For you, my friend.
Let It Be
The town was silent, and the air full of undisturbed mist that clung to everything like a chilling blanket. The eerie shadows were thrown around by the muggle streetlamps and a small figure slipped in and out of the light like a dark ghost. Its padded feet, four in total, made no sound as they pattered along the damp walkway, avoiding puddles and shivering despite the thickness of its coat, which was jet black and matted.
As the dog approached the end of the last street, it stopped. It looked sad as it gazed at what would appear to many to be a patch of emptiness beside number 21. But it wasn't. He stared with dark grey eyes – so unusual for a dog – at a ruined house. Most of all the walls had crumbled, and the door was still half hanging off. The dog nudged the creaking gate open with nostalgic familiarity, though it had been years since he had been here. He could still remember the last time...he could still feel the knot in his chest that his last ever visit had created.
He stood in the doorway, unable to tear his gaze from the patch on the floor where debris had not collapsed; mainly because at a time, there had been something obstructing it: a body. The dog that answered to many names, Padfoot, Snuffles, Sirius…lay down on the patch of ground where he had once held his best friend's lifeless form. Human tears glittered in canine eyes and slipped down the hound's muzzle. He sniffed the ground, hoping to catch a last, impossible breath of a scent. Nothing.
There was nothing left to say that this was the exact spot where James Potter died, save the lonely dog, whining under its breath, pining for familiar arms to wrap around him and tell him it's all a dream. All he wanted was his brother back. He knew he'd have to go soon, he needed to find Harry. But he stayed a while longer, not venturing any further into the house. He curled up in the space where he recalled James' chest had been, and closed his eyes to the world; half wishing he would slip into perpetual sleep.
His wish was close to being granted. The cold intensified and he shivered in his sleep, but did not wake. The freezing air ate away at his very bones and as the life ebbed away from the prison escapee, the dog began to shudder. He awoke just in time.
Bleary eyed, the dog glanced around, trying to see what had disturbed his final sleep. He was sure he had heard something…
A noise, familiar and friendly, came from the window and the dog started at the sight of a beautiful, glossy barn owl. He peered through the enveloping darkness with keen, albeit sleepy, eyes. The owl had a letter tied to its foot, and it swooped down to him without another sound – silent, deadly, and magical.
Without warning, the dog's form melted until the shape of a man was stood in his place. The man was no cleaner or happy looking than the animal. His eyes were the exact same shade and shape – beautiful and pained. He reached down and stroked the bird. It reminded him so much of the sleek and powerful Hercules that had once belonged to James. He let his eyes roam to the letter, and with a jolt saw it was addressed to him in what was, in that moment, the most beautiful calligraphy he'd ever seen.
James'
With trembling hands he took it, not watching the bird take to the skies once more through the open door. The letter was light and written with a shaky hand. The font was as scruffy as James' writing had always been. Tears prickled Sirius' eyes and he wouldn't have moved for the world as he read the flowing words that James Potter had traced across this very page – though how, Sirius would never know.
Recall no rainy days.
Think only of the sun.
Let no sorrow halt you reckless ways.
Remember to laugh, and drink, and run.
Let no shadows cloud your once carefree mind.
Keep alive our dream.
Let the treacherous path of life wind.
Don't cry, don't mourn, don't regret, don't scream.
The fire is alive in you.
Never let it die.
I am beside you through and through.
Ask no questions, you know why.
Friendship richer than moonstones and gold.
You opened my eyes and allowed me to see.
Whilst you keep hope it shall never grow cold.
Just keep singing those songs: let it be, let it be.
The dog and the stag.
The horse and the hound.
Wave your cloak like a flag.
Stamp your feet on the ground.
And never forget while you live, so do I.
Think of not that I'm dead but that once, I was alive.
Let no tears fall please don't cry.
I am but one small person; one bee in the hive.
There will be others.
I can trust you to be brave.
We shall always be brothers.
Think of those around you, not those you could not save.
And keep me locked inside your heart.
Don't let my death stay painful and raw.
One day in the future we can go back to the start.
But until then and in the ever after, I am with you forevermore.
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am the thousand winds that blow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die.
Sirius Black held the letter, now stained with irremovable tears spots that spattered the parchment, heartbreak ripping his chest apart from the inside out. Something had broken inside of him, whether it was his heart or his soul, or something else he did not know. All he knew was that it hurt; that James was gone; that James knew…he knew.
"So let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be…there will be an answer, let it be…" Sirius murmured under his breath, singing the old muggle song that he and James had sang at the tops of their voices even during the darkest days.
"No James, you'll never die."
Dedicated to all lost friends.
Bonne nuit mon chéri, mon ange, mon ami. J'espère que vous êtes heureux, où que vous soyez. Je ne vous oublierai jamais.
Do not stand at my grave an weep…taken from the song 'Prayer' by Lizzie West. 'Let It Be' – the song by the Beatles.
xxx