Been a while, so here's a drabble. Enjoy and please comment!
Also, myself not being J.K. Rowling, I don't own the Harry Potterverse. Damn. Just think what I could do with those Marauders.
Sirius was a cocky bastard. He smirked when the spell hit, He smirked as he lost his footing, tripped backwards, fell.
He didn't as he came down, a great tumbling leaf, through air. He fell amongst whispers. His long black hair wisped against the silvery nonfabric of the veil. Like submerging through water, his head disappeared. Sirius, like drropping a pebble, gone. I couldn't look away as the man I love died. Harry screamed, tried to go after him. I knew the feeling. But this was war, so I held him. And tried not to cry. I always hated silver.