Chapter 1
Darkness
"Just a little farther... I almost have you..." Harry Potter stumbled down the steps toward the veil of the Department of Mysteries. His eyes, filled with tears of hope and loss, shone like a beacon of green light showing the way towards the only father figure he had ever truly known. He reached the bottom, choking back sobs, and leapt through the rippling blackness that separated the living from the dead. Immediately his dreams were realized, and when he came down from his leap, two warm, glowing arms wrapped around him and held him close.
"Mum..." he breathed, and hugged her back. The tears were flowing swiftly now and clouded his vision as he felt someone ruffle his hair playfully behind him. Harry reluctantly let go of his mother to hug his father, taking everything around him. They seemed so close, yet he knew that they were farther away than anything he had ever known. At the same time he realized that they were but a figment of his imagination. But that didn't bother him now. He just wanted to see Sirius again.
And his wish was granted. As he ran his fingers through his dead father's hair, a laugh like a bark made him start. Harry's eyes searched around the room and finally, just when he had realized it was a part of the dream, there stood, more alive than he had ever been, Sirius Black. All others disappeared as Harry flung himself into his godfather's arms, crying harder than he had ever cried before. He felt Sirius's tears mingle with his own and run into his long, matted hair.
And then, suddenly, that matted hair grew in length and pulled back into a ponytail. But no matter. He was still Sirius.
Or so Harry thought.
The stranger tightened their grip on Harry, and soon he felt dizzy and lightheaded. He began to struggle, and as he pushed the stranger off, gasping for air, he saw that the woman strangling him was none other Sirius's cousin and murderer, Bellatrix Lestrange.
Harry squinted through the darkness at her sneering face, and just when he thought he was losing consciousness, her voice cut through the ringing in his ears.
"Finally... I will finish you just like I did my dear cousin," she said, her sunken eyes full of malicious laughter as she tilted Harry's head back and...
...dissolved into darkness. Harry tried to look around but found that his head was stuck in the spot that Bellatrix had left it as though held there by some invisible force. And as he struggled to draw breath, he could hear another creature breathe, a slow, rattling sound that chilled him heart and soul. His mind, fogged with pain and sadness, immediately knew. A dementor.
Harry's heart, already full to bursting with the loss of Sirius, exploded with the weight of the fear that came upon him then. He knew now why his head was tilted backwards. It was going to kiss him.
Now, this may sound pleasant, but a kiss from a dementor is a fate worse than death. Harry was a kiss-attracting machine, which isn't good if you're the world's only chance for survival. In his third year, Harry nearly had his soul sucked out through his mouth, which would have left him an empty shell incapable of many things. He would never have seen what comes after life and death. That is, if he hadn't conjured up a perfect Patronus at that moment, saving his soul from utter destruction. But that's a different story.
Harry could sense nothing now. Nothing but the numbness that hardened his heart and kept the dementor from making him relive his parents' death again, not to mention Sirius's. He closed his eyes and shivered, waiting for the creature enclosed in darkness to come.
But to Harry's surprise, he found himself waiting for quite a while. He opened his eyes, taking in everything of the nothingness surrounding him. And then, just when he thought he was safe, the dementor pulled down its hood and extended its rotting, scabby, glistening, skeletal hands toward Harry's face, prying his mouth open. He didn't resist; he simply wanted to see Sirius again. But then, just as he was an inch away from sheer end, he realized the depth of the situation. At the moment that the dementor kissed him, he screamed, but the sound was stifled by the dementor's mouth. The last thing he heard, or thought he heard, was Uncle Vernon yelling at him to stop that infernal racket.
His head was swimming in darkness now, and when he finally opened his eyes, he was meet with even more darkness. Not to mention the Dursleys. Yelling at him. Again. Because he had had a nightmare. Again. Harry waited for them to stop, and as Aunt Petunia walked out the door, he thought he saw a glimpse of sympathy. But he must have still been dreaming. the Dursleys didn't care a whit about him.
He turned to Hedwig, his owl, for a bit of comfort he knew he would never find. Sirius's death had left a void in him that nothing could ever fill. He was empty now. Permanently.
And as Harry drifted slowly back to sleep, he found that his mind was even emptier.
Darkness
"Just a little farther... I almost have you..." Harry Potter stumbled down the steps toward the veil of the Department of Mysteries. His eyes, filled with tears of hope and loss, shone like a beacon of green light showing the way towards the only father figure he had ever truly known. He reached the bottom, choking back sobs, and leapt through the rippling blackness that separated the living from the dead. Immediately his dreams were realized, and when he came down from his leap, two warm, glowing arms wrapped around him and held him close.
"Mum..." he breathed, and hugged her back. The tears were flowing swiftly now and clouded his vision as he felt someone ruffle his hair playfully behind him. Harry reluctantly let go of his mother to hug his father, taking everything around him. They seemed so close, yet he knew that they were farther away than anything he had ever known. At the same time he realized that they were but a figment of his imagination. But that didn't bother him now. He just wanted to see Sirius again.
And his wish was granted. As he ran his fingers through his dead father's hair, a laugh like a bark made him start. Harry's eyes searched around the room and finally, just when he had realized it was a part of the dream, there stood, more alive than he had ever been, Sirius Black. All others disappeared as Harry flung himself into his godfather's arms, crying harder than he had ever cried before. He felt Sirius's tears mingle with his own and run into his long, matted hair.
And then, suddenly, that matted hair grew in length and pulled back into a ponytail. But no matter. He was still Sirius.
Or so Harry thought.
The stranger tightened their grip on Harry, and soon he felt dizzy and lightheaded. He began to struggle, and as he pushed the stranger off, gasping for air, he saw that the woman strangling him was none other Sirius's cousin and murderer, Bellatrix Lestrange.
Harry squinted through the darkness at her sneering face, and just when he thought he was losing consciousness, her voice cut through the ringing in his ears.
"Finally... I will finish you just like I did my dear cousin," she said, her sunken eyes full of malicious laughter as she tilted Harry's head back and...
...dissolved into darkness. Harry tried to look around but found that his head was stuck in the spot that Bellatrix had left it as though held there by some invisible force. And as he struggled to draw breath, he could hear another creature breathe, a slow, rattling sound that chilled him heart and soul. His mind, fogged with pain and sadness, immediately knew. A dementor.
Harry's heart, already full to bursting with the loss of Sirius, exploded with the weight of the fear that came upon him then. He knew now why his head was tilted backwards. It was going to kiss him.
Now, this may sound pleasant, but a kiss from a dementor is a fate worse than death. Harry was a kiss-attracting machine, which isn't good if you're the world's only chance for survival. In his third year, Harry nearly had his soul sucked out through his mouth, which would have left him an empty shell incapable of many things. He would never have seen what comes after life and death. That is, if he hadn't conjured up a perfect Patronus at that moment, saving his soul from utter destruction. But that's a different story.
Harry could sense nothing now. Nothing but the numbness that hardened his heart and kept the dementor from making him relive his parents' death again, not to mention Sirius's. He closed his eyes and shivered, waiting for the creature enclosed in darkness to come.
But to Harry's surprise, he found himself waiting for quite a while. He opened his eyes, taking in everything of the nothingness surrounding him. And then, just when he thought he was safe, the dementor pulled down its hood and extended its rotting, scabby, glistening, skeletal hands toward Harry's face, prying his mouth open. He didn't resist; he simply wanted to see Sirius again. But then, just as he was an inch away from sheer end, he realized the depth of the situation. At the moment that the dementor kissed him, he screamed, but the sound was stifled by the dementor's mouth. The last thing he heard, or thought he heard, was Uncle Vernon yelling at him to stop that infernal racket.
His head was swimming in darkness now, and when he finally opened his eyes, he was meet with even more darkness. Not to mention the Dursleys. Yelling at him. Again. Because he had had a nightmare. Again. Harry waited for them to stop, and as Aunt Petunia walked out the door, he thought he saw a glimpse of sympathy. But he must have still been dreaming. the Dursleys didn't care a whit about him.
He turned to Hedwig, his owl, for a bit of comfort he knew he would never find. Sirius's death had left a void in him that nothing could ever fill. He was empty now. Permanently.
And as Harry drifted slowly back to sleep, he found that his mind was even emptier.