In the darkness, Harry sighed. Shivering a little, he focused all his
energies into the seemingly simple movement of his hand that would bring
the covers closer to his chin. Movement seemed to take a lot more effort
these days, as if gravity had somehow increased its plaguing grasp on
everything in the world since he was gone.
He smiled bitterly.
Gone.
Sirius was gone.
He closed his eyes, willing the hollowness inside her to be replaced by anything, the most agonising torture, pain, hurt, grief, anything but this icy, bitter numbness. He felt as though he was being eaten from the inside out, as though there were some emotional acid corroding his heart, scarring his soul and coming closer as each day passed to becoming a physical affliction.
"But it already has," he reminded himself quietly, staring at the scars that were barely visible in the darkness,
"He's been a physical affliction since the day you met."
He shuddered at the memory, that like so many others, only served to remind him of Sirius' absolute, irreversible, undisputable, eternal gone-ness and his own entirely depressing emptiness.
The physical realities of death never ceased to amaze him in their innate ability to cloud what limited judgment he possessed and arouse emotions in him that he had never known to exist.
He wanted to cry. He wanted to be drowned by rivers of salt flowing from his eyes, to cry until the emptiness inside was filled with tears, to cry away al the pain and hurt he felt, but didn't feel. The numbness wouldn't let him feel.
Hollowness.
Just nothing.
But he could make himself feel, even if it was only temporary physical emotion. He could make himself cry, crimson tears that did not come from his eyes. In his despair, this knowledge came as a small and dim beacon of dark hope.
He reached for his wand. The movement was quick, but remained suspended in slow motion for far too long.
"Sanguis lacrima," he murmured, pointing the wand downwards toward him.
A gash appeared on his arm.
"Sanguis lacrima," he said again, more forcefully.
Soon it became a chant.
"Sanguis lacrima, sanguis lacrima."
The hollowness had given way to burning, searing pain.
And the crimson tears had begun to flow.
* * * * * *
He smiled bitterly.
Gone.
Sirius was gone.
He closed his eyes, willing the hollowness inside her to be replaced by anything, the most agonising torture, pain, hurt, grief, anything but this icy, bitter numbness. He felt as though he was being eaten from the inside out, as though there were some emotional acid corroding his heart, scarring his soul and coming closer as each day passed to becoming a physical affliction.
"But it already has," he reminded himself quietly, staring at the scars that were barely visible in the darkness,
"He's been a physical affliction since the day you met."
He shuddered at the memory, that like so many others, only served to remind him of Sirius' absolute, irreversible, undisputable, eternal gone-ness and his own entirely depressing emptiness.
The physical realities of death never ceased to amaze him in their innate ability to cloud what limited judgment he possessed and arouse emotions in him that he had never known to exist.
He wanted to cry. He wanted to be drowned by rivers of salt flowing from his eyes, to cry until the emptiness inside was filled with tears, to cry away al the pain and hurt he felt, but didn't feel. The numbness wouldn't let him feel.
Hollowness.
Just nothing.
But he could make himself feel, even if it was only temporary physical emotion. He could make himself cry, crimson tears that did not come from his eyes. In his despair, this knowledge came as a small and dim beacon of dark hope.
He reached for his wand. The movement was quick, but remained suspended in slow motion for far too long.
"Sanguis lacrima," he murmured, pointing the wand downwards toward him.
A gash appeared on his arm.
"Sanguis lacrima," he said again, more forcefully.
Soon it became a chant.
"Sanguis lacrima, sanguis lacrima."
The hollowness had given way to burning, searing pain.
And the crimson tears had begun to flow.
* * * * * *
