AN: this is a very AU story involving Harry's journey to heal from the PTSD and other problems he got growing up with the Dursleys and then from everything that happened in the first five books/movies. in the new, peaceful universe he lands in, Harry slowly learns to trust Lily and James and to be not only their son, but a child.

Harry saw the second jet of light from Bellatrix's wand collide with Sirius's chest.

Sirius began to fall backwards as though in slow motion, a ghost of a laugh still lingering on his features.

Desperately, Harry began to charge down the stairs, no thoughts in his mind, just a desperate need to get to Sirius– to try and save him.

He was too late, though.

When Harry reached the ground, he tried to charge at the veil– sure that Sirius would be waiting for Harry on the other side, a renewed laugh bursting forth.

Lupin grabbed Harry around the waist. "Harry, stop! He's gone–"

"NO–" Harry screamed. "SIRIUS–"

"It's too late, Harry, he's gone," Lupin said, his voice filled with an abominable calmness.

Harry twisted desperately in Lupin's arms, wrenching himself free. He launched himself at the veil, still certain that he would be seeing Sirius in a moment's time.

Harry tripped as he neared the veil, his foot catching on some piece of debris. This was insufficient to stop Harry– his determination to just get to Sirius pulled him forward, through the veil and to the other side.

His eyes widened in shock, then, for there was no other side and no Sirius just beyond it.

There was only darkness.

Harry tried to throw himself backwards, back towards his friends who still needed him, back through the veil, but it was too late.

As the darkness enveloped him, the last thing he heard was someone screeching his name.

Because he had tripped through the veil, the falling sensation that now suffused his entire body was expected.

Harry distantly waited for the dull pain of a heavy landing, but it never came. He just kept falling. And falling.

And falling.

Harry unfolded his limbs– spreading them out to their full length– to try and find something to grasp amidst all the darkness, but he encountered nothing. No matter how hard he tried to fling himself through the empty air, he failed to touch anything at all.

Eventually, he forced himself to stop, his chest heaving, his struggles a clear waste of energy.

In the void of his mind left by abandoning his struggles, Harry realized something that he had forgotten. A feeling of guilt washed over him, so powerful that he forgot he was falling for a moment.

"SIRIUS," Harry shouted into the void. He fell silent, then, and listened expectantly for a response. Harry reassured himself with the knowledge that he had fallen through the veil not long after Sirius, so he ought to be near enough to hear Harry.

After several long moments, Harry tried again. And again. And again. Until his throat was raw and he could feel tears streaming up the sides of his face.

The roaring sound of the air rushing past his ears filled his mind. Harry was still falling. Falling towards nothing he could see.

Sirius was gone. Harry was finally forced to admit it as the spans of time between his calls stretched out longer and his voice lost its desperation, becoming toneless and empty.

Just like the void around him.

Harry had lost his friends, and he had lost Sirius. Harry himself might even be dead– that must be why Lupin had tried to stop Harry from following Sirius, because Lupin had known that to fall through the veil was to die.

Sirius's persistent, continual silence finally made sense– he could not hear Harry, could not respond to Harry, because they were both dead.

Harry did wonder why he still had consciousness and this persistent feeling of falling if he was dead, but he could think of no other explanation for why Sirius would not have responded to him.

And with a fresh wave of guilt sweeping through his body, Harry realized that if he was dead, then he had abandoned his friends to face Voldemort alone.

Harry was supposed to be the only one able to get rid of Voldemort, but now he'd been stupid enough to go and die before fulfilling his destiny. Harry was dead, and his friends were doomed.

Harry thought back to his first year, when Voldemort had asked Harry if he would abandon his friends to join Voldemort. Harry had said no, then. But now, it seemed as though his choice had never mattered at all, because Harry had both abandoned his friends and accomplished one of Voldemort's main goals– the death of Harry Potter.

The thought of death– of Harry being dead– was still so abstract that he had a hard time wrapping his head around it.

Dead.

Like his parents. Like Cedric. Like Sirius.

Harry had always hoped that, when he died, he'd be able to meet his parents again. But it seemed that was not to be, because Harry was still falling with the darkness pressing in from all around.

Harry wrapped his arms around himself. He felt an odd pressure begin to compress his body, and for a moment, he thought that he was simply squeezing his body too tightly. He tried to relax his grip.

But this failed to alleviate the pressure.

Harry took as deep a breath as he could, then gasped as the pressure suddenly began to increase all around his body.

Harry struggled to breathe, to expand his lungs against the pressure compressing them inwards. He was rapidly losing the battle to breathe.

He began to see spots of light around the edges of the field of black.

The spots of light took up more and more of his field of vision, blooming inwards from the edges like starbursts, until it was as though Harry were looking directly into a very bright light.

His thoughts moved slower and slower, until they cut off entirely, and he passed into unconsciousness.

AN: this story has been stuck in my head for ages, and i have been quite obsessed with it the whole time, so i am beyond stoked to hear what y'all think