Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix - J. K. Rowling [336]
The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest.
The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock.
Harry released Neville, though he was unaware of doing so. He was jumping down the steps again, pulling out his wand, as Dumbledore turned to the dais too.
It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall. His body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backward through the ragged veil hanging from the arch. …
And Harry saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on his godfather’s wasted, once-handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind and then fell back into place.
Harry heard Bellatrix Lestrange’s triumphant scream, but knew it meant nothing — Sirius had only just fallen through the archway, he would reappear from the other side any second. …
But Sirius did not reappear.
“SIRIUS!” Harry yelled, “SIRIUS!”
He had reached the floor, his breath coming in searing gasps. Sirius must be just behind the curtain, he, Harry, would pull him back out again. …
But as he reached the ground and sprinted toward the dais, Lupin grabbed Harry around the chest, holding him back.
“There’s nothing you can do, Harry —”
“Get him, save him, he’s only just gone through!”
“It’s too late, Harry —”
“We can still reach him —”
Harry struggled hard and viciously, but Lupin would not let go. …
“There’s nothing you can do, Harry … nothing. … He’s gone.”
The Only One He Ever Feared
“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, he 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 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 reenter the battle —
Lupin dragged Harry away from the dais, Harry still staring at the archway, angry at Sirius now for keeping him waiting —
But some part of him realized, 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, 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 …
Dumbledore had most of the remaining Death Eaters grouped in the middle of the room, seemingly immobilized 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 dat 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 onto the floor and remained still. Lupin’s face was pale. “Let’s —