A/N: Hmm...OK, perhaps I have added a couple addition original
characters, but I was getting bored, I needed something.
As more about James's complicated past unravels itself, Harry is beginning to learn more things about his late Godfather. But when he discovers too much about the Marauders, Harry's life is thrown into a fatal vortex. Voldemorte is back, he's already failed countless times in killing Harry, and he doesn't intend to fail again.
Between The Heavens, a Trial of Faith: Chapter 17, A Journey Home; Micca
Michelle woke up and looked over at her clock, a bit past one. She slumped her head back on her pillow and heaved a heavy sigh.
"Going to bed so early nowadays, aren't we Miss Potter?" She heard the disembodied voice say slowly. Cocking an eyebrow and looking around Michelle slipped out of bed.
The floor was feathery to her the touch of her feet, "I know this feeling," she said slowly to herself. Dreams were no stranger the Michelle Danielle Potter, and she could recognize when her mind had left her body to a different plane of consciousness.
"Come out come out wherever you are," she whispered slowly, and pulled away a curtain, expecting the disembodied voice to appear. She was taken aback when there was no one to be found.
"Hey," she called softly, "this is my dream, and my mind has made its decision that you are behind my curtain!" She was demanding this with all her strength, and once again, after pulling back the curtain, no one was to be found.
"Michelle!" The voice called again, "this is not a dream, and I know that if you think about this hard enough, you will realize what has happened."
"Occlumency..." She said slowly, "that is really the only logical explanation I can think of. Someone manipulating my dreams, but that's impossible and we both know it."
"Oh, but you don't think its impossible, do you? If you honestly thought it was then you wouldn't have cared if I knew it or not, you wouldn't even have used the term 'we', if this is in fact your dream then the only person here is who your imagination wants to be here."
"Fuck it," she called, exasperated, "just effing show yourself."
The curtains Michelle had checked behind twice rustled, and a man stepped out from behind them.
"Ha!" She said, triumphantly, "I knew you were there, and this just proves my case further, Sirius, you have to be alive to get to my dreams through occlumency."
Sirius shook his head, "No, you just can't be dead."
"You aren't making sense, Black," Michelle said, sitting down on her bed, leaning her back against the wall.
"Use that pretty little head of yours, Potter," Sirius said quietly, "you know better than I that until a body is found you can't just immediately assume someone is dead."
"How brutally unfair," Michelle said, smiling, "but if you were alive then you would have talked to Dumbledore, we both know it."
"Michelle," Sirius said, sitting down beside her, "I was never one for Occlumency, I mean, the only person-"
"I know," she whispered, "I haven't completely forgotten my past, you know."
Sirius nodded looking at her dark eyes. They matched her long hair and gave her fair skin a dramatic tone.
"Where's Harry?" Michelle asked, breaking the silence.
Sirius looked momentarily shocked, "what do you mean?" He asked, clearly concerned.
"If you're telling me the truth, and you aren't dead and you aren't alive then you must either be a ghost or stuck in the astral plane with your silver umbilical cord is hanging by a thread. I'm assuming that the veil you fell threw ended your life but couldn't kill you, so it did the next best thing."
"Threw me into limbo..." Sirius said, "you see, I knew you're pretty little head would come up with some answers.
"So," said Michelle waving her hands around, gesturing to him that the conversation was not done, "if you're in the astral plane then you could quite easily find Harry," she said, looking at his eyes.
"Whomping Willow," Sirius said, his eyes glued shut, "I can't see him, but I feel him, and another life presence; that feels extraordinarily like James."
"Well," Michelle said eyeing him closer than ever, "we both know that that can't be right...however that next best thing-"
"I can't bloody believe that that stallion is still alive," Sirius said irritably, throwing his body up from the bed, clueing into what the James-like presence was.
"You know, Sirius," she said, ignoring his movements across her chamber room, "no spell exists that brings people back from the dead, but I bet there is something out there getting people out of limbo. Of course, I would probably have to find the proper terminology for it first, and Dumbledore would have to be informed of this, which I hate.
"I suppose this is the price you pay," Michelle muttered, "for fighting for what you love. When I was seventeen, and James told me he was going to join to Order, I figured it would be Pettigrew to bite the sweet bitterness of death first. I never thought that because of James's strength and connections to Dumbledore that he might be a prime target, and I wonder if he had known at the time that his acceptance to the Order would one day be the cause of his death, and the death of his wife, I wonder if he would have declined."
"I doubt it," Sirius said matter of factly, "he knew the risk, and I knew the risk of going to get the kids out from the Department of Mysteries. I knew that one of us might be killed, and I knew that if it was me, then Harry would be stranded again, but it was worth it, Michelle, it truly was."
Michelle felt tears crossing her cheeks, "why did you taunt her, Sirius, you fool! You could have killed her in less time than you took to mock her feeble attempts to stun you! You were already on the run, an actual crime wouldn't have made a difference."
"It was the risk we all took, Michelle," he whispered into oblivion.
"Then I'll find a spell, or a potion, to get you out of there. Any ideas of what I'm looking for?"
"You know more about Sheath Bodies than I do," Sirius murmured, but what he was about to say, Michelle never heard. His eyes widened, and the image flickered. In his place there came to pass grotesque images, ones Michelle could never make up on her own. "Get out of my dreams." She screamed mentally to herself, and no sooner had this thought ripped through her mind than there was a large barricade protecting her from unfriendly mind-burglars.
Michelle opened her eyes once again, this time the ground was hard and cold beneath her, and like a chef's knife it pierced through her entire body. She opened her eyes wider as she inhaled her surroundings.
What am I doing in the Forbidding Forest? She wondered silently. Feeling around, she let out a quiet cry of pain.
Broken glass had torn the skin of her right palm, shards of it were embedded into her skin, and dirt was quickly contaminating the wound.
Three more beer bottles, not including the one that cut her hand, lay in front of her.
"Where am I," she whispered.
"You are in the wood of the Elken Rownes, Lady," a voice said behind her.
"Sweet mother of Jesus!" Michelle choked, "this isn't the forest on Hogwarts...this is saddling the shores of the afterlife and the mortal realm."
"Welcome home, Micca." The voice said.
As more about James's complicated past unravels itself, Harry is beginning to learn more things about his late Godfather. But when he discovers too much about the Marauders, Harry's life is thrown into a fatal vortex. Voldemorte is back, he's already failed countless times in killing Harry, and he doesn't intend to fail again.
Between The Heavens, a Trial of Faith: Chapter 17, A Journey Home; Micca
Michelle woke up and looked over at her clock, a bit past one. She slumped her head back on her pillow and heaved a heavy sigh.
"Going to bed so early nowadays, aren't we Miss Potter?" She heard the disembodied voice say slowly. Cocking an eyebrow and looking around Michelle slipped out of bed.
The floor was feathery to her the touch of her feet, "I know this feeling," she said slowly to herself. Dreams were no stranger the Michelle Danielle Potter, and she could recognize when her mind had left her body to a different plane of consciousness.
"Come out come out wherever you are," she whispered slowly, and pulled away a curtain, expecting the disembodied voice to appear. She was taken aback when there was no one to be found.
"Hey," she called softly, "this is my dream, and my mind has made its decision that you are behind my curtain!" She was demanding this with all her strength, and once again, after pulling back the curtain, no one was to be found.
"Michelle!" The voice called again, "this is not a dream, and I know that if you think about this hard enough, you will realize what has happened."
"Occlumency..." She said slowly, "that is really the only logical explanation I can think of. Someone manipulating my dreams, but that's impossible and we both know it."
"Oh, but you don't think its impossible, do you? If you honestly thought it was then you wouldn't have cared if I knew it or not, you wouldn't even have used the term 'we', if this is in fact your dream then the only person here is who your imagination wants to be here."
"Fuck it," she called, exasperated, "just effing show yourself."
The curtains Michelle had checked behind twice rustled, and a man stepped out from behind them.
"Ha!" She said, triumphantly, "I knew you were there, and this just proves my case further, Sirius, you have to be alive to get to my dreams through occlumency."
Sirius shook his head, "No, you just can't be dead."
"You aren't making sense, Black," Michelle said, sitting down on her bed, leaning her back against the wall.
"Use that pretty little head of yours, Potter," Sirius said quietly, "you know better than I that until a body is found you can't just immediately assume someone is dead."
"How brutally unfair," Michelle said, smiling, "but if you were alive then you would have talked to Dumbledore, we both know it."
"Michelle," Sirius said, sitting down beside her, "I was never one for Occlumency, I mean, the only person-"
"I know," she whispered, "I haven't completely forgotten my past, you know."
Sirius nodded looking at her dark eyes. They matched her long hair and gave her fair skin a dramatic tone.
"Where's Harry?" Michelle asked, breaking the silence.
Sirius looked momentarily shocked, "what do you mean?" He asked, clearly concerned.
"If you're telling me the truth, and you aren't dead and you aren't alive then you must either be a ghost or stuck in the astral plane with your silver umbilical cord is hanging by a thread. I'm assuming that the veil you fell threw ended your life but couldn't kill you, so it did the next best thing."
"Threw me into limbo..." Sirius said, "you see, I knew you're pretty little head would come up with some answers.
"So," said Michelle waving her hands around, gesturing to him that the conversation was not done, "if you're in the astral plane then you could quite easily find Harry," she said, looking at his eyes.
"Whomping Willow," Sirius said, his eyes glued shut, "I can't see him, but I feel him, and another life presence; that feels extraordinarily like James."
"Well," Michelle said eyeing him closer than ever, "we both know that that can't be right...however that next best thing-"
"I can't bloody believe that that stallion is still alive," Sirius said irritably, throwing his body up from the bed, clueing into what the James-like presence was.
"You know, Sirius," she said, ignoring his movements across her chamber room, "no spell exists that brings people back from the dead, but I bet there is something out there getting people out of limbo. Of course, I would probably have to find the proper terminology for it first, and Dumbledore would have to be informed of this, which I hate.
"I suppose this is the price you pay," Michelle muttered, "for fighting for what you love. When I was seventeen, and James told me he was going to join to Order, I figured it would be Pettigrew to bite the sweet bitterness of death first. I never thought that because of James's strength and connections to Dumbledore that he might be a prime target, and I wonder if he had known at the time that his acceptance to the Order would one day be the cause of his death, and the death of his wife, I wonder if he would have declined."
"I doubt it," Sirius said matter of factly, "he knew the risk, and I knew the risk of going to get the kids out from the Department of Mysteries. I knew that one of us might be killed, and I knew that if it was me, then Harry would be stranded again, but it was worth it, Michelle, it truly was."
Michelle felt tears crossing her cheeks, "why did you taunt her, Sirius, you fool! You could have killed her in less time than you took to mock her feeble attempts to stun you! You were already on the run, an actual crime wouldn't have made a difference."
"It was the risk we all took, Michelle," he whispered into oblivion.
"Then I'll find a spell, or a potion, to get you out of there. Any ideas of what I'm looking for?"
"You know more about Sheath Bodies than I do," Sirius murmured, but what he was about to say, Michelle never heard. His eyes widened, and the image flickered. In his place there came to pass grotesque images, ones Michelle could never make up on her own. "Get out of my dreams." She screamed mentally to herself, and no sooner had this thought ripped through her mind than there was a large barricade protecting her from unfriendly mind-burglars.
Michelle opened her eyes once again, this time the ground was hard and cold beneath her, and like a chef's knife it pierced through her entire body. She opened her eyes wider as she inhaled her surroundings.
What am I doing in the Forbidding Forest? She wondered silently. Feeling around, she let out a quiet cry of pain.
Broken glass had torn the skin of her right palm, shards of it were embedded into her skin, and dirt was quickly contaminating the wound.
Three more beer bottles, not including the one that cut her hand, lay in front of her.
"Where am I," she whispered.
"You are in the wood of the Elken Rownes, Lady," a voice said behind her.
"Sweet mother of Jesus!" Michelle choked, "this isn't the forest on Hogwarts...this is saddling the shores of the afterlife and the mortal realm."
"Welcome home, Micca." The voice said.