Disclaimer: No matter how much I wish to do so, I do not own Harry Potter or any of JKR's characters.
Authors Note: So apparently all I am capable of writing is angst. And this story is dedicated to my sister.
To Sirius, it mostly seemed he had never aged past twenty-two, as if he were Peter Pan and had spent the last twelve years in some sort of wretched Neverland. It seemed as if one day in 1981 he had been thrown into this new, strange world where James and Lily were dead, where Peter was a Death Eater, and where Remus's hair had suddenly become more gray than brown. But it wasn't 1981, it was 1996, now, and even after almost three years out of Azkaban he still felt the shock, like being pushed into a swimming pool so cold that it sucked all of the air out of his lungs.
The fact that Ginny was just like Lily didn't make it any easier for Sirius to adjust. It was small things—the way she pulled her red hair back with long, slim fingers, the way she crossed her legs as she sat, the way her smile was just the slightest bit crooked. Ginny, Sirius thought, was just like Lily in the smallest ways. He tried to avoid staring at her, because God knew Molly already seemed to dislike him enough, and staring at her fourteen-year old daughter like some sort of pedophile wouldn't have helped matters. But it was hard sometimes, especially when they were all together, when Harry was sitting opposite him looking so much like James that it sometimes hurt to breathe, when Remus was reading a boring book on the couch next to Sirius, same as he had always done, and when Lily's—Ginny's—hair caught the firelight and lit up like a phoenix. They were like living ghosts, all of them, even Remus. The only thing missing was Peter, but after twelve years sitting in Azkaban, Sirius hardly minded.
Harry stared at Ginny too, although Sirius was sure he wasn't doing it consciously. There was something utterly unintentional and innocent about the way Harry would look at her for just moments longer than was absolutely necessary, before turning away and giving his attention to something else. It reminded him forcefully of the way Lily had sometimes watched James, before she had wanted to admit that maybe, maybe she was beginning to like him back. In some ways, Harry was much more like Lily than like James.
Sirius called Ginny "Lily" a few times, always by accident, usually while Harry and Remus were present. He would correct himself automatically, but never before Harry and Ginny had time to exchanged worried glances, and never before Remus squeezed Sirius's shoulder so tightly that it left bruises.
Ginny and Sirius only ever spoke of it once, on the last night of her Christmas holiday, in the kitchen in the earliest hours of the morning when everything looked creepy and twisted in the darkness. Sirius hated that time of day, because it reminded him too much of himself. But he couldn't sleep, so he went downstairs to make himself a cup of tea, and maybe one for Remus too, to mollify him when Sirius woke him up to talk. Ginny was already sitting at the table, with a mug of milk.
"Aren't you up a bit early?" asked Sirius. She jumped, and Sirius realized what he must look like, a sunken-faced, half-wild man, lurking out of the shadows in the early hours of the morning. He looked away, walked past her to reach for the kettle. "Sorry."
"It's okay," she said. She took a sip of her milk. "I couldn't sleep anymore. What about you?"
"I couldn't sleep either," said Sirius, keeping his back turned to her while he filled the kettle and settled it to heat.
"Do I really look much like her, Sirius?" she said abruptly. Then, when Sirius was silent for several long moments, she said, carefully, as if the word might break in her mouth, "Lily?"
There was another long silence, until Sirius said, hoarsely, "Yeah." He cleared his throat. "Sometimes."
She didn't say anything, but she watched him intently, waiting for him to continue. Sirius removed the kettle from the stove and left the kitchen without a word. He felt like a coward, not telling Ginny anything, but maybe one day…one day when he didn't hurt so much, he'd be able to tell her everything.
It was a pity, really, that he never got the chance.
I hope you enjoyed the story. Reviews make me deliriously happy, but please be kind with the criticism. Thanks for reading!