You don’t see it at first. Not clearly.

Everything is chaos. Spells slashing light through the dark like lightning, voices echoing in that cursed stone chamber where the Veil flutters like it’s breathing.

Your father’s laugh is still ringing in your ears. That triumphant grin. The way he taunted Bellatrix, cocky and careless and stupid, the way he always was when he thought he was winning.

Then the flash.

Red.

He stumbles. Backward.

Too far.

The Veil rustles, then parts.

He falls.

He’s gone.

It happens in less than a breath.

“No.”

Your voice doesn’t sound human. It tears out of you, raw and unreal, half-scream, half-prayer.

“No. No no no no—”

You run for him. You don’t know what you’re thinking. That you can pull him back. That he’s still behind it. That the Veil doesn’t mean what everyone says it means.

But Tonks grabs you.

Her arms are around your waist, and she’s saying your name over and over again like it’s a spell. Like it can bring you back to yourself.

“Let me go—let me go—he’s not—”

But he is.

He is gone.

Across the room, Remus is holding Harry the same way. His arms locked around the boy like iron, like grief. Harry’s voice is cracked and breaking as he screams, fists pounding against Remus’s chest.

You think, distantly, We match now.

You fall to your knees in Tonks’ grasp. The Veil moves again, slow and whispering, like it’s still hungry.

You don’t cry. Not yet.

You just keep saying his name. Over and over. As if it’ll echo loud enough to reach him wherever he went.

Sirius.

Dad.