"None of you knew Sirius like I felt I did," Harry began; cold, stoic and
apathetic. "Even though many of you knew him longer than I." He smoothed
down his black dress jacket, which, this once, he favored over robes. He
looked around at his audience; small, but all smartly paying attention to
what Harry was saying. He took a breath.
"To be honest, I knew Sirius for a mere two years. But I felt more connected to him than to –" He paused, thinking of his scar and of Voldemort, but shook it off quickly. "– anyone. He was the only real connection to my family that I had – the only person I really considered family. He and I understood each other in a weird kind of way. Both of us had so long felt alone, felt trapped, and we helped each other through that."
Harry glanced around the room at his godfather's assorted friends and family. There really weren't that many people, and that saddened him. Of course, what with his godfather's status as a convict, not many people would want to be seen at his funeral, but the people here were all good people. They all knew the absolute truth. To Harry, that was all that mattered.
"We each have our own prisons, be they as real as Azkaban or as imaginary as anything our minds can come up with,. Sirius had both of these prisons. Azkaban kept his body, but his own tortuous thoughts were the prison of his soul."
He stopped, thinking of the godfather he'd barely had the chance to know and the friends he hadn't known his godfather had had. The first row of chairs held the entire Weasley family, from Arthur and Molly all the way down to Ginny. Molly was twisting a handkerchief in her hands, stopping only to dab at her eyes. Percy, who had come crawling back to his family after the fight at the Ministry, sat stoically by his parents. Bill sat by Charlie, who held his head in his hands, and Ginny... there were tears falling from her eyes, rolling down her face, but she made no sound. Ron's eyes were red, but he had steeled himself against crying. Even so, tears brimmed against his eyelids, and he blinked furiously to rid himself of them. Ron had an arm against Hermione, who sobbed quietly into his shoulder. Even the normally hyperactive twins were silent, remembering the fallen man.
"All of you know as well as I do that Sirius was no more the cause of my parents' deaths than I am. But try telling that to Sirius." Harry paused as a small, weak chuckle worked its way through the gathered people. "He had told me several times that it was his fault and wouldn't hear any differently. 'If I hadn't convinced them to use Pettigrew,' he'd say. 'If I had only done it myself.'" Harry closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "Well, Sirius, I hope you can hear me, wherever you are. I'm glad you chose Pettigrew for the job."
A gasp went up from the crowd. People began murmuring softly to one another, wondering what the dark-haired teen could mean. All of the Hogwarts professors who knew – the sadly small group of Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape – were present, wondering what their famed pupil was up to. Harry glanced at Remus Lupin, who was looking grayer and more haggard than usual. He had a comforting arm around Nymphadora Tonks, who sat sandwiched between her mother and Remus. The rest of the Order of the Phoenix sat around them.
"Let me explain, please." The hall quieted.
"Pettigrew betrayed my family in the worst way possible, but in a perverse way, he saved the world. Think on it," Harry said. Not a sound was heard from the group. "Without him, Voldemort –" the group flinched "– never would have cursed my parents. Without him, my mother never would have died to save me, and without him, Voldemort would never have cursed me."
The silence was deafening. "Don't you see?" Harry's voice, small and insecure, pierced the sad silence. He waited a moment; then, gathering his courage, strongly pushed forward.
"Voldemort would have been active for the past fourteen years if Pettigrew hadn't betrayed my parents," Harry said softly. "That monster was as much a part of the downfall of his precious master as my parents were." His voice dropped even lower. He could barely be heard as he said, "As much as I was."
Harry felt the lump rise in his throat. He knew that he was going to begin crying soon, and realized that he should probably end this before e made a spectacle of himself.
"I'm glad you picked Pettigrew, Sirius," Harry said, sotto voce. "If you hadn't, Voldemort would've killed you years ago. If you had kept the job – " Harry swallowed a sob and closed his eyes tightly. "I would never have known the bravest wizard in the world."
Harry walked away from the podium, finally letting his tears free.
"To be honest, I knew Sirius for a mere two years. But I felt more connected to him than to –" He paused, thinking of his scar and of Voldemort, but shook it off quickly. "– anyone. He was the only real connection to my family that I had – the only person I really considered family. He and I understood each other in a weird kind of way. Both of us had so long felt alone, felt trapped, and we helped each other through that."
Harry glanced around the room at his godfather's assorted friends and family. There really weren't that many people, and that saddened him. Of course, what with his godfather's status as a convict, not many people would want to be seen at his funeral, but the people here were all good people. They all knew the absolute truth. To Harry, that was all that mattered.
"We each have our own prisons, be they as real as Azkaban or as imaginary as anything our minds can come up with,. Sirius had both of these prisons. Azkaban kept his body, but his own tortuous thoughts were the prison of his soul."
He stopped, thinking of the godfather he'd barely had the chance to know and the friends he hadn't known his godfather had had. The first row of chairs held the entire Weasley family, from Arthur and Molly all the way down to Ginny. Molly was twisting a handkerchief in her hands, stopping only to dab at her eyes. Percy, who had come crawling back to his family after the fight at the Ministry, sat stoically by his parents. Bill sat by Charlie, who held his head in his hands, and Ginny... there were tears falling from her eyes, rolling down her face, but she made no sound. Ron's eyes were red, but he had steeled himself against crying. Even so, tears brimmed against his eyelids, and he blinked furiously to rid himself of them. Ron had an arm against Hermione, who sobbed quietly into his shoulder. Even the normally hyperactive twins were silent, remembering the fallen man.
"All of you know as well as I do that Sirius was no more the cause of my parents' deaths than I am. But try telling that to Sirius." Harry paused as a small, weak chuckle worked its way through the gathered people. "He had told me several times that it was his fault and wouldn't hear any differently. 'If I hadn't convinced them to use Pettigrew,' he'd say. 'If I had only done it myself.'" Harry closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "Well, Sirius, I hope you can hear me, wherever you are. I'm glad you chose Pettigrew for the job."
A gasp went up from the crowd. People began murmuring softly to one another, wondering what the dark-haired teen could mean. All of the Hogwarts professors who knew – the sadly small group of Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape – were present, wondering what their famed pupil was up to. Harry glanced at Remus Lupin, who was looking grayer and more haggard than usual. He had a comforting arm around Nymphadora Tonks, who sat sandwiched between her mother and Remus. The rest of the Order of the Phoenix sat around them.
"Let me explain, please." The hall quieted.
"Pettigrew betrayed my family in the worst way possible, but in a perverse way, he saved the world. Think on it," Harry said. Not a sound was heard from the group. "Without him, Voldemort –" the group flinched "– never would have cursed my parents. Without him, my mother never would have died to save me, and without him, Voldemort would never have cursed me."
The silence was deafening. "Don't you see?" Harry's voice, small and insecure, pierced the sad silence. He waited a moment; then, gathering his courage, strongly pushed forward.
"Voldemort would have been active for the past fourteen years if Pettigrew hadn't betrayed my parents," Harry said softly. "That monster was as much a part of the downfall of his precious master as my parents were." His voice dropped even lower. He could barely be heard as he said, "As much as I was."
Harry felt the lump rise in his throat. He knew that he was going to begin crying soon, and realized that he should probably end this before e made a spectacle of himself.
"I'm glad you picked Pettigrew, Sirius," Harry said, sotto voce. "If you hadn't, Voldemort would've killed you years ago. If you had kept the job – " Harry swallowed a sob and closed his eyes tightly. "I would never have known the bravest wizard in the world."
Harry walked away from the podium, finally letting his tears free.