Due to overwhelming request, I am re-posting my 7th year fic 'The Life You Leave Behind', which (thanks to the suggestion of a dear friend) has been re-named 'Harry Potter and the Veil of Holdorin'. There will be a few small changes here and there, but the story will be the same as the original. I hope everyone out there will enjoy it, and I'm very excited about putting it up again.
Now, if you were a sensible reader who gave your opinion in a mature manner last time, you can skip right over this next bit.
Last time this story was posted, I was plagued by quite a ridiculous amount of emails that belied the true insanity of some people out in cyber-land. One young lady truly believed she was the only one for Sirius Black, and another insisted that I had written an 'anti-Harry' fic, and all I cared about was the adult characters. This is for those people, and any more like them. This is a FAN FIC. I am NOT JK Rowling. This is a story from my own mind, just using her characters. It will follow pre-Hallows canon where I can accommodate it, but please understand, I don't care if on page 309 of one of the books it says this character wore only green socks their whole life but in my story they wear red. I. Don't. Care. I also happen to love very strong female characters, so true to my own desire I included one. So don't start up with your 'Mary Sue' crap. It's a fan fiction, get over it. To sum it all up, this is more of a Sirius/Snape fic, because I always wondered if there was a deeper underlying reason for their 'friction'. I was bored, I wanted to write, and boom, there's the story. If you do not like this fic, don't read it. You will not hurt my feelings not one bit, whether you WRITE TO ME WITH YOUR CAPS LOCK ON TELLING ME HOW MEAN I WAS TO YOUR FAVORITE CHARACTER or if you leave pathetic feedback like 'u suck i hat u cuz u cn't rite'. I'm not a child (not even a teenager, actually) and my world does not cave in that easily. So please, do not embarrass yourself this time, and just go flame someone else. I am not re-posting this story for you to freak out. I am posting it again for the lovely readers who I enjoy chatting with and who are able to express their opinions, whether pro or con, maturely and without cyber-whining.
Now. I feel better. But I do apologize to the 'normal' folks who don't have life-altering issues regarding fictional characters for my rather 'shove it' attitude. I'm really not that... well, bitchy, but, I mean, honestly.
I can't promise I'll have the entire thing up in a day, but I'll be posting here and there. I hope everyone enjoys, and thanks a lot for your interest. Feel free to PM me or leave reviews, or even come over to the forum. I've been getting a lot of questions about the book that's getting closer to publication, and I'll be posting updates as I can there. Again, thanks so much for all the support from all of you.
So here it is- a 'newly refurbished' version of 'The Life You Leave Behind'.
Deep within the Ministry of Magic, in a bowl-shaped room lined with bench-like seats, a breeze stirred.
Impossible, some would say, for there were no windows- just stairs that led to a door that was bolted shut, and outside that door a room that would defy imagination, that led to several other doors that were, incidentally, shut also.
But a chill did pass through the thick darkness. No one could witness this tickle in the atmosphere, for it was now in the wee hours of the morning. No stir came from any person walking by, or from a threshold being crossed just to check all was well, but from a rusty looking arch that stood on a raised altar in the very middle of the room. Tatters of a veil moved like belly dancers to some erotic flute, twining around in the air with a hint of a whistle. The air grew significantly colder, and something beyond the veil whispered.
"Harry..."
More whispers erupted from the arch, the breeze turning into a torrent of wind, the gnarled fingers of the veil snapping violently as the howl grew. A light suddenly pierced the darkness, blinding white, as its rays shot from the arch in beams that seemed to carry voices that whispered louder, louder, louder, until the whispers became cries, then screams, then, as the light grew brighter still, the scream became that of one man, faint at first, but then in a brilliant flash turning clear.
From the arch flew a man.
He landed roughly on his stomach, his scream cut off as his breath was knocked out of him.
The blinding light died, along with the howl of the wind and the whispers.
There in the dark he lay, gasping to fill his lungs. He rolled onto his back, breathing hard and staring at the ceiling, forcing his eyes to open as filthy fingers clung to the stone floor.
And many miles away, in a bed of satin sheets draped by a matching canopy, in a room that could have belonged to a queen, an elegant body sat up with a start, and a pair of pale blue eyes opened simultaneously.
Harry hated him.
The hate ground so deep into him that sometimes he feared he would have to tear at his chest to release it, that he couldn't take it anymore, that anything was better that this, even death.
But then, he'd never have his chance.
No chance to see him die. No chance to see him plead for his life as Harry's wand delivered such torturous pain and agony before finally cursing him to death as the bastard had done Albus Dumbledore.
It was at times like this when Harry felt his chest swell with a different emotion, one he hadn't had since Dumbledore's death except at these precious moments. It wasn't easy to explain, but it was so powerful that it gave him goose bumps, along with a reason to live unlike any other he had ever known. Not even the fight against Voldemort was as important as one day taking down the one man who was on his mind at all times.
Harry Potter wanted to see Severus Snape die.
When he had arrived at the Dursley's with Ron and Hermione in tow, Uncle Vernon had exploded. But Harry, amazingly, had ignored him completely. That had made Uncle Vernon so sick with rage that he had actually raised his hand to him, but in a flash of light, he fell to the floor, stiff as a board and beady eyes wide. Hermione had stupefied him, and had practically slammed the door in the owl's face that arrived from the Ministry a few moments later. Aunt Petunia had come barreling down the hall, screaming at the top of her lungs, and called Hermione a rather dirty name. Ron had immediately performed a tongue-enlargement charm on her, and as she sat on the floor with her tongue trailing down the hall, he zapped the second owl from the Ministry with a whirlwind, sending feathers and the letter spinning out of control into the yard.
Harry had laughed. "You'd think they had bigger fish to fry," he'd chuckled, then looked at his two best friends in the world. "Maybe you guys should wait outside." They had reluctantly obeyed, and Harry had lifted the charms from the two in the floor.
Uncle Vernon had exploded once again. "Not in my yard!" he'd screamed, the vein in his forehead pulsing eerily. "Not in my yard! I won't have those freaks in my yard, out there for everyone to see! Not in-"
Harry's wand was suddenly in Uncle Vernon's throat, cutting him off. "Those freaks just happen to be my friends."
The older man seemed to go faint for a moment, then he chuckled snarkily. "What are you going to do, you little pest? Jinx me? Kill me? Then what would your freak-school teachers say? 'No more Hogwarts for Harry Potter…'"
Harry leaned in close, so close he could smell the onions from Uncle Vernon's sandwich he had obviously crammed down for lunch. "I'm not going back to Hogwarts, for your information. And nothing would make me happier to blast you right out of this world. But you understand, Uncle," his voice fell, soft and quiet and almost sweet, "why, after all the protection you have given me here, I would only wish to show you the same… kindness that you have shown me."
Uncle Vernon, for the very first time, looked genuinely frightened, but Harry had withdrawn his wand after a moment. It was the thought of revenge on that one person, that one enemy, that kept him from forcing the grotesquely fat man before him to suffer an atrocious fate. If he did something crazy here, he would never have the chance to kill Severus Snape.
"I'm gone," he said. "Forever. You'll never see me again after today. And I only hope that someone comes along and does teach you a lesson, because if they don't, I just might have to break that promise and return someday to finish the job."
That had been music to Uncle Vernon's ears, and he'd said a rather funny line about 'not letting the door hit his arse on the way out', and for some reason, Harry had turned and laughed at him. Just laughed and laughed and laughed until he thought he'd fall to the floor. Dudley had even looked away from the TV to see what all the fuss was about. Aunt Petunia had merely watched from the hall, her arms crossed and a funny scowl twisting her features. Harry had stared at her for a long time before walking out, and read so much in her horsey face- maybe she realized she'd never see him again. But would that have put up that look of doubt and- could it have been- regret?
For a split second, he almost felt sorry for her. He really did. He almost wanted to hug her goodbye, and thank her for her protection that she had given him for the past sixteen years.
But then he remembered how Dumbledore had had to remind her two years ago about that protection, so she wouldn't boot him out, and how many times she'd locked him in that damn cupboard, and how Dudley could lie and lie and whenever Harry told the honest truth he'd be sent to bed without supper, and had to wear Dudley's ridiculously oversized hand-me-downs his whole life, an then met her eyes with a certain disdain.
"Thanks for nothing," he smiled, and turned his back on all of them, Uncle Vernon screaming obscenities as he slammed the door behind him.
He didn't care. He was seventeen in three weeks. He had returned as Dumbledore requested.
Now he could move on.
Hermione was there, of course. And Ron was standing beside her, his arm around her shoulders. Harry was no idiot. He had seen them twirling and smiling at Bill and Fleur's wedding, and had seen them sneak off to the lake later.
He could at least fond some happiness in this world. Even if he had said goodbye to Ginny.
Ginny.
That in itself had been one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do, but as they had lain together underneath a crescent moon four nights ago, he had promised her that when it was all over, when all was said and done, Voldemort defeated and the world back to normal, he would return to that very place, in her arms and in her soul, that he wanted to be so badly.
And he knew he would.
But now was no time to think about that. It was coming- something big, something none of them could ever imagine to expect. He'd had the feeling for a few days, and it got stronger the longer he went. He tried to shake it off, even as the three climbed on the Knight Bus and sat among wizards reading headlines like VOLDEMORT RESURFACES and ALBUS DUMBLEDORE HONORED.
Harry closed his eyes. He had lost so much. It seemed that everything was being taken from him, bit by bit, and in a shot of panic he realized the two people beside him would be in mortal danger, just for being his friends. But as he stared at them, together and somberly returning his gaze with the slightest hints of smiles, he knew that if it hadn't been for them, he would long ago have been dead, or much, much, worse- alone.
He took their hands, and together they huddled, knowing that these could very well be the last days of their being.
But at least they had each other. And sometimes, that was all you needed.