He Was All I Had

by Veela of Erised

Picking up the pieces after Sirius' death

            I don't own Harry Potter, and unless you're J.K Rowling, neither do you.

There was something strangely inviting about that veil.  Quietly ushering me over, while it fluttered so mysteriously.

            I was so overcome by curiosity and bewilderment.  How could something so simple appear so eerie and yet, to a degree, romantic?

            The flowing, black veil was anchored to an ancient stone arch with no support or visible keystone.

            I felt an uncontrollable urge to go up to it; to touch it.  But they pulled me away.  And that was the last time I saw him.

            He was like a father to me.  He was all I had.  He left and I wasn't ready to say goodbye.  How many more people do I have to loose before they'll let me go?  When will they realise that I'm suffocating and I want out?  I'm alone with no one to turn to. 

            I feel a deep, void space inside.  I don't know what to think.  It doesn't seem like he's dead; just somewhere far away.  Somewhere far beyond my reach.  It's like we've been pulled apart; as if he's on the other side of that veil.

            I can't let go of that memory.  The red jet of light, that swaying veil, and the voices.  I want to believe that, somehow, he'll come back.  It's all I have left.  It's all I can hold on to.