Description: So this is a sequel/prequel to my other Harry Potter fic--How Long Can You Hold Your Breath-- tho it stands alone if you don't mind being lost a bit as to who Dani is. The war is at it fiercest and Dani and Sirius have a lot of extra worries. Surprise, surprise, life doesn't stop for war. They do a lot of reflecting hence the prequel status I'm giving this. There are lots of character pairings that will pop up as well. Enjoy!

Dedicated to: becca. Without her, this story would not be.

Disclaimers: own nothing familiar from this point on. Dani's mine tho. And Pup. And any other new characters.

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Prologue: The Beginning is the End

She held out her robes and looked at the deep, dark red stains that covered them. "Well, those will never come out."

Her companion glanced over at her and chuckled, "This coming from the woman that just used some of the most powerful magic in the books?"

"Yes," she confirmed defiantly. "These will simply have to be burned."

He finally seemed to understand what she was saying, "Got'cha."

They came to the large gates and he pushed, or rather thrust his weight, against them hoping that they would budge. Thankfully, they did rather easily and the witch and wizard continued on their journey.

Snow began to softly fall around them as the trudged up the path towards the castle. The chilly February evening felt electrified around the duo, as if at any moment the very air would spark around them. The wizard had to wonder if any battles had been fought on the grounds recently. After the ferocious battle that had taken place a few years ago, the Order had tried its hardest to keep the fighting away from the school.

"I—I can't believe it's over," she said quietly as they passed the Quidditch pitch to their right. There had been many happy moments there; what she wouldn't give to be in the past enjoying one of those games, watching her friends when times were simpler. She closed her eyes and imagined she could hear the cheers and jeers from the excited crowd; one of the teams had just scored, the spectators erupting in enthusiasm.

"You fought valiantly, love," he offered, dropping his arm around her shoulders.

"Was it enough, though?"

"We won. That's what matters."

"But at what cost?" she asked, shrugging off his arm and stopping. The castle was ever so close and she didn't think she could walk the last few hundred yards to find out the answer.

He sighed, looking longingly at the castle, wishing they were there. Unlike her, he needed to know, to stop hanging on hopes and what-ifs. "I guess we'll know soon."

"Why did the celebration have to be here? To prolong the inevitable? Why couldn't we pick a place that we could count to three and just apparate to? I need to know but I don't want to know! What if she didn't make it? What—what if he didn't make it?"

He took a slow calming breath and said softly, "Well, in a few minutes, we'll know." Wrapping his arm around her back, he rubbed her arm through her sleeve and encouraged her to start walking again. He was anxious. He needed to know who had made it; who was waiting for them to join the celebration. "Hermione, it's been a horrible day. And going up there and finding out that one of the ones we love didn't make it may make today unbearable. But I have to know. I have to see if she's there."

"I hope she is, Sirius."

They continued on in silence.

If someone had told him 20 years ago when he was occupying the hallowed halls of Hogwarts that he would be instrumental in the demise of the Dark Lord, he would have told them how off their rocker they really were and how he only wished it were the truth.

Thankfully, they weren't off their rocker.