To Die-
To Sleep, No More.
OK. I'll keep this short. All HP characters courtesy
of JKRowling. Please don't sue! The only thing in my purse is a school ID card,
with a horrible picture! If anyone's done this, I apologize, but I feel like I
have to do this. It's kind of AU.
***
'They used to
say that death was a monster you could beat. Then it was the inevitable. Then it
was simply a fact. What is it now? I wonder. Long ago, I used to think death
was a dragon, and that I could be Saint George...but that day was long ago.'
The man moved in a restless circle. He had to find them- before
the other did. If they were discovered...he would not think on that. The being
passed the door. His flesh numbed, he was falling into memories buried, and
excavated every time they passed him...
It hurt to breathe. He blasted
through the sky on the Harley at top speed, the engine's noise erasing all
thoughts. He was closer- he saw it. A glowing, green skull. 'No! He couldn't
have done it!' He dropped from the hovering motorbike. Running toward the
smoking pile of rubble, he thought of gruesomely mutilated bodies. As he
reached the ruins, he heard a loud wail. Pawing through the wreckage, he caught
a flash of ginger hair. Lily. He felt at her neck for a pulse; she looked like
she was unconscious. Then he realized it. He couldn't help her. He lifted her, and placed her body out of
harms way, as he searched for her son. He soon found him, buried beneath the
remains of his bassinet. Blood poured from a gash on his head. Harry was alive.
He turned, seeing a hand clutching a wand. Pushing aside burnt wood, he saw the
face. And wept harder than he ever had. His best friend. A tall man broke
through the bushes, and lifted the child from the pavement.
"Give him
to me, Hagrid- I'm his godfather." "I can't. Dumbledore's orders.
I'm sorry fer yeh, son. But it'll be fine, Dumbledore'll see tah it." "No.
Here, take the bike. I don't need it." He turned and stalked away, murder
in his heart.
Sirius Black clutched the iron bars of Azkaban's windows. He
would pay. Oh, Peter would pay- pay dearly. Because rats can baited. And bait
is easy to find.
***
He walked, forgotten, among the dust.
Burying himself in a dreamlike state of perpetual semi-consciousness, erasing
it all. Death is but to sleep, a great man once said. Well, to those who have
died and returned, life is but to sleep. Those unknowingly reincarnated.
Godric, Salazar, Rowena, Helga, himself, and a good many others, all hiding
themselves in the dusty manor. He hated it. What had he to live for? Those he
cared about were dead. To the world, he was dead. To reappear- what good would
it do him? Without Lily, without their son- what was life? If death was sleep,
life was a daymare. It would end. But he had to figure out how.
***
Ok. I know this was short, but hey! That's all I can think of.
If you have suggestions, or comments, review. Please review if you liked it. If
you didn't please review and give me constructive criticism. Thanks!
-A Nonny Mouse
