...
We're Livin' on the edge
You can't help yourself from fallin'
Livin' on the edge
You can't help yourself at aaaaaaaall!
Livin' on the edge
You can't stop yourself from faaaaaaaallin'
Livin' on the edge
Livin' on the Edge-Aerosmith
...
The fight was going brilliantly. So well that Sirius actually found himself laughing. He was fighting beside wonderful people against the people he wanted dead the most. He was battling the worst of them all at the moment, his evil cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange.
But then he fell. And he couldn't help himself. That curtain just sucked him right in, and he couldn't stop himself.
It was dark in there, and everyone's screams were suddenly gone. He could feel himself being sucked away. It was so odd. It felt as if he were going backwards-his beard and hair were growing back into his face, his fingernails were getting shorter, he felt a single wrinkle become firm once again. He could have sworn a silver hair went black again.
He had to make it stop. Even if he would have loved to be young again, it was too soon. He was still young anyways! He couldn't let this happen.
So he climbed. He reached out for anything he could find, and pulled. It was the edge of the curtain. He pulled and pulled until he went numb and couldn't even feel himself pulling anymore.
Finally, it happened. His head broke the surface. Light flooded his eyes. He pulled himself into the wrecked department and looked around. There was no one to be found.
He ran.
He ran completely out of the ministry, so fast that no one had the time to recognise him, no one had the time to realise that he was a wanted man or that he was supposed to be dead.
He ran through the streets until he came to a park. He paused to catch his breath before looking around to make sure that the coast was clear. He apparated to the first place he could think of-Number 12.
No one was there. He looked all around until he found a note on the counter, meant for Headmaster Dumbledore.
"We've left for Sirius's funeral early. See you there."
Sirius's jaw dropped. That couldn't be right. Looking around for a shred of something that might make sense, he picked up the Daily Prophet. He scanned the cover before his eye caught something-the date. It was an entire week since he'd gone into the Veil.
Looking around some more, he spotted something else, something taped to one of the cupboards. Reading it caused his heart to crack in two. It was an obituary, a bit of it written by every Order member. Michelle's handwriting was no where to be found.
He clenched his wand and held it out before him. Pressing his eyes closed, he remembered the memory he always used, the night of his seventeenth birthday, celebrated with all of his friends. A rambunctious, silver dog burst forth from his wand tip, and he hastily, shakily spelled out his message.
"I'm alive. Going to find Michelle. Will see all of you at Number 12 when I return."
As soon as he'd once again caught his breath, Sirius apparated from Number 12, going straight to Michelle's house, hoping he found her with open, loving arms.
He didn't know how wrong he was.
...
I'll post more soon! ^^ Please, leave me a review and tell me how you're liking this story. It's unlike anything I've written before, so some feedback would be wonderful!