I'm back again to terrorize the HP section with my horrible writing! This is a little cookie I wrote while angsting over Sirius's death, I didn't put much effort into it.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I'm not JK Rowling in disguise. I don't wish I was either; so many people would hate me /cries/
Sirius Black had always had an intense liking of muggle music.
He supposed there were many reasons. As the black sheep of the Black family, it was just on way he could rebel right under his parent's noses. After all, they didn't know the difference between muggle and magical rock 'n' roll-they hated it all equally.
He had also once heard that scarcity of an object made it all the more desirable. Perhaps that was what had attracted him to muggle ways of living. It was certainly true when he went to Azkaban-he passed the time by sitting in the corner, singing songs under his breath.
Muggle music was, perhaps, the non-magical folk's way of making magic. When all else was gone, you could always stomp a beat and hum a tune. You could pour your soul our to music, let it wrap you up and carry you off to wherever you wanted to be.
It was certainly nothing like love. Love was like someone blindfolding you, taking you somewhere, and telling you to let yourself fall backwards, even if you couldn't hear the voice behind you. There were those who'd catch you, those who'd lower you to the ground, those who'd let you fall, and those who'd laugh as you hit the bottom of the cliff. And, of course, those who had disappeared before they could catch you.
No, love was certainly nothing like music. But, even so… music reminded him of so many things. Of Peter. Of James. Remus.
Hogwarts, and Quidditch, and lazy summer days with no restrictions at all. Of prankings and rule breakings, and merriment all around.
Such things were no longer available to Sirius Black. The handsome, rebellious young teen was gone; in his place was a man with a past that didn't matter and absolutely no future either, who was forced to curl up on his cot and sing snippets of dark songs in hoarse whisper-voices.
Perhaps his favorite was the Ballad of the Moon(1). He had long forgotten it, of course; Azkaban did that to a wizard. But it had been the one he belted out on top of the Gryffindor breakfast table that one time….what he had been tapping his foot to when James first stumbled into his car on the train to Hogwarts….
It had been his declaration of love to Remus.
Oh yes, he remembered that vividly…Remus had stuttered and nearly fallen over…he couldn't recall whether or not Moony had accepted his love though. It didn't matter anymore, because Remus would never believe he was innocent. He had muttered it, the one time Moony had came to visit him, the day after he had been imprisoned.
"I love you, Moony. Do you remember our song?" Remus had just looked at him and walked away.
It was then he had stopped caring.
Sirius Black looked up at the moon he had chalked on the grimy, graffitied wall in between the picture of a snitch and a rat. No, music was certainly nothing like love. Love had left him forever, but the music would always be there to realize his sadness.
It took him a moment to find his disused, almost forgotten voice. But it came, if a little shaky and hesitant.
"Don't waste your time on me, you're already a voice inside my head(2)…."
Blarg. I don't really like this piece, it seems really choppy to me.
(1)So far as I know, there is no Ballad of the Moon. I just probably haven't heard of it.
(2)This is a line from I Miss You. I don't own this either.
So, read and review(or flame, whatever happens to be your cup of tea) if you have the time, I'd love to hear from ya'll.