Hi everyone, this is a one-shot about Harry mourning his Godfather. In this, I'm assuming that Sirius and Harry managed to spend more time together at Grimmauld than in cannon and that they sent each other letters regularly. I do not own Harry Potter.

I also just wanted to respond to everyone that said that some of my stories are over the top – you are completely right. But seeing as I really only write when sad, depressed, or angry that tends to happen. That's why most stories, well actually all, are very sad and depressing. I will tone it down though in the future.

Harry looked up at the stars over his head. He had left the safety of the castle that night in an attempt to clear his head. With Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, and Ginny in the Hospital Wing, he had no one to lean on; the parents of his friends had asked for some alone time with their children. Harry understood of course, their children had almost died. Sirius had died. It hurt so much, like fire in his veins, like a never ending heart attack, like an emptiness inside of him that he just couldn't fill.

Yet, there was Sirius, shining brightly in the sky. Why hadn't the stars gone out when such a beautiful life had vanished? They seemed to shine on almost mocking him. Hadn't he suffered enough? Hadn't he lost enough people? Sirius. Oh, Sirius. The one person who had seemed to care for Harry simply because he was Harry.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley cared for Harry because he was friends with their children. Hermione cared for Harry because a) he had saved her life and b) he needed her brains and she wanted to feel needed. Ron was friends with Harry because Harry was the Boy-Who-Lived and so he could not be in hs brothers's shadows. Ginny was friends with him because of her fan girl crush – though that had thinned a little. Luna and Neville, Harry didn't really know them; they were simply people he kinda knew from Dumbledore's Army. They were friends who he trusted and loved, but they all were friends with him for reasons other than that he was just Harry. And Remus? He was a figure who drifted in and out of Harry's life. Remus never stayed for long and Harry couldn't count on him when it mattered.

Sirius. The one person who loved Harry no matter what. Sure, he had been more bent on revenge at first, but as time went on and they had exchanged letters, the mandatory love that Sirius felt for James's Spawn had turned to genuine love for Harry. Just Harry. Even if Harry hadn't been the boy who lived, or the boy who couldn't die, or the boy who attracted trouble like happiness and love attracted dementors – Sirius would have loved him.

Harry looked down at the photograph in his hand. Before going back to school for Christmas, Sirius had given Harry several photographs from when he was a baby. His favorite was at the hospital with Sirius holding him. Sirius was looking at Harry with a look of pure love and joy on his face before hugging baby Harry to his chest gently while whispering words to the baby. That pure, unadulterated love was something that Harry wished more than ever, he still had. He had lost it. He slipped the photograph into his moleskin pouch that he had taken to wearing everywhere. He would never forget the few times he had been able to be with Sirius – they were his stars in his dark life.

Harry lay down on the earth and watched the stars until he slowly drifted off to sleep watched over by the stars of Sirius.