Thoughts Of A Dying Atheist
Disclaimer: I own nothing! It all belongs to J.K. Rowling, the woman richer than the entire British empire.
Sirius Black saw ghosts.
Not like the ones that you would see floating around Hogwarts quite normally, but ghosts of his past. Ghosts of the people he had loved. Ghosts of people who had left him long ago. Sirius felt as though they were always with him, watching him. Waiting for him to be returned to them.
Was he afraid of death? He felt as though he had come close enough to it during his years in Azkaban, but that didn't necessarily mean that he didn't, he felt that he was more concerned with what happened after death.
He dreaded the thought of hell, or worse; nothingness. How could it be possible that one minute you were alive, thinking and feeling and then in the next, there was only an abyss of emptiness.
Sirius had to believe, for James and Lily's sake. He thought of their son, Harry. Surely they would be looking out for him. Never before had he seen such devoted parents. Of course, he didn't really know any other parents, and his had hardly been the type you called 'loving', but that was beside the point.
All he wanted was to be free of this oppression and see any familiar face. He had already given up Harry once, and he would make sure that when he got out of this pit he would find him again.
Hagrid had mentioned something about Lily's sister, hadn't he? He had to at least try.
But these days it was so difficult to transform into his Animagus form, and as far as he saw that would be his only chance of getting out of here.
Sirius refused to let his memories be taken from him, they were all he had. Even if he didmanage to escape there would only be one chance at being accepted back into society: To find Peter Pettigrew. Oh, how he longed to wring that traitors fat little neck!
Wormtail would pay. Sirius would make sure of that.
It was—despite his families nature not like Sirius to become filled with hatred and plot revenge, but he was still a Black, and that meant that at least someof his families traits were passed onto him. He may not have been a Slytherin, but Sirius had always been sly and cunning. He would surely think of something appropriate for Pettigrew.
Merlin, that sounded so grim, Sirius thought.
He didn't want to be like his parents, or his cousins. He despised the lot of them. (apart from Andromeda of course)
Sirius could feel himself growing weaker and weaker by the day. It was maddening. When the Minister of Magic visited he had expected nothing unusual.
That all changed when he saw that article in the Daily Prophet.
This was his only chance. He had to make it. For James, for Lily, for all of them.
Alas! It's all over. This entire story has meant a lot to me, as I proved to myself that I can write, even if I don't feel epically inspired at all moments.
I hope you enjoyed it, and to those who reviewed; thank you.