AN: This originally was going to be the introduction to a sixth year fic that I had a very faint idea of where it was going. To say the least, that sixth year fic barely ever got off the ground.
Enjoy and please review!
Disclaimer: The idea of Harry Potter and all the characters in this fic belong to J.K. Rowling, not me. I just like playing in her playground. I'm making no dollars off of this or in other words, don't sue me.
One More Time"Come on, you can do better than that!" Sirius shouted, his face showing confidence and strength. His long black hair was thrown behind his shoulders as he laughed at Bellatrix, challenging her
An angry, mad gleam flashed in Bellatrix Lestrange's dark eyes. She raised her wand high over her head, her face thin and contorted with rage, and whispered an incantation sinisterly. A second jet of red light burst from her wand and zoomed its way towards Sirius. This time he wasn't quick enough to duck, this time Bellatrix's spell wasn't blocked …this time it hit him squarely in the chest.
His eyes widened in shock and his laughter immediately stopped. The echo of his amused chuckling was still faint in the cavernous room, eerily still bouncing off the walls.
Sirius slowly fell backwards, his body curving to make a shape that resembled a comma as he sunk back into the veil.
His body connected with the black curtain hanging from the ancient archway and he fell through, his mouth now making a perfect o, his eyes opened, wide and pleading, as he disappeared behind the veil.
The veil fell back into place, the black material rippling and swaying from the archway like when a pebble is dropped into a pond.
Sirius didn't reappear on the other side. He didn't come back.
"There's nothing you can do, Harry… nothing …He's gone."
Lupin's words echoed over and over again, keeping in time to each sway of the veil.
"Nothing …"
Harry Potter awoke with a start. He was in a cold sweat and shaking, his blankets a piled heap at the end of his bed.
It was that dream again, the dream that had been haunting his sleep the whole summer. The one where Sirius's death was replayed yet again, every grim and chilling detail included, the one that had Lupin's words echoing continually until he finally woke up, banishing the memory from his mind.
Harry hated this dream; he hated it with almost all his heart ... but only almost. As much as he feared and detested the memory it still strangely brought him some small piece of closure and even more strangely, comfort. He was getting to see Sirius again in a way, and that was what he most wanted.
Sirius had died to save him and even though any thought of Sirius made Harry's stomach clench and his chest feel completely empty inside, the thought that his godfather had cared about him so much, so much that he risked his life for him, gave Harry comfort.
Harry went back to sleep, not bothering to detangle the covers at the foot of his bed. After a few minutes of peaceful slumbering the dream yet again restarted, the same way as always, and Harry got to see Sirius's face one more time.