ashteth - My Undying Allegiance and My Immortal Soul: Prologue (HP)

Title: My Undying Allegiance and My Immortal Soul: Prologue (If Only)
Fandom: HP
Rating: PG
Category: Angst
Sub Category: Drama
Main Characters: Harry Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Neville Longbottom
Chap/1shot: Chaptered (very)
Pages: Half a.
Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, FB, QTTA, OoTP, HBP
Summary: Romance and ramifications, plots and poisonings, and the machinations of a mysterious Oracle; all set to the tune of a Voldemort-ruled Wizarding Britain. (But not for long if the Malfoy Family has anything to do with it.)
Disclaimer: Not mine (lucky them)
Author notes: This was started before the release of OotP (or HBP) but, luckily enough, J.K. and I are on the same page about most things, so not too much rewriting was needed. Ok, except for the big fat 'Death of a Major Character' but I've always liked a challenge.

My thanks to Philo - my lovely beta who put up with me and my moveable chapters, and Eleanor – like Remus Lupin she is a killing machine wrapped in the body of a bumbling academic (or so she tells me), she's also one helluva sister. She took this fic when it was still in its embryonic stage, beta read it, reassured me it wasn't crap, and then cheerfully proceeded to insert as many swearwords as she could.



Few people realise how close Sirius Black came to death that night in the Department of Mysteries.

Remus Lupin was one of those people; he spent the weeks after either glued to his remaining best friend’s side or waking up in cold sweats from dreams where he cradled a sobbing Harry. Sirius laughed at him for both responses.

Harry Potter was another. He blamed himself for everything that went wrong that night and a few things that didn’t. The scars that both Ron and Hermione bore were a constant reminder to him of how close they’d all come to death that night. Sirius, whilst he didn’t exactly laugh at Harry, made it clear how he felt – in his mind ‘death’ and ‘coming close to death’ were infinities apart and if one spent all one’s time worrying about the distance you’d never get anything done.

Neville Longbottom was also disturbed by Sirius’ brush with mortality. Strangely disturbed, considering he barely knew Sirius. He, too, woke from disturbing dreams of worlds where Sirius had fallen through the veil, where Harry was a pale shade wracked with grief and, on one surreal occasion, from a dream where Bellatrix’s spell turned Sirius into a bowl of petunias and a sperm whale. What Sirius thought of this: no one knew. Neville never told anyone about his dreams; not even when they started to get a lot more accurate.

Regardless of what anyone felt, especially Sirius, death had not been an infinity away that night – quite the contrary. It had been a mere step away. One step to the left, to be precise, that made the difference between ‘glancing blow’ and ‘Sirius Black – RIP.’.