Alone, you stand in his old bedroom, not believing he is gone. Buckbeak is pawing at the floorboards above your head and the sound annoys you more than it should, the creature would never understand your grief.
Clambering over the mess he has left, you make your way over to his bed, sit down, and scan the room. Dust covers the dresser where his robes are hanging haphazardly over the edges of the drawers, his appearance was of utmost importance to him back at Hogwarts, but Azkaban and the loss of his best friend changed that.
Even then you still saw his beauty.
Friends, that's what you were. Great friends; the best. He knew, of course, you both did, knew that there was something more and unspoken between you. It was there in his looks when he caught you staring as he laughed his carefree laugh. Just a look as if he was saying to you, 'I know'.Knowing was never enough for you, nor for him, but neither of you ever acted upon your feelings.
"Love," he always said, "love is for fools, and I, Sirius Black, am not a fool."
Many girls had been fools for him, had their hearts broken by him. No heart had been more broken than yours, and none as often. Of course, he knew what each new fling did to you, but that didn't stop him flaunting each witch he dated right before your eyes. Poor Remus, he would whisper to you in your dreams, poor Remus will never hold Sirius the way he so desperately wanted to.
Quietly you suffered, though you knew he was suffering too, but your friendship would suffer more should you ever act on the feelings.
Real suffering came when you discovered what he had done, what you thought he had done to James and Lily for thirteen years. Still you loved him, you would love him no matter what, and that is when you knew he had been right: love is for fools.
Then came the night that you would never forget; when you were reunited in the dusty Shrieking Shack you had spent so long in as boys. Undeniable love and relief threatened to drown you as he embraced you, and you mentally chastised yourself for ever doubting the man in your arms.
'Voldemort's most loyal servant has ensured he will never be in your arms again,' the cruel voice in your head tells you, and you are pulled from your memories back to his untidy bedroom. What good is it doing you to sit here when he is gone beyond the veil never to return?
Xenophilius Lovegood had once tried to convince you that the dead never left; they were transported to a universe parallel to the one of the living. You remember laughing at the time, and thinking the idea was preposterous.
"Zonkos," Sirius once told you, "if there is a heaven, I hope it's exactly like Zonkos."
And you hoped it was too.
A/N- This story was written for two challenges at HPFF dot com, the alphebetized challenge, so every sentence starts with the next letter of the alphabet an it is also exactly 500 words, for the every word counts challenge.
