OK, chapter two is up. Thanks everyone for your reviews. I'm glad to see that everyone else wants Sirius back. So, please read on.

Chapter 2 - A Scar and a Discovery

Blood. Blood was being shed. People were dying, dying at the hands of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Around him people were being murdered, and for what? What could anyone say to justify the mindless slaughter which had surrounded them since Lord Voldemort's return?

Nothing.

Harry read the headline of the Daily Prophet.

"Two More Muggles Dead at Hands of Death Eater," it screamed at him from across the milk jugs and sugar bowls.

Yet, sitting here, in Hogwarts' Great Hall, Harry felt estranged from what was going on outside the strong, stone walls. The atmosphere was tense. An air of forboding rang through the corridors, which had lost their warmth, and chatter was diluted all over the hall, as those eating their breakfast read of the horrifying new display of terror which a Death Eater had demonstrated. Any laughter in the school now seemed unnatural, and rang out shrilly in the uneasy silence. Yet this all seemed distant, and unreal to him, like he was watching his body from far away.

Yes, life still went on in the school, but to Harry it had lost all its appeal. Although the full impact of what was going on had not penetrated the student body, most people seemed to be in a type of daze, not really accepting what was going on around them, continuing blindly, in the hope that if they did not think about it, the truth would go away. But it did not, and Harry was reminded of it no matter what he did.

And he knew that the end was coming.

The last battle was drawing ever closer. The battle which would determine the fate of the world. And it the whole responsibility of it was laid upon his shoulders. Voldemort and he must fight. They must complete what had been prophesised almost twenty years ago now. Yet he hoped the fight would come sooner rather than later. He was growing weary of the monotonous routine which life had become. He wished it would come. For he was ready for any outcome - whether he must be the winner or loser. There must only be one winner. For neither can live while the other survives.

Your choice Harry, either be killed or be a killer. Not such a simple one was it?

And the two year anniversary of Sirius's death was drawing close. It was in a matter of days, and then Harry would have to relive during the day the memory which haunted his dreams at night. The memory of Sirius falling, falling.

Harry felt again the grief which tore apart his insides at the memory of Sirius. It almost caused him physical pain. He had to get out of here. This place was smothering him. He sat up, and ran out of the Hall, ignoring the looks he got from some of his fellow students. Hermione and Ron exchanged and worried look, and then Hurried out after him.

Harry reached the grounds. A prickling pain had flared in his scar. It felt as if his head was about to rip apart. A dizzy wave came over him, from both grief and pain, and he was violently sick. He straightened up, and then leaned against a nearby tree, panting heavily, his eyes taking on a glazed look.

Hermione and Ron reached him moments later.

"Oh Harry, Harry, are you alright? You're not well. You should get to the hostpital wing." Hermione fussed.

"I'm fine now Hermione, it's just, I felt choked in the Great Hall. It was too crowded." Harry told her. It was partly truthful.

"Harry, I don't think that's the only reason." Harry looked up genuinely surprised. Ron usually didn't get involved in things like this.

"Harry, was it your scar?" Hermione questioned him.

"Yes." He replied. "He's coming soon. I can feel it."

* * *

Sirius gasped for breath. Dizziness swept over him in waves. His lungs felt choked for air. He needed something to drink, or dehydration would take over him. He found a rock, and sat down on it. A sun blazed over head, though no warmth reached the ground from its rays. He shivered, and then sunk into a kind of daze, falling deeper and deeper into a trance.

He knew what he had to do. He had to kill himself. Then he would be happy. Everyone would be happy. Everyone thought he was dead anyway.

"Wouldn't it be nice if you could just lie down here? Just lie down Sirius, lie down and die. Then you won't have to worry any more." A nasty little voice whispered in his here. He looked up, but saw no one.

He shook his head. What the hell was this place doing to him? It was trying to get him to kill himself. Well he wouldn't give in, he'd do on, and he would fight the hold which this place took over people.

Maybe I'm going mad, he thought. Hearing the voices of people who aren't actually there is never a good sign. I should have listened to Remus, I should have stayed at home. Sure, I'd be no use to anyone, but at least I would have the potential to be of use. Here I can do less than I ever could at Grimmauld Place. At least there I was doing something to help the Order, and they won't be able to spare people to look for me. They probably think I'm dead by now.

He was sinking again, sinking into depression. He lay on the rock, and closing his eyes, let his sleep deprived brain rest. And so he fell into a kind of slumber.

* * *

He woke up, startled by the noises of voices talking close by him. With his eyes still closed he tried to listen to what they were saying.

"Who do you think it is? Do you think he came through the curtain? But they haven't used that thing for years." A man's voice whispered.

"He looks kind of skinny doesn't he, and his hair would need cut. But he doesn't look very dangerous. I do not think that he's a criminal." A second man said.

"No definitely not. Oh my goodness, you don't think, well it couldn't possibly be . HIM?" A woman asked the other two."

"The one who was prophesised? I don't know. I think that we should get him to a safe place anyway. He looks almost dehydrated, and he could do with something to eat." The first man said.

And then suddenly Sirius found himself being lifted, and carried by the people who had previously been discussing his identity. He did not know for how long they had been travelling when they finally came to a stop. He opened his eyes, which had been closed since he woke up.

He stared in wonder at the sight before him. Houses were clustered together, and people moved around the busy streets. It was a village.

Well, what did you think? Please read and review, and tell me. Thanks.