...The Death Factor...
Sirius Black was known for his looks, his pranks on Snape, his best friends James and Remus, and at a time, Peter. As a Black, his parents had always been optimistic about his future. "What a perfect Pureblood you are!" And Sirius Black had always been proud to be a called some sort of rebel. He loved flying his motorcycle, catch some underwear that had been hanging to dry on his way or try to sneak into the girl's dormitory, at night of course. Ah! Those were the good days, he thought. But what made him the most proud was his godson, Harry. Yep, THE Harry Potter.
The kid had some spunk (and good looks). He was strong, had a certain disregard for rules, had his head in the newspapers headlines and was right now, duelling Voldemort. Yes, Sirius Black was very proud. Expect that Sirius Black was dead.
The understanding of that fact only came later, much later actually. You don't really realise straight away. You're in the middle of a fight with one of your cousins, Bella's the one, and suddenly you just HAD to fall threw THAT veil. How TYPICAL could you get? Sirius, you stupid prick!
To resume, I fell through the veil, got back up and punched Bella in the face. It can still imagine having my knuckles shooting between her eyes, an electrik feeling coursing through my arm as it finally came into contact with her skull. That's when the dreams stop. She's still laughing, I'm still standing, and my fist, not only as it come in contact with her head, it's gone right through!
I sigh at the memory.
What followed went like a blur. I don't know of how I walked away, or maybe glided, not sure. But I left the place like a whirlwind.
Time flies differently when you're dead (yeah, finally figured out that I must have died), things sometimes go into slow motion (it can be quite gruesome, really. Never got to see Snape cleaning his ears out? No one?), or suddenly speed up, and shit! It's already Christmas! Fred, don't forget the presents! It's not tiring, I actually never get to be tired. I can't remember once (since I died, that is) closing my eyes or sleeping. I'm always there, always awake, always aware. Shame that no one ever gets to SEE me, FEEL me, or even HEAR me! Because,hell I can't stop talking to myself!
I sometimes have the urge to wave my arms in front of Harry, make him know that I'm there for him. But it as no use really. I might be dead, I'm not a ghost. I have no affect at all on the living world. And I tell you now, you can't get more boring.
So, I usually spend my days wandering from place to place, Hogwarts sometimes, to see how Harry's doing (and No! I don't go into the girls dormitory anymore! Even though my state can perfectly permit it now). Into Hogsmeade a couple of times, spying on other people's lives. I usually keep away from the Ministry, not going back there I try to convince myself. I can't seem to want to hunt down Death Eaters, or even Voldermort, doesn't seem to be any sense in doing so. There's nothing I can do anymore. I've studied ghosts enough to know that I'm a Wandering Soul, and things couldn't get worse.
Condemned to live the world to it's end and maybe father yet, to take no part in the web of time for I'm been banned from it, and Blah Blah Blah blah. I could go on forever about the subject, literally. How utterly BOoooring..
So while I'm talking to myself, I stay with Harry. I did promise to keep him safe, a promise to James or to myself, who knows. As I can't really anymore, I just... let's say, stick around.
A first chapter, a prologue, just for the fun.
Review? that will be nice.