"How can I go on like this?" He thought.
Life without the one man he had cared about most was empty. No one could change that. Ever. Not Ronald Weasley, Not Reamus Lupin, not Albus Dumbledore….No one.
Sirius was gone forever.
Harry stared at the ceiling until it blurred. He felt a cool tear roll down his hot face and he wiped it away.
Sirius had always been the one who had cared about him the most and Harry wondered if he were alive right now, what would they be doing together? He knew that he would not be in Number Four Privet Drive, but in Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. With Sirius…. Doing things Harry had only dreamt of doing….
"You were the one that he cared about the most…" Dumbledore's voice echoed around Harry's head.
More tears fell onto Harry's bed sheets. Sirius had given him so much, and now that he was gone, it seemed so empty. His heart was black and had a huge, gapping hole in it that could never be refilled.
His hands gripped his pillow, but his arms were numb and he couldn't feel the cool cotton beneath his fingers.
Harry's heart pounded inside his head, sending a wave of nausea toward his stomach.
He thought of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place and how much pain it had caused for his godfather. He thought of Sirius walking through the halls, glaring at the walls that had been his prison before his death.
Maybe he was in the kitchen, or the basement, perhaps even upstairs looking for
Kreacher….
"That house must be so lonely without him in it," Harry thought, and a tiny voice in the back of his head added, "You mean, without him trapped in it."
It was Snape's fault. Without Snape goading him, Sirius would have never of gone to the Department of Mysteries that night to prove that he wasn't cowardly. More than anything, Harry wanted that to be right. To be the truth. But it wasn't. Sirius had gone to the Ministry of Magic that night to keep Harry from being hurt or even killed. But instead, Sirius had been the one who….
Harry sighed. Nick had told him that Sirius wouldn't come back as a ghost. He knew know that it was true. Sirius hadn't been the type to be scared of death. He would have…Passed on.
Harry almost wished he could to Luna Lovegood. The one person in the world who would know how he felt, and had experienced the same loss. He could talk to her and she'd listen, no matter how unusual she was. But she was miles away, and he had no way of communicating with her…
Communicating….
"Use it if you need me, all right?"
But he had already tried that, and to no avail. Sirius didn't have it on him when he fell through the veil….
Harry opened his sock drawer and pulled out the mirror Sirius had given him so long ago. It was shattered badly and had a few gaps in it where there had been pieces in it. The rest of it was so badly cracked it had an almost spider web effect on the glass.
It wouldn't work, he knew it. It couldn't work, he had all ready tried. Harry's emotions tangled as his breath quickened.
"Sirius Black." He whispered aloud.
Then a broken, rough voice echoed around the room. That voice Harry loved so much….More than life….
"Harry?"
The End