Title: Truth within a lonely heart
Author: Hepzheba
Rating: T/PG-13
Disclaimer: Don't own any of the Harry Potter-characters, just borrow them and play with them every now and then.
Summary: Some angsty thinking is done by our dear Severus after Sirius' death. Contains m/m-relationships and tears.
A/N: The poem in the end is written by me and me alone. Steal it and I'll get my mistress to write erotic slashfics about you and Voldemort.
Sirius Black is dead. He's dead… I'd like to say that I'm happy for it. But I'm not. I've already cried for hours. Cried like a little child. I still can't believe that he is dead. It's like my brain don't want to get it. I know he is, but still I see him in everything I do. I guess I actually hated him, as I told him in our school time. But he hated me as well. Who didn't? But the thing is that I didn't hate him for the same reason as he hated me. He hated me because I wanted to know what he and his friends were up to, for being mean to him and his friends. I hated him for being beautiful and funny and wonderful. It was not envy, never envy. I hated him for making me fall in love with him. I tried to ignore the feeling for about four years. But at the same time I knew that I never would love somebody else. And I knew that he would never love someone else than that other boy. His best friend. The only one he had left after James Potter's dead and Peter Pettigrew's treachery.
I guess I'm the reason for Peter being with Voldemort. Peter did everything I asked him too. He loved me. I guess I was happy about that, but in the same time I felt guilty for using him, telling him that I loved him, when I actually imagined Sirius' face. But that hurt me too, knowing that at the same time as I and Peter lay with arms around each other, Sirius could do the same thing with his boyfriend. Knowing that Sirius could whisper the same things in Remus Lupin's ear, meaning them.
I found out about the relationship between Sirius and Remus in our sixth year. I was walking around in the castle, thinking about Sirius as so many other times. Peter lay sleeping in a bed in one of the secret rooms we had found. He was quite good, Peter. But he wasn't Sirius, even though I tried to pretend that he was; his hands could never be so secure as I imagined that Sirius' was, his eyes could never get grey nor could his hair get black.
I went to another secret room I knew about, I had not expected anyone to be there. But they were. Sirius and Remus. Naked, rubbing bodies close to each other, moaning, groaning, kissing, caressing. I wanted to leave, run away from the room, but I didn't. I stood still in the shadows were they couldn't see me, watching them make love to each other. At last they came and lay still. The paralyse let go of its grasp around my body and I was just about to leave when Sirius opened his mouth and whispered the three words I really didn't want him to say to anyone except me. I left.
A knock on my door make me jump. I quickly pull out my wand and throw a cleaning spell in my face so it won't show that I've been crying.
"Come in" I say, hoping that it will sound as hateful as I use to sound.
The door opens and Remus Lupin comes in. His face is even paler. What is he doing here?
"Good day, Severus. I wondered if I could get my potion" he says, his voice is more hoarse than usual.
He's been crying. Well, of course he has. Sirius was his lover and best friend. I quickly get his wolf bane-potion, wanting him to leave, I wouldn't like to cry in front of him, but I feel the tears coming closer.
"Thanks" he said and turns around, as though he is on his way to leave.
He stops with one hand on the handle.
"I'm sorry that you and Sirius hated each other" he says and I can tell that he is crying.
I nod, a silent tear running down my pale cheek.
"Me too" I say.
Remus leaves and I let go of the tears, they runs down my cheeks, wetting the papers on my desk. My heart hurt, my eyes hurt, my whole body hurt. But still, I don't know if I want him to be alive again. He would never love me. I think that it's that thought that hurt me most. That he never even thought about loving me. But still I love him and always will.
The fact that hurt you most
Is not the fact that he's dead,
Even though it tears you apart,
But the fact that you loved him
And never told him so.