Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter. Wouldn't want to. GIVE ME SIRIUS ANY DAY!! ^_^
A/N: Just a little one shot that came into my head and was done in about five minutes; the poem, also called "Volant Dance", is the property of Molly Rideout.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Volant Dance
You watch, petrified as the endless stream of indelibly bright scarlet races towards him. Time slows infinitely for you and you can see the initial flinch when it strikes him, the intake of breath at impact. Abruptly, it seems as if time is again playing lover's tricks with you, and with a coy flick of its digits of infinity, it's running away again, forcing you to stand, dumbstruck as he falls.
That black hair that always shone long and bright in the light of the sun is the first to disappear behind the shadowed veil, followed easily by the painfully handsome face that you watched grow from showy adolescence to graceful maturity, even as everybody stands, too dumbstruck to move, to breathe.
You hold the struggling form back, applying all your strength. Later, you will look back on it and realize you were not holding him back; you were desperately searching for a tangible root by which you could hold yourself to this world. You remember days spent lazing together on a rumpled bed and whispered promises.
"Where you go, I go."
Proven a liar at the end of it; anguish racks your frame as the last visible bit of him disappears that dark curtain.
Half felt emotions circle the room
It seems as if the world has become incomplete with his descent into the darkness; dimly you register the shock of others, the sadness, the anguish, but all you can feel is a stunning numbness, freezing you to the core of your being.
Mingling with half heard bits of gossip
Words swirl around in the stormy aftermath, veritable torrents of attempts to articulate the inexpressible. All you can hear is his name, reverberating in your tortured skull, resounding in the back of your throat, adhering itself on the tip of your tongue. And then that other word. "Dead".
Dance your heart out kid
You want to laugh maniacally, hysterically; his was a soul that could never be dampened, never be shut down, and now all these figures who knew him not dare to assume that terrible, awful thing? It's laughable really..until you realize, with dawning horror, that they are right.
The chain won't get any stronger
Long minutes have passed and your dark savior has not reemerged from the dark chasm where he vanished. Deaf to all around you, deaf to yourself, you wait. Wait for him to come back, smiling that irrepressible, infectious grin he spread like a disease, oozing that unconscious charisma that made you promise him the world that wasn't yours to give.
The strongest link is out rescuing his sister
Who were you trying to save?, you scream. Damn his sense of ethics, damn how he passed it on to you while you hung on to every word he fed you like a parched wretch begging for a drop of water.
Life ain't getting any shorter
Suddenly, the rest of your life you had always looked forward to stretches out to an infinite length and you just want to fade away. Fade away until there is nothing left but the memory of a love so great it traversed death. But, you think to yourself, you're too much of a realist for that.
'Cause I've taken all your sharpies
You can't feel everything anymore, only pale wisps of once bright reminiscences that you could grasp with a hand and feel the texture of.
So dance, dance as fast as you can
Dance 'til your feet bleed
Scratched and bleeding flesh is a lost sensation on you, drowned by the euphoric sense of loss robbing you of your breath.
Your brain slips
You know that from now on, all your sensations will be half felt, all your happiness, half real, your hate, half deep.
Your humors slosh
Tears pour down your anguished face and you cannot stop them because you cannot feel them.
And time stops
The world freezes for you once again as the moment of infinite lucidity allows you to realize the one little fact that has been evading your struggling grasp, hiding just behind the distractions of shallow realizations.
Without Sirius, nothing will ever be whole again.