Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any characters affiliated with the series, and although a crossover character is mentioned I don't own Sherlock BBC or Supernatural either.
James felt his hands shaking as he neared the graves. His thoughts were scattered, thrown all over the place in the mess that was his head. He hated cemeteries; he hated them and what they represented with a fiery passion. Simply walking through one gave him chills, and when he walked through one with a reason, like he was now, it was ten times worse.
But he had to check. He had to see it for himself. So he continued on, hands shaking in the pockets of his jacket as he searched for the graves set aside for the worldborns. He found them, a total of four with names on them. There was Allard, and then a Gideon, and a Riley, and for a second there he thought that he was in the clear. But then he read the name on the fourth, and he wasn't sure if his heart shattered in his chest before it sunk into his stomach or after. It read Zariah.
He fell to his knees before he could prevent himself from doing so. His hands slipped out of his pockets just in time to catch himself, but as soon as he felt the freshly dug dirt under his palms they started shaking even harder. His breaths came out in shaky, uneven exhales. Tears stung his eyes almost as soon as he shut them to try and get the image of the headstone out of his mind. Soon after a broken sob escaped his lips, his hands balling into fists as he started to break down with no clear idea as to when he'd be able to calm down. All he knew at that moment was the hurt, was the heartbreak that came along with the sudden realization that Natasha hadn't lied to him.
Zariah was gone, and there was nothing he could do to change that.