iSirius tore through the crowd of bystanding Muggles, anger, magic and adrenaline rushing through him. Thena followed him closely, trying strainfully to keep up with his quickening pace and to convince him not to get in there. The small bruise he had quietened her down with a few minutes ago hadn't exactly restrained her completely and she still argued with him painfully, yet she did understand why he was going off in such a furry. James had been like a brother to her too, he didn't know did he? She did care about him - it wasn't like she felt Peter deserved not to be punished, but it really wasn't Sirius that needed to do the punishing. She reached for his arm as his pace quickened, if it was even possible, and they were in the street, crowded with Muggles, innocent and merely bystanding. iThey didn't need to die,/i Thena thought helplessly, as Sirius shook off her grip; ithey don't need to die/i/ibrbr
--brbr
Sirius' fingers traced the smooth soft lips, regretting ruefully having dragged her here. He never touched those lips before, had he? Only once maybe, when she had asked him to cure her cut lip after that Quidditch match.. He could see Peter vanish suddenly, into the gutters with the other rats, squeeking a cry of either fear, relief or revenge. Who exactly did he have any revenge for, Sirius thought bitterly, his face pressing against Thena's soft pale one.
She really didn't have to die, did she? She was only ninteen, barely. She couldn't leave him
yet, so young, without anything much to remember. Except pain.br
Sirius' eyes clenched tightly together, bitter tears forming at the corner.br
His focus returned back to Thena soon, how she lay so peacefully there on the pavement, among The scattered remains of other Muggles. It looked almost like she was merely sleeping, in a deep distant sleep where peace had prevailed her. Her long black hair was scattered in a tangled sea in the dark, bloodstained pavement, blood and tears staining her dark hair. The blood trickling down her ears angered Sirius; Peter iwas/i sure to make him see the one Sirius loved die right before him, wasn't he? To drive him insane maybe, or to anger him more.br
Lines of long endured pain iwere/i written in her very skin but the sweet peace of death had overruled it. Sirius' hand gripped hers tightly that, if she was still alive, she would have most likely cried out in pain. But she wasn't alive, was she? She was dead, like the others here. Dead as she could ever get, stepping back from Sirius and making it even harder for him to reach her.br
Early morning mist and smoke wafted around them, the sounds of swishing cloaks were soon heard and, letting go gently Thena's slender hand, Sirius rose and let out a laugh that would have belonged to the dementedly crazed person, deranged by grief or anger - or even both - and maybe that laugh did belong to him. He couldn't remember.br
The cloaked officers surrounded him, stalking closer and closer, closening in on him. Cloaked and hooded figures also stalked around, letting out a slight gasp of air, sucking in the staining fear.br
--brbr
Sirius' fingers traced the smooth soft lips, regretting ruefully having dragged her here. He never touched those lips before, had he? Only once maybe, when she had asked him to cure her cut lip after that Quidditch match.. He could see Peter vanish suddenly, into the gutters with the other rats, squeeking a cry of either fear, relief or revenge. Who exactly did he have any revenge for, Sirius thought bitterly, his face pressing against Thena's soft pale one.
She really didn't have to die, did she? She was only ninteen, barely. She couldn't leave him
yet, so young, without anything much to remember. Except pain.br
Sirius' eyes clenched tightly together, bitter tears forming at the corner.br
His focus returned back to Thena soon, how she lay so peacefully there on the pavement, among The scattered remains of other Muggles. It looked almost like she was merely sleeping, in a deep distant sleep where peace had prevailed her. Her long black hair was scattered in a tangled sea in the dark, bloodstained pavement, blood and tears staining her dark hair. The blood trickling down her ears angered Sirius; Peter iwas/i sure to make him see the one Sirius loved die right before him, wasn't he? To drive him insane maybe, or to anger him more.br
Lines of long endured pain iwere/i written in her very skin but the sweet peace of death had overruled it. Sirius' hand gripped hers tightly that, if she was still alive, she would have most likely cried out in pain. But she wasn't alive, was she? She was dead, like the others here. Dead as she could ever get, stepping back from Sirius and making it even harder for him to reach her.br
Early morning mist and smoke wafted around them, the sounds of swishing cloaks were soon heard and, letting go gently Thena's slender hand, Sirius rose and let out a laugh that would have belonged to the dementedly crazed person, deranged by grief or anger - or even both - and maybe that laugh did belong to him. He couldn't remember.br
The cloaked officers surrounded him, stalking closer and closer, closening in on him. Cloaked and hooded figures also stalked around, letting out a slight gasp of air, sucking in the staining fear.br