Disclaimer: La di da di da, I don't own anything. Oh and the line mentioned in the authors note is from the book DogStar by Beverley Wood and Chris Wood, so credit to them for that.
I learned at a very young age that everything fades with time. No matter how much you want it not to, it still does. Memories fade, friendships, even scars.
The thousands of scars that cover my body from the monthly transformations get lighter and less noticeable everyday. The memory of the pain I feel when I become a werewolf seems to fade within a month's time, so when I transform again, I'm always surprised by how much it hurts.
Sadly, the memories of my friends fade as well once they've passed on. I can no longer remember the sound of James' laugh, nor what Lily's smile looked like. Photographs aren't enough. Just by looking at a picture of my lost friends, I can't remember the feeling I got when we were all sitting down at the lake in the sun, talking.
Stars fade as well. It's hard to believe that such an enormous flaming object can just be extinguished. And it's unnerving to realize that you aren't even aware of the star's death until thousands of years after it's happened. But I suppose that the fire that makes up a star is like any fire and must die out eventually.
However, there is one star that disregards such insignificant rules. The Dog Star, Sirius. It defies logic by burning long after stars born later then it have died. I think that, when people pass on, their spirits go up there, to the Dog Star. I can't imagine anything else that would keep it burning so bright and constant.
The star Sirius is much like my Sirius. Both disregard rules and astonish people with their abilities to live even when they aren't expected to. While everyone else in Azkaban slowly lost their minds, Sirius stayed strong and continued to let his soul burn as brightly as the Dog Star.
The strange thing is, I always thought Sirius would follow the lead of his star and live forever. A childish prediction obviously proved wrong by logic.
But I refuse to let Sirius' memory in my mind fade like all the others. I decided not long after his death when the memories and feelings were still fresh, that I would write them all down in a journal. That way, if I begin to forget something about him, I can just read the journal and I'll be reminded.
I have everything written down. How his laugh sounds like the bark of an excited dog, how his cheer is infectious, how I felt when I saw him for the first time in twelve years at the Shrieking Shack. I wrote down how he use to smell—not the smell of cooking sherry that polluted him throughout the last year of his life—but the musky smell that followed him all throughout school and even survived Azkaban.
I wrote down what we would do during the nights that I would become a werewolf—lasting memories that comfort me every month when I have to transform alone. I wrote down what made him laugh, what made him cry, and things he would say that made me do the same.
Sirius made me understand something in the years that he was alive and the growing years since his death. He caused me to realize that although memories and stars and scars all fade with time, love never does.
Finished. Just a one-shot. Not really sure I'm happy with it, but there you are. The line "I think that, when people pass on, their spirits go up there, to the Dog Star. I can't imagine anything else that would keep it burning so bright and constant," is basically taken from the book DogStar.