It couldn't be. It wasn't possible. Sirius swallowed at the hard lump that was forming in his throat. His eyes blinked furiously, determined to stop the tears that were threatening to flow from his treacherous eyes.
One hand clenched over his wand, the other hovered over the broken gate. His heart wrenched as he pushed it forward, the familiar creak of the hinges was missing as the gate was shoved over the ground. Sirius remembered how Lily would constantly nag James to fix the creaking gate. It wouldn't even require more then a lazy flick from his wand but James would always be the same old James. As lazy and carefree as ever. At least he was…
Now the gate had almost been blown into pieces and was held together only by tiny amounts of untouched wood.
He looked up through the darkness to examine the second floor of the once homey cottage. Half of the upper floor was gone. Sirius stumbled slightly at the sight. Maybe, just maybe, someone was still alive inside. Perhaps hidden in the rubble, someone was taking glorious breaths of life. Possibly there was a living soul, a soul left to save. What he failed to understand was why the door had been blown to bits. He distinctly remembered hearing about how Voldemort would come and go so quickly and silently, no one would ever know he was there. Just like a snake.
Kicking pieces of rubble out of the way softly with his foot, he paused in front of the ruined doorway. Raising his wand as a precaution, he hesitated momentarily before allowing his wand tip to ignite with a simple "lumos", non verbally of course. If there was anyone in the house who shouldn't have been there, he would rather they didn't hear him come in. Sirius ignored the fact that if they saw the light from his wand, whether he made noise or not really wouldn't make any difference. Stepping over the threshold, he walked past the surprisingly intact living room and kitchen before stopping suddenly as the staircase came into sight.
At the bottom of the staircase was James Potter; lying spread-eagle on his back with his eyes wide open. Frozen, Sirius didn't move. It couldn't possibly be true. He edged closer slowly, noting briefly how James' wand was missing. Kneeling down beside the fallen Marauder, his hands automatically moved to straighten his glasses that had become crooked when he…
James' eyes were still open and even in death; Sirius knew that his Prongs would not have felt fear for his own life for even a moment. Perhaps he had felt fear for his wife and son, but for himself? Never. Sirius looked down in surprise when he saw little droplets of water fall onto James. Raising a shaking hand to his check, he swallowed in surprise. He hasn't realised that the lump in his throat had returned. Wiping his tears away with trembling fingers, he paused; lowering his hands down he decided that on this night, he would not stop his tears. On this night, he would let them fall. On this night, he would cry for his fallen brother.
Sirius bowed his head and let his shoulders shake as his tears fell onto his best friend. 'Prongs. Please. Get up. Please,' he whispered. He couldn't let him go. They had so much to do still, who was going to get into trouble with him now? Sirius stared into James' lifeless eyes. Never had the eyes of James Potter ever been so dull. They simply weren't James' eyes without the mischievous spark, the bright light or the burning fire. Now, his hazel eyes were empty. Sirius' own, were reflected in his friend's. Sirius and James; Black and Potter; Padfoot and Prongs. All that was left now was Sirius; just Black; only Padfoot.
His fingers shaking almost uncontrollably, he closed James' eyelids while tears blinded his vision. Shoulders hunched, he let all pretence of manliness go and cried. He was unaware of how much time had passed before he rose. All he knew was that he had cried until he no longer had any tears to shed. In his zombie like state, he moved up the stairs, his wand tip was ignited but he held the thin piece of wood carelessly by his side. His legs almost gave way from under him when he saw Lily lying on the ground as expressionless and lifeless as her husband.
Her green eyes were unseeing and her hair was spread out behind her. What would he do without her? Who would roll their eyes at his lame jokes? Who would have the fiery temper that could possibly replace Lily Potter? No one. No one could ever replace her; her OR James. It just wasn't possible.
Looking over at the crib in the corner, he lifted the crying Harry and cradled him in his arms. At Sirius's touch, Harry immediately stopped wailing. The fresh flow of tears had already begun for Sirius and as he walked back down the stairs with Harry in his arms, he looked down at James and whispered, 'once a marauder, always a marauder.' Without looking back, he walked out and dissaperated. James and Lily may have been gone, but he would do everything in his power to ensure that Harry knew just how great his parents were. As his godfather, he would raise Harry as his own. He had promised James and Lily and it was a promise he intended to keep.
With one last glance at the ruined house he whispered, 'goodbye brother,' and with a loud crack, he and Harry vanished into the night.
