here will take you back to Earth." My heart flutters in joy. I can go home to Harry! It IS possible for me to go back to him! "Now don't get too excited!" the man says, seeing the joy on my face. "It'll take you back as a ghost. You don't want to just jump into that."
Even though that dampens my spirits slightly, I still understand one thing. I can go back to Harry. "That doesn't matter, just so long as that takes me back," I say, breathlessly.
The man shakes his head. "You don't get it, do you? If you go back as a ghost, you'll be trapped there as a ghost forever. You'll never be able to pass on to rest in peace. Once the people you go back for die, you won't be able to follow them in the afterlife." That statement gets my attention. I could go back for Harry, but then, even after Harry dies, I'd still be trapped there. I'd be trapped and alone with no one, not even my godson. That was a frightening thought.
Wordlessly, I walk around the vortex, disappointment piercing me like a knife. I notice the man give me a sympathetic look out of the corner of my eye, but I don't care. I trudge silently ahead.
Suddenly, I feel a swell of emotion. I can faintly hear Harry's thought. . .*Sirius. . .* it whispers, mournfully. I feel pain, sadness, regret, grief, anger, and loss flood through me like the strongest poison. My heart clenches at that and I'm nearly tempted to turn on my heel and march back to that vortex, eternal consequences be damned. I finally manage to continue forward and onward to wherever it is I should be going.
Finally, I come to something else. It's a tunnel of some sort that angles straight into the ground. There's a glowing light at the end of it. *The light at the end of the tunnel* I muse. I take a step, then stop. Something feels wrong about it. I feel heat from down there, not to mention that it angles down. Down to hell. I shiver at that thought. My slightly canine senses realize that the light isn't just light, it's fire. Burning, flashing, dangerous fire. The light at the end of the tunnel is hell. I panic slightly and go around the tunnel, running to put as much distance from myself and that tunnel as I can. I keep running, nearly blindly, until I crash hard into something. I fall back with a small 'ooph' and look up into shocked hazel eyes. My blood (If I have any) freezes in a moment as one word escapes my lips.
"James?"
Author Notes: So, how do you like it? It may be a one shot, but if enough people review and like it, I'll continue on with it. It'll be a fic of Sirius in the after life with the people there and how he manages to help Harry through death. If no one likes it though, I'll leave it like this. Please review, it's all the pay I get for writing *puppy dog eyes*
I'm stunned, unable to truly believe that it's happened. I'm dead. . .I'm actually dead. It's almost too surreal, laughable even. It's only been a few seconds, yet I know. I'm truly dead.
Oh no. . .Harry, poor Harry. . . I can hear him screaming for me, screaming for me to come for him. Is he in trouble? Did the Death Eaters get him? I still see the veil though, the veil I fell through after Bella hit me with the killing curse. I can save my Harry, my godson, I can save him, I HAVE to save him! I charge at the veil, prepared to burst through and reenter to fight, but to my slight shock, it's as solid as a wall. I fall back to the ground, the air knocked from my lungs, slightly dazed.
"SIRIUS!!!!!" There it is again! He's screaming for me, I MUST go to him somehow! I stand up and start to try to push against the veil. It looks like cloth, but it's strong. It won't budge a bit.
"No. . ." For a moment, I wonder where that broken sounding whisper came from, but then I realize that it's me who said it. I slide down to the ground, and hunch up, holding my knees to my chest. Tears have started flowing for the first time in ages and ages. I'll never be able to hold my child again, never comfort Moony when he's alone, never regain freedom from the Ministry, never see Voldemort fall, never laugh at old memories, never feel safe for once in my own bed, never see the faces I long to see, never get to say goodbye. . . never, never, NEVER!! I cry harder as I think this.
The sounds of curses, screaming, anger, and battle continue behind that veil. I only half hear them, since I am still trapped in my thoughts of despair, my thoughts of Harry. . . if only I had been there for him more. . . if only I hadn't expected him to be James. . .so many if only's.
I realize there hasn't been any sound for quite some time now. I don't know how long I have been sitting by this veil, but it must have been long enough. I silently hope no one else has died, but then feel stupid for that thought. No one else came through the veil, so no one else could have died. Slowly, I stand again, shakily. It won't do me any good to stay where I am, so I must move forward. I take cautious steps through this room of complete blackness. I don't know where it is I'm walking to, and that leaves me time to think again.
I start to think about my times with Harry. I remember seeing his flustered, upset, somewhat frightened face as he fled from his relative's house in his third year. I remember seeing his face for the first time, so much like James that I nearly wanted to cry. I wanted to run over to him and hold him and kiss his forehead, just like I did when he was a baby.
I remember that Quidditch game he played against Hufflepuff. Merlin, could that boy fly. . . I felt so guilty when he fell because of those dementors. It was all my fault they came, I just KNOW that they could sense me somehow. I couldn't resist though, I had to see for myself if he was as good as James.
I remember the Shrieking Shack, and how my heart felt like it was torn and smashed when he screamed at me that I was a murderer. If only he knew. . .yes, I did murder his parents, but not in the way he thought. How to explain that to a thirteen year old boy, though?
I remember him smuggling chicken to me in Hogsmeade, and all those letters and fire talks we had during his fourth year. I wanted so bad to be there for him, to protect him from the oncoming dangers that I knew were coming. If only we could have stopped Voldemort from getting Harry. Then I'd still be alive, and comforting my child instead of being the cause of more pain for him.
I remember this year. I wanted so badly to be with him, to laugh and joke with him and pull pranks with him, just like I did with James. Harry was miserable at my place, though. I could tell. Who wouldn't be, with my damned mother screeching at the slightest noise and those grotesque house elf heads on the wall? House elves. . .ooo, I'd like to kill that Kreacher nice and slow and painful like he deserves, and I wouldn't put his head on the wall, just to spite him.
My poor Harry, my poor child. . .yet, he isn't a child anymore, is he? No, he's nearly a man, an adult. And adult very different from James, yet at the same time very like him. I feel guilt now, and wonder if he thinks I never loved him because of that. Does he know I love him? Merlin, I never told him. . .I should've told him. It's too late now, he'll never know. By Circe, I hope he knows. I hope he understands.
I stop walking for a moment, for I see something. It looks like a vortex of light. It's simply swirling in midair, darkness all around it. There's a man close by, simply standing there. He notices me and stands a bit straighter.
"New to the afterlife, eh? Where you off to?"
I pause for a moment. "I'm not sure," I say, hesitantly. "I was just walking. Where should I be off to?"
The man scratches his nose for a moment. "This warphole right here will take you back to Earth." My heart flutters in joy. I can go home to Harry! It IS possible for me to go back to him! "Now don't get too excited!" the man says, seeing the joy on my face. "It'll take you back as a ghost. You don't want to just jump into that."
Even though that dampens my spirits slightly, I still understand one thing. I can go back to Harry. "That doesn't matter, just so long as that takes me back," I say, breathlessly.
The man shakes his head. "You don't get it, do you? If you go back as a ghost, you'll be trapped there as a ghost forever. You'll never be able to pass on to rest in peace. Once the people you go back for die, you won't be able to follow them in the afterlife." That statement gets my attention. I could go back for Harry, but then, even after Harry dies, I'd still be trapped there. I'd be trapped and alone with no one, not even my godson. That was a frightening thought.
Wordlessly, I walk around the vortex, disappointment piercing me like a knife. I notice the man give me a sympathetic look out of the corner of my eye, but I don't care. I trudge silently ahead.
Suddenly, I feel a swell of emotion. I can faintly hear Harry's thought. . .*Sirius. . .* it whispers, mournfully. I feel pain, sadness, regret, grief, anger, and loss flood through me like the strongest poison. My heart clenches at that and I'm nearly tempted to turn on my heel and march back to that vortex, eternal consequences be damned. I finally manage to continue forward and onward to wherever it is I should be going.
Finally, I come to something else. It's a tunnel of some sort that angles straight into the ground. There's a glowing light at the end of it. *The light at the end of the tunnel* I muse. I take a step, then stop. Something feels wrong about it. I feel heat from down there, not to mention that it angles down. Down to hell. I shiver at that thought. My slightly canine senses realize that the light isn't just light, it's fire. Burning, flashing, dangerous fire. The light at the end of the tunnel is hell. I panic slightly and go around the tunnel, running to put as much distance from myself and that tunnel as I can. I keep running, nearly blindly, until I crash hard into something. I fall back with a small 'ooph' and look up into shocked hazel eyes. My blood (If I have any) freezes in a moment as one word escapes my lips.
"James?"
Author Notes: So, how do you like it? It may be a one shot, but if enough people review and like it, I'll continue on with it. It'll be a fic of Sirius in the after life with the people there and how he manages to help Harry through death. If no one likes it though, I'll leave it like this. Please review, it's all the pay I get for writing *puppy dog eyes*