The One That Got Away {Book One in The One Series}

Chapter Eight ~ Denial

Dedicated to Over_My_Dead_Body, for being one of my oldest and most supporting fans.

Chapter Eight

Denial

            The world was spinning.

Adalyn felt her mind reeling as her stomach churned; she could hear people yelling and her own cries as they echoed throughout the vast room. Even with her vision blurred, she could see Harry being held back by Remus, screaming that he wasn’t gone…he couldn’t be…

Across the room, Harry was still struggling, unaware of Adalyn sobbing on the cold floor 'He hasn't gone!' Harry yelled. He did not believe it; he would not believe it; still he fought Lupin with every bit of strength he had. Lupin did not understand; people hid behind that curtain; Harry had heard them whispering the first time he had entered the room. Sirius was hiding, simply lurking out of sight.

'SIRIUS!' he bellowed. 'SIRIUS!'

'He can't come back, Harry,' said Lupin, his voice breaking as he struggled to contain Harry. 'He can't come back, because he's d-”

'HE - IS - NOT - DEAD!' roared Harry. 'SIRIUS!'

There was movement going on around them, pointless bustling, the flashes of more spells. To Harry it was meaningless noise, the deflected curses flying past them did not matter, nothing mattered except that Lupin should stop pretending that Sirius - who was standing feet from them behind that old curtain - was not going to emerge at any moment, shaking back his dark hair and eager to re-enter the battle.

Lupin dragged Harry away from the dais. Harry still staring at the archway, was angry at Sirius now for keeping him waiting -

But some part of him realised, even as he fought to break free from Lupin, that Sirius had never kept him waiting before . . . Sirius had risked everything, always, to see Harry and to help him . . . if Sirius was not reappearing out of that archway when Harry was yelling for him as though his life depended on it, the only possible explanation was that he could not come back . . . that he really was dead.

Dumbledore had most of the remaining Death haters grouped in the middle of the room, seemingly immobilised by invisible ropes; Mad-Eye Moody had crawled across the room to where Tonks lay, and was attempting to revive her; behind the dais there were still flashes of light, grunts and cries - Kingsley had run forward to continue Sirius's duel with Bellatrix.

'Harry?' Neville had slid down the stone benches one by one to the place where Harry stood. Harry was no longer struggling against Lupin, who maintained a precautionary grip on his arm nevertheless. 'Harry . . . I'b really sorry . . .' said Neville. His legs were still dancing uncontrollably. 'Was dad man - was Sirius Black a - a friend of yours?'

Harry nodded.

'Here,' said Lupin quietly, and pointing his wand at Neville's legs he said, 'Finite.' The spell was lifted: Neville's legs fell back to the floor and remained still. Lupin's face was pale. 'Let's - let's find the others. Where are they all, Neville?'