Operation Void

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter! All rights go to J.K.R and Warner Bros©

It was cold, freezing even. Long, white streaks of lightning preceded ear-piercing claps of thunder. The rain pelted against the glass windows. The angrily howling wind added its voice to the cacophony of noises.

Inside the dormitory, he lay, watching the violent thunderstorm play out his turmoil. He watched, and he thought.

He thought.

And thought.

And thought.

He thought until it was too tiring, too overwhelming, to even think anymore. Then, he slept.

He liked sleeping. He wished he could sleep, and never wake. Because every time he awoke, they were there. He hated them. He was disgusted with them. But most of all, he was afraid of them.

He was afraid of their words. Afraid of their cruelty, their poisonous, menacing tones. He was afraid, primarily however, of the truth their words held.

When he slept, he could imagine himself in a world joyous and carefree. He could imagine a world, a world without them. He created his world, his own secret paradise, for when the world got too heavy, for when things got too much to handle. This paradise existed in his head, in his dreams, where no one could ever take it away from him. It was his, and his alone.

He was no fool. He knew that this was not reality, that he'd have to wake up and face the real world one day. But it was not this day, and he would be contented with what little escape he could garner, because real life was far too painful for him to face. Some Gryffindor he was, huh?

He had forgone his classes in favor of sleep time. How long had this been going on? Two weeks? Three? He didn't know – he couldn't remember. He couldn't care to anyway.

Lately, he'd been eating less too, because he figured that, the less he ate, the faster he would be done. And the faster he was finished, the faster he could get back to his dormitory and sleep. He had also taken to eating in the kitchens in the past couple of weeks, finding the quiet environment more preferable. He hated the Great Hall, with all its jolly occupants and boisterous laughter. He hated that unceasing chatter, that constant buzz of noise. He felt absolutely no desire to partake in their gossips and conversations. Truth be told, he felt little desire to do anything at all.

He made his way to his bed in the Gryffindor dormitory and lay on the pillows.

The world, his world, was crumbling around him. Or maybe it was him that was crumbling. Perhaps it was both. He was a sorry mess right now. Or perhaps he'd always been a sorry mess, but just didn't notice?

He felt alone. He felt disgust and hatred. At the world. At himself. Was it both? Or was it neither? He felt so tiny, so insignificant, so unwanted, like a splotch of mud on the sole of a shoe. He felt worthless, like a failure. Perhaps this was what he deserved.

Somewhere inside, something (or was it someone?) was telling him that this wasn't what he deserved. That nothing he said was true.

He heaved a heavy sigh. His thoughts were so conflicting that he couldn't keep up. Resignedly, he closed his eyes and drifted off into paradise.

Sirius was, unusually, thinking. He was at the Gryffindor table having dinner with the usual company. Minus James, that is. Speaking of whom, where in the world was he? He furrowed his brows, trying to remember when he'd last seen James eating with them. Was it two weeks ago? Three, even? At any rate, it was a shockingly long period. Maybe he had remembered wrongly. Yes, that was probably it. Better check with the brainy one, he thought.

"Hey Moony," he asked, "Where's Prongs?"

Remus looked up and saw concern in those grey eyes of his, although Sirius was valiantly trying to mask it. Remus had to admit, he wouldn't put it past Sirius to stun and hide James in a closet or something, before initiating a "Rescue Prongs!" mission. However, Remus knew this was not the case. Not this time, at least.

Remus pondered for a moment before answering slowly, "I… I don't think I've seen him around recently, Padfoot. The only time we've seen him is when we go to bed, but Prong's always knocked out by then. Strange, huh?"

"Mmhmm," muttered Sirius vaguely, before he continued, "You know, Moony, I don't think he's even been in classes for the past few weeks, and we've missed him during Quidditch practices too…" He trailed off, uncertain.

With a gut-wrenching jolt, Remus realized that Sirius had spoken the truth. There was an unsettled, churning feeling down in his stomach. Forget butterflies, Remus was certain it was something way more violent down there. Dragons, maybe. Something was wrong. Something was seriously, terribly wrong. But Remus was blatantly refusing to go down that path; who knew the wild conclusions his mind could jump to?

"Maybe," he started, "Maybe Prongs is ill, Padfoot." There was something bugging him at the back of his mind. Ill for weeks? His vile mind questioned, causing Remus to groan internally. Sometimes, he really wished that his mind wasn't so sharp. With a mental shut up and a shove, he silenced that little devil.

"Yeah… Yeah maybe that's it. Maybe Prongs is just ill, and we're just worried about nothing. Right, Moony?" Somehow, even Sirius knew that this wasn't a simple case of the flu, but he didn't even want to consider any other alternatives, and now sought Remus' opinion. Because, he reasoned, Moony's smart. So if he says that Prongs is just ill, then Prongs is just ill.

"Right…" came Remus' reply. It didn't escape Sirius' notice that Remus sounded unsure too, but as long as Remus agreed, then everything would be okay.

Everything's going to be okay, James is going to be just fine, and we're simply making a mountain out of a molehill, Sirius reprimanded his sixth sense, which was currently giving him a lot of doubts, planting uncertainties in his mind, theories that he didn't want to think about, now at least let me finish my dinner in peace.

After dinner, it was with heavy hearts that the two of them dragged their feet up to their dormitory, with Peter following closely behind. He could pick up on the foreboding atmosphere, and wisely chose not to say anything.

After a quick discussion, it had been decided that the two of them would check up on James tonight. Neither Remus nor Sirius was keen on doing that – it was making them uncomfortable. However, both knew that this was something that had to be done, for the well-being of their best mate, if nothing else. They didn't belong to Gryffindor for nothing.

"Mandrake roots," muttered Sirius as they came to a standstill in front of the Fat Lady. Noticing their forlorn expressions, the Fat Lady said, "Cheer up! Who'll provide the laughter if you two are bummed out?" She smiled at them and opened to allow them passage to the red and gold common room.

Remus and Sirius looked toward the staircase leading up to their dormitory. They took a deep breath, and steeled themselves. With each step they ascended, the harder their hearts pumped.

All too soon they arrived at the four poster that was James' bed. Or rather, what used to be known as a bed. James' belongings were strewn all over the place, the blanket was two-thirds on the floor and the curtains around his bed were haphazardly drawn.

Quietly, (or as quietly as they could, having things littering the surrounding area), they made their way past the sea of dangerous objects and to James' bedside. The two of them inhaled deeply. It was now or never. They pulled the curtains open.

The effects were instantaneous. Sirius let out a breathless gasp of, "Merlin…" and Remus had immediately clapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide and gaze unbelieving.

A/N: That's all for the first chapter folks! This was done in half an hour, without editing as I lacked the time. My apologies if my plot, characterization, grammar or anything else is unsatisfactory! On another note, if you could leave me a review and tell me what you think, it'd be great! I don't mind constructive criticism as long as it's not flaming, especially since it's the first time I'm writing these sort of stories… So please leave a review! If you can tell me what you see happening with this story, that'd be great too! Have a lovely, magical day! Thanks for reading!

Written for Cookies-and-Ink's 'The Not For The Faint of Heart Competition'.