I wrote this one night after someone claimed Remus hadn't really cared all that much the moment Sirius died, not like Harry had. I re-read the passage, I saw the little pain JKR allowed us to see, and I knew it wasn't true. 805 is the page number. (I have a habit of memorizing page numbers of deceased characters.)

I hope I have the italics and bolds right.

Disclaimer: I'm obviously not JKR – she uses nowhere near as many italics and bolds – so don't bother. I'm also not Eisley, so don't yell at me for using their lyrics.






.:805:.








It didn't make sense. Why…why wasn't he coming back?




Time froze, and Remus stopped breathing.




It had been a duel, that's all – Sirius had been in hundreds before. How had he fallen? How

A punch to the stomach – he wanted to wretch – his eyes wide, terrified, his horror ready to overflow. No, Sirius had not just done this to him, he had not just abandoned him again and left him alone, not after it took so long to find him again!




Hold on, hold on to the ones you love…




When he had heard about what happened from Snape, Sirius was furious; it took everything he had to keep Sirius from simply bolting down to the Ministry and getting himself arrested.

As they waited, Sirius paced, and Remus watched him, his hand on his forehead, worry etched on his features.




Stand up, Sirius, stand up, you just fell, you just –




When they arrived, Sirius and Remus had been first in line, their senses keen and sharp, hunting the burning odor of spells like predators, moths to a flame. Sirius had even transformed in an effort to find them faster. Sirius was always foolhardy when it came to defending those he cared about.




Sirius, stop being stupid, just get up, just get upplease




He would have loved to stop and watch Sirius duel – he was always so good at it, amazingly fast and graceful to boot. He didn't, though. Bellatrix and Malfoy were there, Dolohov, Avery – he had to keep them away from Sirius, especially the relatives. They would do anything, stop at nothing to get back at him.




Padfoot…Padfoot, please




When Tonks fell – the poor child, fighting her aunt, her mother's sister – Remus stepped forward, wand at the ready, but Sirius beat him to it. He wished he hadn't.

Decades of fury, of denial and betrayal and hate and pain poured out of Sirius – they dueled like royalty, their chins set high and identical looks of steely determination in their eyes. Neither of them was going to back down until the other was dead.




Harry was struggling in his arms, screaming, screaming, screaming the words he so wished to scream, to tear out of his chest and throat and bellow in anguish –




It didn't make sense. What color was the spell? Remus couldn't remember. All he could remember was the look on Sirius's face as he fell, the memory of who he used to be echoing in the wolf's mind –




Scream, scream - if Harry can, surely you have the right. Kill her, kill her, kill her for killing Sirius, for killing you, for stealing from you the last shred of hope you had to hold on to, for stealing him, him, himshe deserved to die, not him, definitely not him, just kill her, kill her, or better yet bite her, just wait for the right moment and put her through hell –

No, Harry couldn't fall apart, he wouldn't fall apart, Sirius wouldn't want that, they were still in danger, could still get hurt. He had to remain calm. He couldn't lose Harry – or himself - not now, not after losing Sirius.




Why, why had Harry listened to the dream, had Snape stopped the lessons, had Harry seen the memory, had Sirius said he was bored…

Would things be different if he had stopped them?




Hold on, hold on to the ones you love…




It's hard to hold on when your world just shattered.




Then again, Sirius was never one to think things through.