It was strange to think that the small orb of swirling silver lying in the palm of my hand held the reason that I was even there. Why my parents had been forced to surrender their lives. Why I had survived and lived the legacy I am still living today. Why numerous amounts of innocent people had had their lives taken by the merciless hands of Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters.
I remember, looking back, how the prophecy had been smooth and cold in my hand. It had been full of a strange, gas like substance that swirled within its confined space, creating intriguing patterns that didn't mean anything.
I don't recall the whole event fully. I remember clips of it; moments of terror, of my friends and enemies being fought, hurt, even tortured. I remember the feeling of helplessness.
Until I battled Lucius Malfoy alongside Sirius.
I miss him.
I will never stop missing him.
If it had not been for my stupidity, he would still be here.
Or maybe, it was the prophecy's fault.
Again, this ball seemed to hold more power than most people realised. The sphere itself was not dangerous. What was dangerous was the things people would do to know the secrets it held. The untold stories it kept locked inside its small self.
Voldemort went too far. And maybe, so did I.
Because of him and his greed, I lost the final chance I had at a real life, with my real family.
And I will never stop feeling this pain, and never stop reliving that moment in my dreams, wishing that I could go back and change what happened that day.
Wishing that I could go back and bring him home with me.
I miss you Sirius.
I always will.
I promise.