Bridge to the Other Side
Sirius hadn't ventured into his old room since he had been back at Grimmauld Place; it contained so many memories of the years that he had been trapped in there by his Mother and Father during the school holidays with no contact with the world. As far as Sirius was concerned, he never wanted to set foot in his room again.
However, being alone in the house with nobody but Kreacher for company did make it boring for Sirius to just sit in various rooms of the house all day. He went from room to room, spending the minimum of five minutes in either one before he got bored and left, each time avoiding that one room with his name on the door. He avoided Regulus' room too; he didn't want to think about his little brother just yet.
But the most prominent reason that Sirius didn't want to go into his room was because of the pictures that decorated the walls; the pictures of himself and his friends, the banners of everything Gryffindor and all of those muggle photos that he had ripped out of a muggle magazine. But even Sirius knew that sooner or later he was going to have to go in there to stop Kreacher from cleaning everything out and that was exactly what had happened.
"Oi, Kreacher! Get away from there you filthy thing," Sirius roared at the elf as he tried to force entry into Sirius' room. Judging by the scratch marks on the door, he had been trying to get in for days now. Sirius felt slightly proud that his protective enchantments had held up after all this time.
Kreacher jumped at Sirius' voice and quickly gathered up his cleaning things and walked away, muttering to himself.
As soon as Kreacher had rounded the corner at the end of the corridor, Sirius found himself waving his wand at the door, muttering the enchantments that undid the protective spells he had set up just before his departure nearly nineteen years ago.
The door unlocked with a click and swung open about an inch, inviting Sirius in. He didn't want to go in, he shouldn't go in, but he wanted to go in. He was completely torn between going into his room and going back downstairs and trying to brighten up the dull house a little. Just for a minute, Sirius thought, I'll just go in there for a minute and before he knew what was happening, he had shut the door behind him.
It felt strange to be back in a room that looked like it so evidently didn't belong in the Black household. Sirius supposed that because he didn't feel like he belonged in the family, he had made his room as different as possible to the rest of the house so as to feel that he at least fitted in somewhere.
His eyes scanned the walls, looking at the pictures that he had stuck there with permanent sticking charms between the ages of fourteen and seventeen. Every picture included none other than James Potter, his best friend.
It hadn't really hit Sirius how much he missed James. He had never really been given time to mourn his friend as he was thrown into Azkaban just hours after the incident and he had locked it away in his brain for twelve years so that the Dementors couldn't use it as a weapon against him and of course, in his time since he had been out, he had been protecting his godson. Harry always seemed to be in some sort of trouble.
Just like James. Sirius thought. There wasn't a time that Sirius saw Harry that he didn't remind him of James and that was absolutely the only thing that he hated about Harry. He was a constant reminder of his failure as a best friend. He may not have performed the curse that killed Lily and James but he as good as killed them as soon as he had suggested handing over the role of secret keeper to that dirty traitor, Peter Pettigrew.
Hot anger flashed through him as he looked at Peter's smiling face in the photo that had been taken just after they had finished their fourth year and before he knew it, his wand was pointing at Peter's face and the word incendio about to pass his lips. Sirius sat there, fuming for a few seconds before realising what he was about to do. He lowered his wand quickly. He wasn't going to burn Peter's face off the pictures, he wasn't his mother.
His eyes landed on his bedside table where he could see a dusty old mirror; the same mirror that he and James had used while they were at Hogwarts in separate detentions all those years ago. The same mirror that he had given Harry.
He felt tears spring to his eyes as he realised if he ever used the mirror, it would seem as if he was talking to James again, when really he was talking to Harry. Sirius could never use that mirror again.
James had inhabited almost all of Sirius' life up until his death in 1981. He just wished that James could inhabit the rest of his life and be there to take care of his son because Harry didn't deserve to be sent to the Dursley's every summer to be mistreated and abused.
Sirius just wished that he could talk to James one more time. There were so many things that he would say to him. He would tell him about Harry and Remus, about the Order getting back together and fighting and most of all how very sorry he was for even suggesting that they use Peter as their secret keeper.
He would build a bridge to the other side, just so that he could spend a little time with his friend, just to hear James' voice one more time.
He picked up the mirror and said slowly and clearly, "James Potter."
There was nothing, the only thing that he could see was his reflection looking back at him, that same shaggy haired person that he had seen in the bathroom mirror not ten minutes ago. James was never coming back, no matter how hard Sirius tried to find ways of contacting him. James, Remus and Peter had been like his family through the good times and bad, and now there was only Remus left and even he didn't want to spend time with Sirius. Granted, he was a bit busy with the Order and keeping the peace and things like that, but Sirius had thought that he may have been able to spare a little time to sit with him and talk about James because no matter how brave a face Sirius put on when he saw Harry, he just about fell apart inside because of how much he looked like James.
The only thing that Sirius could do was weep. He had never been one to cry, all of those years in Azkaban had toughened him up, but there were some times when you just need to let it out and after fourteen long years, Sirius finally did.
AN: For:
The Fanfiction Tournaments Round 1 – write a story on Sirius Black
The Songfic Boot Camp – Prompt #24 – Family with the song Bridge to the Other Side by Oliver Boyd and the Remembralls.
The Wrock Competition – Song: Bridge to the Other Side by Oliver Boyd and the Remembralls.
The Chinese Moon Festival Competition : Separation Slice
I'd love it if you could leave me a review :)
Potter on
~The Original Horcrux~