Gone.
He was gone.
His godfather was gone.
Sirius had left him.
As the tears rolled down his cheeks Harry wondered why he had expected Sirius to be any different, after all everyone left him at some point:
His Mum and Dad, unwilling as they were.
The Dursley's - his Family - left him regularly.
The few friends he had as a child, left as soon as they heard the stories the Dursley's told.
Ron had left him - temporarily, but still - in 4th year.
Cedric had left him on that cursed day in the graveyard, just as they were starting to become friends.
Even Hermione had left him for that brief time in 2nd year after being petrified.
As he looked back, he wondered why he still cared, after all that time you would think that he would have learned his lesson, but apparently not.
Once again he had foolishly opened his heart and let someone in.
Someone who had no preconceptions of who he should be.
Someone who welcomed him in, arms wide open.
Someone who had loved him unconditionally - no strings attached - just as he was.
Someone who had given up their life for him.
In that split second Harry hated Sirius for leaving him, before the tears began anew, cascading down his face, blurring his vision.
But as he pictured Sirius's face he remembered what he loved most about the man, his beloved Dog-father; he remembered his smile, bright and cheery; the gray-blue eyes that seemed to lighten every time he looked at Harry; and the way Sirius would hold him, making him feel so safe and protected and loved.
He remembered the man who happily sung the badly of tune Christmas carols and the man who had braved 12 years of Azkaban, yet still retained that inner goodness that so few seemed to posses.
As he wiped the tears from his face Harry remembered Luna's words, and smiled, after all it wasn't as if he would never see Sirius again; but until that day he would fight, fight for those who couldn't, fight for what's right, but most importantly fight for those he loved, for Sirius.