None of it, with the exception of Zairah, is mine, blah blah blah blah blah. Please review--I love reader input.
From the journal of Z. Donovan:
He is dead. What pain it is to put those words on paper. Words which should never have to be written. Dumbledore gave me the news this morning. He told me that Sirius died painlessly, fighting as he wanted. I didn't speak to him, but let his voice spread through my veins like a venom. I felt as though every piece of my body was being torn apart and I screamed inwardly for release. I am still screaming. I do not believe that I ever told him that I loved him. A mistake I shall never forget, for it already haunts me so I cannot think without realizing it. He is dead. Sirius is gone. They say that when someone dies you feel closer to them than ever. But he is so far and I am so cold.
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It has been a week since the passing of my beloved. I have thought of a million things I wished to say to him. I loved him....did he ever know that? I still wear the ring he gave me, I never take it off and none shall replace it. I never told him that. He will never hear it. Fate has had its laugh, will it not let us be? I am starving-I haven't eaten since the day after his death. Perhaps if I die too I will see him again.
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An unsent letter by S. Black:
My Dearest Zairah,
I need a place to write all that I feel, for I feel too much to contain it in my mind. I am in hiding right now. I have met and talked with our godson. If you could only see him now! He is the exact replica of his father. Yet he has Lily's eyes, that you can imagine. I pray you have forgotten me, that is why this letter will never reach you. I want only for you to have the life you've always wanted and my memory should never hold you down. I still love you, though I wish I didn't. Indeed, we were both reluctant to acknowledge our affection. I bless and curse the day I met you. I never thought I'd love and I daresay I never wanted to. Yet you captivated me. Your fiery manner and mocking laugh, the way your eyes lit up when you were joyous. But whenever I confessed my devotion, all you ever did was smile knowingly. I do not recall you ever telling me you loved me. I felt it though, through your reluctance to return my feelings, you did love me. That was all I wanted, Zairah. I know you cared for me. If I were to die knowing that, I'd die happy.