Disclaimer: I dont own any of these characters, JKR does. Though I wish I did
"Death Is Not The End"
I wake. It is a strange feeling to lie in one's bed, yet feel as if your body is not there. My eyes are bleary, masked with a strange grey mist, which clouds my vision for a few moment before it clears. I inspect my position carefully, without looking around. I am sprawled across my bed, face turned skywards, with full travel clothes on. I stare at the draping around my bed, noting with satisfaction the quality of silver and green silk that hangs down. It shines with an inner light, I think. I smile and ease myself up. I am light, more than normal and find that with ease I light myself.
I slide off the side of the bed. My feet hit the floor silently. A stray strand of hair hangs across my eyes. I sweep it back, noting its unusual grey colouring. Funny, I think, must be one of Bella's tricks again. But a sound greets my ears, making them ring. Crying. And not just any crying, my sisters and mother's crying. I look, they are huddled at the foot of my bed, tears being swept away by handkerchiefs emblazoned with the Slytherin emblem. I half smile, and spot a man standing behind them.
He stands tall and pround, chin thrust out. The image of my father, but with long, untidy hair and a careless look about him. Sirius. My eyes narrow, we were never close, but his expression attracts my attention. His face is mainly emotionless, but his eyes betray him. I see a hint of sadness in them and a wave of pity hits me. I approach him and place a hand on his shoulder. To my surprise he doesn't notice me, only moves uncomfortably and looks at my empty bed. But I stare at my hand, there is something wrong.
My-my hand. It is translucent, pearlescent. My prized gloves! I stare at my fur lined cloak, it is grey also. I cant be. Dead? But....... I think back. All I remember is pain, utmost pain, a gold glow, then green, and water..........pain.......never ending pain, and faces...... Faces of the dead. Inferi. It comes rushing back. I blink. That can't of happened. I catch sight of Kreacher, he is hiding in Cissy's skirt, sniffling. A wave of affection for him hits me, it is strong. Unbelieveably so.
I bite my lip to hold back a stream of unneeded tears. But they do not prevent a few sliding down my face and off my smoky, hooked nose. I wipe them away with my sleeve. My once black boots shuffle and I close my eyes. A swirl of colour later I appear else where. Hogwarts? I said somewhere where I had happy memories. I sniffle and smile. Yes, Hogwarts, where I first discovered the might and power of Voldemort.
I pace the halls of Hogwarts, I can go anywhere. This brings a grin to my face. I remember that I am a Slytherin, thus with autmatic entrance to the dungeons and my common room. I may go there. Then there was my fifth year fling with a Ravenclaw. She was more a Slytherin, than Ravenclaw, I guess. Entrance there. Then there was the third year raid on the Hufflepuff common room. Visits to the kitchens, Room of Requirement secret Junior Deatheaters meetings, Gryffindor break ins......
It is no wonder no door lay unopen to me. I smile and visit my old common room. it is a funny feeling being dead, am I really? It is denial, I think and walk through the picture concealing the port hole. The common room has changed. There is several plush chairs and more Slytherin flags. I fully grin, forgetting momentarily my predicament, or really, my past predicament, since I am officially dead. Body unfound. I trust Kreacher not to betray my trust.
I seat myself on a plush chair, and close my eyes, sifting through the events leading up to my death. I feel I am there for some time, for when I awake the room has changed again. I start, hands metaphorically gripping the plush chair and look around. It is not what it was. I am confused. But I focus on the forefront thing in my mind. I am dead. I accept this.
Something happens. I feel....strange....more solid. A Slytherin second year who is sitting across from me looks up from his Charms homework and starts. He screams and runs from the room. I hear someone comment, "He looks like he saw a ghost" and some one reply in a very familiar drawl, "He just did, Crabbe". I stare. A Black? No, those grey eyes...... A Malfoy, I surprise, and I stand. But I ignore him. If time has passed by this quantity, I want to return home.
A whirl of colour later and I am in my room. It has not changed, thankfully. I pull out my collage of clippings of Voldemort's rise to fame. It brings a smile to my face as I glue the last few cuttings on.I suppose I should get someof the latest news so I can gauge the date, I think. I walk through my door, which is when I realise the state of my cloak. The Inferi have torn the bottom of it and left silvery streaks of water, blood and saliva down it. It disgusts me and I make a face at it before walking down the stairs. I enter the kitchen.
"Master! Master! You are back!" Kreacher emerges from a cupboard and runs at me. He passed through me, it is not that pleasant a feeling. I grimace. Then I look at his pleading eyes, rimmed with water.
"Ye-yes, I am. I suppose," I say, shrugging. "Did you tell my siblings and mother?" Kreacher looks at his feet. My face hardens, but he replies quickly.
"Miss Cissy and Miss Bella are married and far away from Kreacher, they are now Mrs Malfoy and Mrs Lestrange. Sirius was a bad and ran away, he is dead at the hand of Miss Bella, and Mrs Black, she is- she is-" he breaks into sobs AND CLIMAXES "D-d-d-d-ea-d! Dead!!!" I cant help but comfort him. My head falls and I stifle a sniff myself. But I must make sure.
"Did you tell them, Kreacher?" I say finally. He shakes his head, and I relax dramatically. "Thankyou, Kreacher," I whisper in his ear before disappearing in a whirl of colour to Hogwarts. Here, the halls are quiet and I seat myself in the library, reading a book from the Restricted section. My face holds an emotionless position and I glow with a ghostly inner light. Students pass my reclusive corner with haste, but I ignore them. it is a long, thick book. When I look up next, a translucent, and very familiar, face greets me.
"Lord?" I say, startled somewhat. He nods his sheet white head and blinks with slit pupiled ghostly eyes.
"Yes, my young Deatheater. Death greets those who defies him with black punishment, but I have escaped that punishment," he replies knowledgably. I recall why I enjoyed listening to him, before he went stark raving mad. He continues, "I have left much unfinished work, I feel as if I have left my Deatheaters hanging," he raises his non-existent eyebrows," so once again I defeat Death." He smiles.
I gulp. "And me?" He smiles again, this time wider.
"You have reached far enough to know the meaning of death" I nod. This is a strange conversation. I cannot tell where this will lead. He smiles wider. I am not liking this.
"Remember, young Deatheater, Death is not the end".
Okay, that sucked. But hey, it has been clogging up meh computer for a bit.
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