Sirius
It hasn't been the same around here, since the Ministry. I know that Harry feels guilty, and that he's upset about Sirius dying. I mean, who wouldn't be? He's never really had anyone- he's got me and Hermione, but he hasn't had his parents for most of his life and the Dursely's are horrible. I don't know how he can live with those idiots. But when he found Sirius- or Sirius found him- he seemed happier. He had family. But now Sirius is gone, and Harry's blaming himself- again.
I don't know what to do. You can see him try to smile, and try to laugh. But it's all fake. You can see his eyes are empty, and at night, when he thinks I'm asleep, I can hear him crying. I always want to rip open the hangings around his bed and hug him, tell him that me and Hermione are his family, that mum loves him like another son. But I don't.
The thing is, Harry's been through a lot. His parents are dead, he's fought with You- Know- Who loads of times, and now his godfather is dead too. He saw Cedric Diggory die, and then battled with Voldemort. He had to put up with that cow Umbridge and everyone thinking that he was a nutter, with tall stories. Now, everyone knows he's right, but he can't appreciate it because Sirius is gone.
I can hear him now, the muffled noises against his pillow. I can picture him crying, his face scrunched up in pain. Then, I remember everything that Harry has done for me. Taking me back when I behaved like a bloody idiot in fourth year. Saving my sister from the Basilisk. Saving Dad. Being my friend. That's when I know. I owe Harry, for everything.
So, I slide out of bed, and cautiously tug on his hangings, pulling them aside slightly. I hear his intake of breath, as he rolls over and stares up at me, tears trickling down his face. At this point, I know that there's only one thing I can do- I hug him, and he suddenly clutches at my shoulders, and sobs into my pyjama top.
After a few minutes, he stops, and gazes up at me. "Sorry," he mutters abashedly, and I know that he feels ashamed at me knowing that he's upset.
"It's fine, Harry. Bloody hell, I'd be the same."
He smiles up at me, a weak one, but a genuine smile, and I smile back. Then, his smile droops.
"It wasn't your fault, Harry," I tell him, putting my hand on his shoulder. He nods, and I smile in victory. I know that he's still unhappy, and probably still guilty, but he seems better. I'm glad. He's my best friend, and I'm suddenly struck by how unfair it is, that he's been through so much. But he'll be fine in the end. We all will.
So, as I draw the hangings back around my bed, I feel a strange sense of approval. Something inside makes me think that perhaps Sirius is looking down and smiling at me, telling me that I did the right thing.
So, I close my eyes, and sleep.