Hiya peeps! Next instalment of my story, sorry for the long wait, but I was
swamped with the lack of requests... Never mind, I'd like to thank the two
people who reviewed, and here is your reward! Lol, couldn't resist. Oh, by
the way, I could do with a test reader. Any volunteers? Any readers? Enough
of my blabbering, on with the story!
Oh, just another note: stands for mind babble. I suppose I should put
that round all my writing, shouldn't I?
Harry glared at the intruder.
"Excuse me if I decided to come and make peace with an old enemy. I wasn't aware that it was forbidden." Came the disdainful reply.
"You know, it wouldn't hurt if you'd tell someone you were coming."
"And risk my reputation? Never."
"Snape, you better stay out of site if you want to keep that reputation. I'm not sure I could stand an argument today."
"My apologies Mr. Potter." Snape looked searchingly into Harry's eyes underneath his cloak hood. "I am sorry you know. About your Godfather, I mean. I realise he was the closest thing to family you had."
Harry started, but then replied, "I don't think you realise how right you are."
He turned back to the funeral. A brisk wind blew and Harry wrapped his arms around himself to protect him from the bitterly cold breeze. He hadn't realised how cold it was. His hands had turned blue and the tears were icy cold on his wind-flushed cheeks.
Severus studied the young man carefully. In his mind his conscience was battling with his reason.
M- Why should I care about him? It's his own stupidity that got him in this situation in the first place.
C- Because you feel guilty.
M- Don't be ridiculous. Guilty? For what, exactly?
C- You think it's your fault he's dead.
M- You don't know what you're talking about.
C- If that's what you truly think.
M- And if it is?
C- You're thicker than I thought you were. I mean, you'd have to be a complete lunatic to be arguing to yourself...
We now find our hero among friends and peers in a large, pentagonal, sombre looking room. Thick, dark velvet drapes hang from four of the five walls. The room is windowless, lit by a large and elegant chandelier hung in the middle of the ceiling. Several long dark oak tables run the length of the room, laden with a platter of varying foods. A circular table is placed in the middle, covered with a large midnight blue cloth. The object underneath is hidden, but obviously important.
"...Oh, Harry... It's beautiful. So ethereal, it's perfect."
"Thanks Herm, but I only picked the things out."
"Still, you've done a great job. I'm sure it's appreciated" Hermione Granger, shooting a meaningful look at Harry.
Harry mentally sighed. Everything always led back to Sirius in some way. Well, it was his funeral after all, but, damn it, why did it have to be so painful?
Sorry about the wait, folks. I have been unbelievably busy. I'll try and finish this before the end of the week. Thanks for reading!
Harry glared at the intruder.
"Excuse me if I decided to come and make peace with an old enemy. I wasn't aware that it was forbidden." Came the disdainful reply.
"You know, it wouldn't hurt if you'd tell someone you were coming."
"And risk my reputation? Never."
"Snape, you better stay out of site if you want to keep that reputation. I'm not sure I could stand an argument today."
"My apologies Mr. Potter." Snape looked searchingly into Harry's eyes underneath his cloak hood. "I am sorry you know. About your Godfather, I mean. I realise he was the closest thing to family you had."
Harry started, but then replied, "I don't think you realise how right you are."
He turned back to the funeral. A brisk wind blew and Harry wrapped his arms around himself to protect him from the bitterly cold breeze. He hadn't realised how cold it was. His hands had turned blue and the tears were icy cold on his wind-flushed cheeks.
Severus studied the young man carefully. In his mind his conscience was battling with his reason.
M- Why should I care about him? It's his own stupidity that got him in this situation in the first place.
C- Because you feel guilty.
M- Don't be ridiculous. Guilty? For what, exactly?
C- You think it's your fault he's dead.
M- You don't know what you're talking about.
C- If that's what you truly think.
M- And if it is?
C- You're thicker than I thought you were. I mean, you'd have to be a complete lunatic to be arguing to yourself...
We now find our hero among friends and peers in a large, pentagonal, sombre looking room. Thick, dark velvet drapes hang from four of the five walls. The room is windowless, lit by a large and elegant chandelier hung in the middle of the ceiling. Several long dark oak tables run the length of the room, laden with a platter of varying foods. A circular table is placed in the middle, covered with a large midnight blue cloth. The object underneath is hidden, but obviously important.
"...Oh, Harry... It's beautiful. So ethereal, it's perfect."
"Thanks Herm, but I only picked the things out."
"Still, you've done a great job. I'm sure it's appreciated" Hermione Granger, shooting a meaningful look at Harry.
Harry mentally sighed. Everything always led back to Sirius in some way. Well, it was his funeral after all, but, damn it, why did it have to be so painful?
Sorry about the wait, folks. I have been unbelievably busy. I'll try and finish this before the end of the week. Thanks for reading!