I do not own Harry Potter, obviously.
I recommend you listen to this on YT: /watch?v=SPdX5T2M0vA while reading. It was a part of my inspiration.
He was fighting again.
His mind was the clearest it had been ever since his Azkaban escape. He could think almost clearly again.
Every Stunner coming his way, every hex and every Darker spell sent at him was missing, almost miraculously, again and again.
He felt free, again.
How long had it been since he last did? Fifteen years? More? He'd lost track of time, each of the years he had spent in Azkaban monotonously similar, torturously alike. Filled with depression, sadness, remorse, hatred, and pain.
He was a broken man. He'd been through the worst. There was nothing left to amaze him, nothing he feared anymore. Not after he had been through everything.
So what if he had escaped? He'd had to hide anyway. Dumbledore made sure he'd have been imprisoned inside his own house—again.
He'd be damned if he were to listen to the old wizard again.
Not anymore.
He was free.
Yet...?
There was no relief.
As if he were hollow.
The only real feeling was the terrible weight of his sins over his shoulders.
Suddenly, his musing was shattered when Harry came closer to him and hexed a blond Death Eater, trying to kill them off. He felt proud and exclaimed, without thinking, "Nice one, James."
Had he been looking, he'd have seen a disturbed expression of the boy.
But he was not.
For his nemesis came into view, sashaying towards him.
He recognized her, only her.
She was looking like an Angel of Death.
A Demon of Madness.
He knew she was there to kill him, it was clear.
But she kept missing, like the others.
A Slicing Curse flew right next to his head, making his hair stand.
He laughed, even though he had no reason to do so.
"Come on, you can do better than that!"
He laughed again.
A second later, he realized it was the last 'again' for him, ever; for his cousin's next curse hit him right in the middle of his chest.
And, for him, it was the first time.
He stilled.
But the world did not stop.
It didn't slow down.
It just went on.
Without him.
He fell on his knees and felt himself slide on the floor.
Then, the Veil he had been standing next to consumed him.
His eyes never closed, but he had an impression he'd opened them again.
For he was seeing the Chamber of Death again.
However, through the blackness of the Veil.
He could see Harry struggling in Remus's arms, shouting.
He saw Remus crying.
He saw a wicked smile on his cousin's face before she turned and fled.
He could see the enraged Order members fighting with a new spirit.
And, again, he felt free.
Only without the weight anymore.
In an instant, he understood; he had a choice.
He could come back. But it wouldn't make any difference for him, for his mistakes'd follow him forever.
Or he could let go. Repaying his sins with his life.
He thought of seeing his godson again.
Then, of meeting his best friend again.
He smiled—or did he?— and he knew.
He had made the choice a long time ago.
He glanced at the despairing Harry once more.
I hope you will forgive me, boy.
Yes. It's a goodbye.
I'm sorry, but I had wretched mood lately and I just had to write this one.
The moment of Sirius's death always had an impact on me, but I truly keep thinking he had the choice somehow and he chose to go away. Not because he wasn't needed, but he knew it'd be best if he did... Which, at the same time, is making me kind of angry :P
Do you think he did have a choice? Or he was dead after falling behind the Veil? The curse of Bellatrix wasn't the killing one, so what did she do to him? Or maybe there was no coming back from the Veil itself, no matter if he was alive or dead?
Whoever reads it, I hope you liked it just a little :)