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Summary
There was a scream at the back of his head, though he couldn't hear it properly as the ringing in his ears drew louder at the movement of stepping back for balance. Harry had never felt pain like this before. It hurt, yeah, but it was peculiar.
His hand slipped from Sirius' grasp as he fell back almost comically slowly. It seemed as if learning how to cast for the first time were faster than this.
Harry's body curved back in a lonely fall, struggling against the cold fabric settling like a veil over his feverish body.
The worry had not quite fell from his face, it never turned calm, always waiting to see if Sirius would come with.
The crooked gasps of laughter from the giddy girl had fallen slack, probably realizing who she had hit. Hitting him with a sectumsempra were fine, in normal circumstances at least.
Harry Potter wasn't to be delivered to her Lord anymore. There was no more Harry Potter to deliver.