Gone Too Soon

...

The hour of departure has arrived and we go our ways; I to die, and you to live. Which is better? Only God knows.

-Socrates.

...

The roaring sound of a motorbike ripped the silence in the small West Country village where the murder had just taken place. The air stunk to death and misery, although no-one in the village seemed to notice. The roaring sound died out until the motorbike came to a stop. Its driver hopped off, not aware of the loud thunk! echoing around the street as his prized vehicle dropped to one side. He did not care about it right then, his prized muggle Harley-Davidson that one of his best friends had enchanted to make it a flying vehicle. Al he felt was the numbness inside him, and the echo inside his brain, which seemed about to burst with anxiousness.

Don't let them be dead, don't let them be dead.

He came to a halt as he saw the mountain of boulders and pieces of broken bricks in the place where the Potter Cottage once stood. Debris was spread everywhere, he could see a number of toddler toys – a small stuffed dog he himself had given his little godson when he last came to visit laid half-torn under a wooden plank.

As he shuffled closer, feeling blood pumping in his ears, he saw it. A long, red mane of hair, lying right next to much shorter – and messier – black locks. Sirius pressed his eyes close for a second and felt how numbness filled his body as he realized those two lying bodies had once been his best friends. He, his brother in everything but blood, and she, the lovely woman he had grown to love as a sister in barely three years. Those two bodies were James and Lily Potter's. There they laid, sprawled, cold, numb and lifeless. Completely and utterly dead.

And it was all Sirius's fault.

James and Lily did not deserve to die. They were young, brave and had a lot to live. They had been together for such a little time – Sirius had always thought he would have to deal with their sickly sweet nicknames until the very last day of his life, and now he saw them there, lying completely lifeless. James had always been his best friend, a brother who had not hesitated to help him when Sirius needed it. He hadn't even managed to say goodbye to his brother. Lily had left thinking Sirius was mad and irresponsible for sending Harry a game of Exploding Snap. He had always thought he would be able to apologize on his next visit – little did he know he would find everything in such a state when he next visited the Potter Cottage.

He fell to his knees, filling the numbness inside him becoming bigger with every second that went by. He struggled against the tears willing to stream down his face, his eyes burning and his insides roaring with the feeling of emptiness that had overcome him ever since he had first seen them that night. They still wore surprised, oblivious faces, like they had suddenly dropped dead on the floor. He saw Lily's big, green eyes gleaming with the moonlight, and James's hazel eyes reflecting on his round-rimmed glasses.

With two shaky fingers, Sirius closed each pair of eyes, seeing the once joyful, expressive orbs, for the last time in his life. Their skins felt cold, but not as half as cold as Sirius's heart felt until he heard a loud shriek piercing the air around him.

Sirius had completely forgotten about his little godson, Harry James Potter.

Something inside Sirius seemed to warm his body. He had assumed Harry would be gone – Lord Voldemort must have captured him. However, he now heard the little toddler wailing loudly, probably crawling around and looking for the Mummy he would never see again.

Then it hit him – Harry would grow up parentless. He would not remember James and Lily's face, and he would see them as strangers when people referred to them. Sirius shook his head. He would never, ever let that happen. His godson would know how his parents had sacrificed themselves to save his life, Sirius would remind him every day of his life if necessary. Sirius would take the child with him – he would raise him as James and Lily would have wanted him to.

Sirius found the little boy crawling beside a small rubber duck, still wailing loudly. Sirius felt something shattering inside him at the sight of the child who was the spitting image of his father, with his mother's eyes. He scooped the toddler into his arms, and ruffled his still scarce black locks. The little boy seemed to recognize him, because he had stopped crying.

"Paddy?" Harry asked a few seconds latter.

Sirius looked into his godson's big, green eyes and nodded. The child had somehow managed to pronounce his godson's name being only fifteen months old, on a chilly October evening in which Sirius and James had tried to make him say 'Quidditch', 'Snitch', 'Quaffle' and many other words Harry was oblivious about yet. Instead, the little misfit had ended up yelling 'Dadda!' 'Paddy!' around the house, which seemed to please Lily very much. Sirius couldn't help but smile at the sweet memory, only to find his chest filling with bitterness as he realized two of the three persons he had shared that afternoon with were now gone forever. But the third person, his godson, now needed him more than ever.

"Yes, I'm here, little Prongs," he whispered to his godson. "I will protect you."

Sirius would make sure Harry grew happy and knowing what his parents had done to save him.