Years:
Half. Crescent. Full. Years one through eleven.
Starlight, starbright, first star I see tonight.
Alone again. Another scar.
I wish I may. I wish I might.
Stop the pain I feel each night.
First day of the ninth month,
Halfway through my eleventh year.
Three friends found. They know the truth.
They don't leave me. I don't get scars.
Four friends. Four marauders.
Seven years, I laugh and prank.
Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs. Always by my side.
A war was coming, we got ready to fight.
The Flower then joined our group.
Prongslet rounds out our family.
Then that night. That horrid night.
The last day of the tenth month.
Three were killed by actions of the fourth.
Two were left. Separated. Alone.
The moon was full that night.
Twelve years I spent alone.
Away from my cub. Away from home.
Then on that train. First day. Eighth month.
I finally protect my last remaining kin.
There's no recollection in those young green orbs.
It breaks my heart to see his face.
So much like his parents, he is.
He should have grown up in a happy home.
He should have called me 'Uncle'.
Neither happened. My heart breaks more.
The year was over. The truth was found.
Padfoot was innocent. My guilt, crushing.
My cub was so excited.
He had a godfather now. There was no need for me.
He didn't need his uncle now.
Three years went by. I saw him some.
He grew up fast. He grew up strong.
My little cub wasn't so little no more.
I fought for him and his godson, my child.
As my eyes close at last, the pain is gone.
Nineteen years you live in happiness.
No pain from your scar.
You smile all of the time, my cub.
I'm so very proud of you.
So very proud indeed.
He's nineteen now, that son of mine.
That boy, who've you raised yourself.
You've done well, he's strong.
He's happy. He's loved.
I'm grateful my cub, I miss you.