A/N: It's not what I usually write, I know, but my friend gave me a hint, hint, wink, wink scenario set-up, as well as inspiration for its title, so here you go. I promised I'd write her one of these eventually anyway. This fic is dedicated to my friend, snowsylph.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or its characters.
Immortal Fear
By: Kaoru2.50
Dark and cold surrounded him on all sides. Not the warm darkness of late summer nights, but the chilling darkness of death, spreading fear through his being, encroaching upon the happiness he once held, the anger he once felt, the love he once revered, overwhelming all other emotions. Not the refreshing cold of a new winter's snow, but fingers of ice, freezing him to the marrow of his bone, all the more powerful for the whispers that echoed about the endless space, ringing with horrifying clarity in his ears. Insanity could easily overcome a man in this place, where even alert eyes cannot detect a mere glimmer of light. He was alone. Achingly, sorrowfully alone, with only memories and the voices in the darkness.
Sirius Black, known as Snuffles in some circles, groaned and rolled over on his back. He could not even summon the energy to hiss in pain when his elbow collided with the stone floor upon which he was sprawled. The voices still whispered around him, but they seemed different somehow, less miserable, more questioning. Slowly, slowly, he cracked an eye open, the merest slit through which he could catch only a glimmer of the light that shone above him.
At first, Sirius did not process what his eye told him. To confirm the suspicion niggling in the back of his mind, he opened his other eye, and both widened with the realization that he could see light. The flickering glowing light of candles that outlined the figures leaning over him, hiding their faces in shadow as they whispered in confusion amongst themselves.
The pain of a body too long unmoved slowing him down, Sirius sat up taking in with wonder the room around him and the people in it, shrouded as they were by cloaks and robes. The figures backed away as he reached out, grasping at the nearest object to help him stand. Once in a fully upright position, Sirius looked at the stone beneath his hand and the ragged veil brushing against his fingertips. Gasping, he shoved himself away, almost falling before regaining his balance. Memories flooded through him, of this room filled with Deatheaters and his friends, locked in battle. Of Harry, his godson, his best friend's only child, having just barely escaped death at the hands of those who followed the Dark Lord. Of facing off with his cousin, laughing at her poor aim, then falling.
He stumbled toward the door, apparently left to his own devices by the figures that glided wraithlike among the shelves of the room, his mind focused on one thought, one person, kept upright in the certainty that he was waiting. In some room, waiting patiently, perhaps complying with orders from Dumbledore and assisting Harry in his fight, and holding answers that were so desperately needed was his love, Remus Lupin.
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If asked, Sirius Black would never be able to recollect how exactly he made it, but he finally found himself staring up at the dilapidated structure that was his house, 12 Grimmauld Place. Confident of the warm reception he would receive, Sirius opened the door and entered, jumping only slightly when his mother's portrait began her usual tirade on filthy blood traitors and half-bloods. With effort born of desperation, for this was not the welcome he had anticipated, Sirius struggled the curtains closed, breathing a sigh of relief when the screams ceased.
A gasp alerted him to the presence of another person and he lifted his eyes to the door leading to the kitchen. A smile came to his face. Framed in the arch, still as tired-looking as the last time he saw him, stood Remus in all his patched robed glory. Sirius had pushed himself off the wall and started toward the other man, whose face seemed frozen in shock, before he noticed the person standing beside him, and the hands with fingers entwined between them.
Remus, his Remus, holding hands with his only decent cousin, Tonks. The sight made his heart hurt and he felt as he did when he resided in Azkaban surrounded by Dementors and breathing only the stench of sorrow. His gaze flicked between the two, searching for a sign, any sign that he wasn't really seeing this. "Sirius," breathed Remus, as though he couldn't quite believe that the man was standing before his very eyes. Tonks smiled brightly, oblivious to the undertones of the single word uttered between the men, lifted the hand that clenched that of the man Sirius loved in a cheerful wave. "Wotcher, Sirius!"
A/N: Well, that's all for now, so how about some feedback, yeah? Tell me what you thought, (good, bad or otherwise).
