A/N: Wow. I almost finished this. It would be nice if someone reviewed, to encourage me to write the fourth chapter and maybe even get this story over with. Heh. I'm almost there!

Thanks anyhow to everyone who critiqued this far.

Chapter Three: Every me Every You

I had a curious dream last night. And there was Stella and Draco and Remus and Sirius.

I'm awake now and, of course, I remember everything. I believe it is somewhat a curse in the mornings to force yourself to re-experience all those things, all those things that you thought were foggy enough to slip unnoticed by. But they are twisted. Dreams. I've often wondered if the dreams are in fact reality and realty is imagination and everything you think is true is not and everything you find absurd is not abnormal and there you go, you find yourself completely right, completely perfect. All fitted and go-go into life and there's your future, don't waste it.

I like my version.

I'm all alone in space and time. There's nothing here, but what here's mine.

This dream, or this happening, was abnormal whether you say it was or not. As we all have gone and figured now, my Dark Lord speaks to me and - goodness - blesses me - quite roughly - when I'm asleep. I can't help it, but every night, his dagger whispers my name.

But here was Stella. And Remus and Sirius and Draco and all those...

Abnormal is something that in the eye of the spectator is not as it used to be.

Stella kissed me, for one thing to start with. I guess I kind of like her even more now than before because of that slice of dream, or happening, as we might like to call it.

And then came Draco. He put his arm around Stella's throat. His elbow was bleeding. I'm sure I didn't believe him when he told me that I did it. Why would I have done such a thing?

Anyway.

Sirius was there and he'd aged again. His raven hair was white. And I always loved that colour. It's my own - My own? He touched my face and he turned his back to me and I think I smiled but then I saw that face again. The not so straight road and the not quite clear sky.

Remus came and begged for me to stab him in his heart. Again, he said. Asshole. He handed me the most beautiful dagger. Such a precious object. I decided that I wouldn't waste its beauty on the man and I asked him to do me a favour instead.

Carve your name into my arm

It's disgusting. With blood red letters it was spelled on my wrist when I woke up.

And Remus didn't understand why I paid him such rage when I met him in the Dumbledores office, earlier today. He deserves it, damn it. Atleast I wish he did. Wish. Wish. Wish. We all do. Sometimes we all do. I deserve it, damn it.

Hope he knows I'd die for him, if I had reasons enough. I do hope he knows that I love him.

Like the naked leads the blind. I know I'm selfish, I'm unkind. Sucker love. I always find someone to bruise and leave behind.

Now then, for two weeks I have been here at Hogwarts. Sirius comes and goes, just like before.

And I wonder...

Who am I?

Why am I?

Am I the only one who doesn't understand? I never understand. I kind of made myself realise that, not too long ago. Oh, I didn't like it.

Pucker up for heavens sake.

I played my muggle mothers old record. - C'mon people now. Smile on, you brother. Everybody get together, trying to love one another... right now...

It's useless, right?

It was back in those days, with flowers in your hair, you sang about peace and love and understanding and you tried to make everyone happy and you hoped for the future to be bright and NO MORE WAR.

At least that's what my sweet mum did during the late swinging sixties and the lovely seventies. Oh but then came the punk rock and she lost track of everything. Poor mum.

If you're going to San Francisco...

I remember meeting an old man some time ago. His beard was long and he had round glasses and a toothy grin. He laughed all the time and rambled on about the good old days. He probably thought that I appreciated hearing about his old memories from my parents. The only thing I got out of it was the knowledge of that my mother smoked so and so much cannabis forty years ago.

Glad to know she wasn't perfect, at least. I suppose won't have to walk in her footsteps then.

I serve my head up on a plate. It's only comfort, calling late.

I read somewhere that tears means weakness and drinking it away always helps. But then again, the thought of an eleven-year-old alcoholic is quite pathetic. I think I tried the shit a tad bit too early in life. You know who poured it in to me, don't you? He's tall, dark and beautiful.

But in the end, he's an ass.

And in the end I love him. Still, hate him. You know how it is.

Because there's nothing else to do...

¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨

It's early in the morning and I'm watching over my love, sleeping softly. I step closer, because I have missed her while I've been gone. I long for the touch of my baby's slender hands. I long for the control I have over her.

She turns over in her sleep, a sleep that obviously isn't heavy enough. Her lips are moving but no sound comes. Her breathing is rapid and she turns her face to me, eyes still closed.

She's so dead white that it hurts me to see. I pick up my wand and whispers "lumos" as silently as I can. Her friend, someone I've met, is curled up in the bed next to her like a cat, looking peaceful.

I sit on the edge of Jennians' bed. She will hopefully not wake up. My hand trembles over the limp body. Cold, I think, so deadly cold.

Turn her over. A candle is lit, I see through her

My little one.

I laugh. She's so helpless under me. It's such a shame she doesn't understand.

Blow it out and save all her ashes for me

Christmas time was cold. I invited myself home to Remus and was surprised to find her there by the fire, glaring at me as I shook the snow out of my hair. I wondered why she looked sick, but forgot it when I later that evening lay in her bed.

Curse me. I sold her the poison that runs its' course through her

She's sleeping heavier now and I dare to pull the blanket down, just a little. It's what I always expect to find.

Pale white skin with strawberry gashes all over, all over.

Another victim fell some days ago. The Thompsons are dead at last. Their son, Jonathan, is living without parents now. Soon after, the Death Eaters visited Dawn, my old friend, a single mother. They killed her daughter, Ana. And I'm broken.

As often as I can, I come to Remus, just to have someone to talk to, you know. He welcomes me with his tired smile and a warm hug and he says, "You're still alive, my friend."

See, it was with that thought in my head that I made my way to Hogwarts some days ago, so well aware of that I should concentrate on my mission that Dumbledore gave to me, but I didn't care, because I just wanted to meet Jenninan again.

Watch me fault her

During the time I've known her, I have practised and become very good at ignoring the tone of her voice and the look in her eyes as she speaks to me, looks at me.

I just imagine that she doesn't understand.

Isn't horrible? She told me that she didn't love me. Isn't horrible? Why the hell would she say something like that, without a trace of regret? She doesn't love me anymore. Perhaps she never did, but I don't want to think like that.

I grabbed her waist and held her down. "I've got other things to do than to play guardian for you, dear", I said. No, don't speak it.

And the little girl laughed cruelly. She's good at that. "I'm glad you've find yourself a new hobby, dear", she spat, proving to me what a pitiful dog I am.

I glared back, not wanting to loose the fight. "Maybe you don't understand things like this." I was turning angry. It's what you can expect from someone that young. She wasn't there when Voldemort first started to play his... his horrifying game. It's what you can expect from children. They are confused, not educated yet unbelievable. All, incomplete, I wish to think.

But she just laughed.

"Are you sure about that?" It was very dark and cold that night. A storm had broken loose some days ago and simply refused to lay itself down - I somehow compared this with my feelings for Jennian - We stood by the lake, behind a clump of trees. The hard wind flew through her untamed mane of white hair and her eyes were wide, making her look ferocious. Her skin had got paler, I noticed, paler than yesterday and the day before that.

"You weren't there", I said slowly, squinting my eyes. "Don't forget that you're still young, Jen, darling."

The corners of her mouth curled up in a smile and she turned to face the lake with a sigh. "Life will take such a turn when you are gone, Sirius."

"What's that supposed to mean then?"

"Everything you think it does."

I was offended, somehow, and grabbed her arm. Jenninan twirled around and I pressed her against me forcefully. "Why are you talking to me like this?"

"Because you don't know what you're playing with." It was barely a soft whisper into my ear. I felt as if she'd spit it into my face with an open, ear-shattering scream. I took a step back and eyed her up and down.

Back in those days when people had their common sense kept well, they called it disease - they called it sick and drained. Now, when no one saw, it ran like the devil through her blood but something blessing in her mind. Who held the knife and made those marks she wore. Marks I had never seen before. Or maybe I had, maybe I hadn't. The seemed very red, very dark. I wondered where they came from.

It was something dangerous, something very, very wrong.

You're living like a disaster.

"Oh, dear", I whispered.

She said kill me faster, with strawberry gashes all over.

And she wasn't talking to me, I suppose.

Days went, became weeks, then months. I came back to see her by Easter again and told her that I had missed her, met by a sneer.

The number of people who'd died because of standing up against the Death Eaters was disgustingly huge by this time, bringing me further and further down into the dark feeling of failure, anger and hate. Lord Voldemort was not going to succeed - over my dead body. Yes, indeed, over my dead body. Ironic, because it's true and all, you know.

I met her in the Forbidden forest on another rainy, cold night. The moonlight shone on her body, covered by some white cloth. She seemed delighted, in an extremely horrifying way, to see me.

Called her over and asked her if she was improving. I have to care because it's my job as her man. I mean, it's my plight to protect my girl.

She said, "Feels fine. It's wonderful, wonderful here."

But... Jenninan has always been a good liar.

Something has changed, I can tell quite clearly now. I recognise the feeling of panic as I watch her and it frightens me that this is supposed to be perfect, if only in my mind. She's no longer mine and I'm struggling to keep control over myself, to control my will to keep her, prison her, love her, but it won't work and I can only dream, wish, hope, believe but never know, that she is what she is supposed to be.

I've come to the conclusion that we are struggling in two different directions.

¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨

I feel heavy. My hair is white. I feel tired because I've aged again. I turn by back away for a short moment and time has suddenly run away from me. I look down on my iron hands. Above me I see birds flying in circles. A house is burning with green flames somewhere far away. I run to see what's going on and find it to be my own house where I lived when I was a kid. Mother is standing in the doorstep waving for me to step inside. But I don't want to. Someone is standing next to her; it's not my father, because he's dead. I don't want to come.

I feel like I'm the last one of my kind.

Jenninan stands in a corner, laughing at me. She has never been this pale before, I think. I don't want to know who's behind her. I don't want to know why the streets are steamy, why my feet burn. Who's setting the town on fire? Who's responsible for everything I want, want to stop? I don't want to know anything, but I do.

Maybe this is the town of our dreams. Maybe this is our future, with a Dark Lord above us all. And no one hears the screams, because we're only screaming at ourselves, that's all. We feel pathetic. We feel helpless. We are helpless.

I want to get out, but this is a dream and I cannot wake because I'm only dreaming, only sleeping, I'm not in control. I feel helpless. I am helpless. I see a face and a not so straight road and a not quite clear sky and it's over, over, over.

¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨

So there I stood, very confused and frightened of the world around me. In the summer night I ran home to Remus, prepared to warn him. But I found my Jenninan at the doorstep instead, wearing a soft smile.

Hex me.

Why wasn't this as it should have been? She was my precious.

"It's wonderful to see you", I said and she laughed at my lie.

"Indeed, yeah?" She turned her back to me and went inside. "Remus is home."

I wanted to hit her as I came closer, because she smelled so good. What takes the pain away but hurting? I lay my hand on her shoulder. It seemed very big, lying there upon her, the little one who gave no warmth from her body.

"You've betrayed me." My grasp tightened. "Haven't you, Jenninan?"

I told her I dreamt of a devil that knew her.

And she laughed and nodded as if she knew exactly what I was indicating to. My girl, she's got grey eyes, they pierce me as I try to rip my gaze away from hers'.

"You think so, don't you, Sirius?"

"You have..." One more stab and the tears would begin to fall. Drip. Down. Fall down from my eyes, locked with the renegade serpent. She's corrupt, dishonest, sinister, mercenary, underhanded, praetorian, false, unethical, venal - I can't believe I want her.

She nods slowly.

"I have, haven't I?"

"Remus!" I screamed out. I was scared, I admit it, I was damn scared.

"Oh, but I think he's sleeping", she said. "Want me to go get him for you, so that you can cry out? He's a great shoulder, Remus, he really is."

I nodded, feeling numb, but right before she was about to leave me I grabbed her wrists and turned her palms upwards. I cried, silently, and wished to kiss her.

Pale white skin with strawberry gashes all over, all over

"I love you." I tried to taste the words one more time. They felt good, just as I had expected. "And it's alright", I said, because I wanted it to be.

Watch me fault her. You're living like a disaster

"You're pathetic, Sirius Black." Her hands searched their way to my face, and she placed her palms over my closed eyes. "You need me."

This is not over.

Ruby Reversal: Sure thing love! If you read and review my stories, I'd do thirteen assignments all for you. *blink* Honest.

Carson The Critic: What exactly is */*? O.o;

Hnn... She's not a prostitute. Kya kya kya. Sirius would never.. pah! No no... *shuffles feet* Err... no, she's not a prostitute.

BRC: *pats* Dun' worry. It'll be all right.

Greatest Goth Ever: Deep huh? Hehe... Oh reeeally? Thanks dear!