a foul place is where i love you

Two

Hello. An update for you. Kinda short, but ... here you go. To my Operation Homeward and Wack-A-Harry readers, I wanted to get this one updated before I got those updated because I already had this one written on paper. I know I haven't updated those in awhile and I'm sorry. But don't give up! It'll happen eventually, I promise!

Comment whatcha think, if you would 😉.

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The only thing that registered in Harry's mind was that everything was way too bright. So bright, in fact, that for several long moments, all he saw was blinding white.

He had no thoughts beyond the sudden rush of fear and pain. His belly tickled with a vague falling sensation, as if he was being sucked down a gigantic hole, but he couldn't think of any explanation for it - really, he couldn't think at all.

That was the scariest part. Even Harry Potter, for all his legendary and harrowing adventures, could not cope with the fear of the unknown.

And then, as suddenly as it had started, it was over.

With a force that knocked the air out of his lungs, Harry landed hard on his back, and the falling feeling ceased.

He tried to blink away the sheet of white still obscuring his vision, to regain his senses. Slowly but surely, it worked - though the panic that sent his heart pounding and body trembling remained.

Harry sat up to get a better look at his current surroundings - a grassy plain blanketed under a clear blue sky. In the distance, he could make out a forest that stretched for several miles on all sides. The only sign of civilization was a sad, small barn that looked as if it had been abandoned years ago.

Harry's head still pounded, his thoughts trying to wade through the mile-long mud-pit that was his brain, but he managed to get to his feet without falling over.

He did a double-take of the plain and forest before muttering to himself, "Now what?" Because, of course, nothing in his life could ever be peaceful and normal, Voldemort alive-and-kicking or not.

As if on cue, shouts echoed from the trees behind him. Dread filled his gut, and he quickly pulled his wand from its holster - thank Merlin that there's at least one plus to all this - and prepared to act. And perhaps it wasn't the smartest to decision to not find somewhere to hide, but if these people could help him figure out what the hell had happened to him, then it was a risk he had to take.

For a moment he considered drawing the Sword of Gryffindor as well, but he figured that if these people were friendly strangers, having an ancient sword at the ready probably wouldn't be the best first impression.

The voices - alert and distressed - were soon accompanied by quick, uneven footsteps. Not a good sign, but Harry stood his ground. Any second now ...

Then, finally, the source of the noise came hurtling from the trees: a group of five figures in Auror robes were sprinting in his direction. Relief allowed him to breathe again. Aurors! Perhaps fate had finally decided to take pity on him.

"Hey!" he shouted to them, lowering his wand and jogging to greet them. "It's me, Harry! Harry Potter!"

There were a few responses he couldn't quite make out, but as the Aurors got closer, he could begin to make out their faces: two women, one tall and lanky with short, dark hair, the other with brown hair tied back; three men, one of which short and bald, another muscular and blond, and the last with short, dark hair and a face that seemed familiar to him, even from a distance. Perhaps a member of the Order?

Harry smiled as they continued to approach, moving to put his wand back in its holster. "Merlin, am I glad to see you -"

He cut off as he realized - or felt in his gut, more like - something ... off about these Aurors. For one, they hadn't really acknowledged him, and he wasn't sure if that was rude or troublesome. Second, they hadn't slowed their pace and were continuing to run directly at him. He raised his wand again as an inner voice that sounded very similar to Alastor Moody's snapped, Constant vigilance!

Time slowed in an instant. Harry barely had the time to react as the Aurors lifted their wands. At the last possible second, Harry brought up a shield purely on gut instinct - from which a flurry of hexes and curses proceeded to bounce off of.

Despite his quick save, the daze he'd been in since his mysterious arrival mixed with the hasty, last-minute spellwork, causing Harry to lose his balance and fall very heroically on his ass.

"What the hell are you doing?" he snapped at the Aurors still charging at him mere feet away. All things considered, it probably wasn't the smartest move, but Harry was beyond caring at this point.

The Aurors answered by very politely sending more spells at him. He barely had the time to block them from his place on the ground, having to narrowly roll out of the way of a few. He stumbled to his feet and turned to run for it, only to find that his antagonists had surrounded him in a circle formation.

"There's nowhere to run, Harry!" boomed a voice so familiar that Harry had to turn to face it, just ... just to make sure ...

Something very heavy fell into his gut as he recognized the face of Sirius Black.

Harry's wand slipped from his hand as his whole body went slack, a sharp, overwhelming pain cutting in his chest, choking off his air supply. No ... Sirius ... Sirius was dead. Had been for four years now. This ... wasn't possible ...

Sirius looked at him with a pained expression that looked oddly like dread, guilt, and hurt mixed into one. Again, time ceased to work, and Harry and his godfather - his living breathing godfather - were the only two things that made up the world. Harry's eyes began to water.

"S-Sirius?" he managed before a sharp pain hit him in the back, and the world faded to darkness.

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Oops. Not really up to my usual standards, but ... I'm really tired right now, so I might go back and do some edits sometime.