I would like to dedicate this piece to the memory of my twin sister Hillary who died September 1991, my muse for all my writing; and to the memory of my friend Blake who died September 2009, who inspired the creation of this piece.
We met it seemed such a short time ago
You looked at me needing me so
And from your sadness our happiness grew
And then I realized I needed you too
I remember how we used to play
I recall those rainy days
The fire's glow that kept us warm
And now I realize we're both alone
Goodbye may seem forever
Farewell is like the end
But in my heart's a memory
And there you'll always be
-Disney's The Fox and the Hound
Cast Me Gently
By: Anni Re
The village streets were silent, glazed with a light layer of Christmas snow darkened from its crisp white color to a dull bluish grey with the coming evening. The people of Godric's Hollow were happily holed up in their warm homes enjoying the presence of their loved ones in plush chairs and by the hearths of crackling fires, away from the clod darkened windows, portals to winter's chill. So no one noticed in the gathering dark a young man with a bushel of black hair and eyes the color of spring appear seemingly out of nowhere with a crack of light and sound.
Harry Potter quickly adjusted his robes about himself, not quite prepared for the frigidity of the place of his birth in comparison to Grimmauld Place, the warm bed sheets with his fiancé nestled within them, the low fire in the kitchen that heated the house tended by his house elf periodically during the night. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he thought of the pair. Harry had grown fond of Kreacher over the past few months, which came as a slight surprise to him since the elf was undoubtedly, and sometimes quite obviously, incurably addled by his old mistress. But still he believed that Sirius ' family cheated their son out of an intensely loyal companion that would have been some comfort to him in the house had considered a prison.
Sirius…The grin that was growing immediately fell from his face…the reason he had come to this place. From the moment Harry had accepted that his godfather had died, which was sometime during the summer after his fifth year he had sworn to himself that he would do this. But from the moment he had decided to do this, it had become impossible to do so because he had to wage a war with Voldemort, and also the after effects of said war. Harry was heavily involved in the trials of all the Death Eaters determined not to have a repeat of Sirius Black, an innocent man falsely imprisoned, and since Kingsley Shacklebolt was the temporary Minister of Magic he did not receive any of the usual political opposition in doing this. However, it was proven over and over again that there were so Sirius Black situations to be found, the most occurring being a slight internment deduction. Harry did have a personal win on Remus' behalf. The werewolves that were being rallied by Fenrir Greyback got to voice the injustices against their kind that caused them to side with darkness in the first place. Harry heard though the grapevine that the general public was demanding an inquiry into the Council of the Magical Rights and Services of the Wizarding Peoples of Britain to find the source of these oppressions. Another victory is that Harry made a silent truce with Draco. During the trying of the Malfoy family Harry said that Narcissa had lied about him being dead giving Harry the advantage he needed to lead to the Dark Lord's destruction. This granted the family a pardon, and although it was never said, the two parties had made peace with one another. What the public reasoned, and what the logical side of Harry reasoned was that he did not want to make a powerful and wealthy enemy out of the Malfoy family so soon after he failed the enemy that was Voldemort. But the emotional side of Harry reasoned that he couldn't stand it of another family was torn apart by the war. The smallest and yet most profound victory was that Harry had received a Christmas card from his Aunt Petunia.
This completely normal and common act in the everyday world shocked Harry out of his wartime pro-activeness and he experienced a revelation that he was living in peace, enough peace to do what he wanted to do for near three years now.
The crunching of the snow under his shoes brought him back to his reality. He pulled out his wand and with a low red glow defrosted his glasses illuminating the telltale scar on his forehead. With the same swoop of his wand he revealed yet another thing. A fence made of blackened iron, twisted and warped with age snaking across his eyesight the gate directly in front of him. Harry pocketed his wand and with the same hand he opened the gate the coldness burning his palm. The joints of the gate creaking like an old man. The place was quiet, not a natural quiet like the sleeping village behind him but a forced quiet, as if all those that were here had no physical voices. Harry didn't mind though, he was as silent as the rest of them, looking around, watching tombstones peel themselves away from black shadows.
There was no body to bury, and Harry did not want to hold a funeral for Sirius. It's not as if he believed Sirius didn't deserve a funeral, he believed that most of the people that would attended did not deserve to be there. Harry never told anyone this, but a couple of weeks after the Department of Mysteries, the soon to be ex-Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge sought him out at Privet Drive while his aunt, uncle, and cousin were out at the movies since that was the only thing they could do to get Dudley out of the house. Harry with Fudge never crossing into the house, accepted on behalf of Sirius an Order of Merlin, First Class believing that it would further cement Sirius' innocence and martyrdom into the minds of the wizarding community and gave permission for Sirius' name to be placed on the monument that would be built as a memorial to the glorious dead. But the Fudge asked him casually when the funeral would take place. And as he listed the names of the dignitaries and the political figures that expressed a desire to attend all Harry heard was how Fudge would act during it. He would stand in front of them and give a tedious speech about how great a man Sirius was, who suffered long and hard to be a defender of the light. That his life was a tragedy and his death was a tragic act of ruthless violence and he should be remembered in the hearts of everyone as a hero. Even though everyone including Fudge until a few weeks ago considered him to be a half mad murderer. Fudge would then dramatically present the Order of Merlin shedding a false tear that politicians had so artfully mastered. Harry retched a little inside his mouth at the indecency of that thought and flat out lied to the man in front of him saying that the funeral had already occurred. In a heavily sarcastic tone Harry continued, commenting on the irony of the whole scenario saying it could have all been avoided if they had just given Sirius a trial, or, simpler yet, rolled up his shirt sleeves to find the mark that the most loyal supporter of Voldemort would most defiantly have and most defiantly show off, if he had one. Harry took great pleasure in slamming the door in his face.
Harry stopped abruptly in front of his parents' grave. He was happy he got to visit them again but his purpose for his visit to the cemetery was not primarily them this time. Almost robotically Harry produced from the folds of his robes and dark stone that he had picked up in the backyard of his new home. Harry chose the side of his father accounting that he and Sirius were better friends. He walked to his father's side of the stone tenderly touching it as he went and kneeled down in the snow not caring if it soaked through to the skin and laid the stone down, digging it into the earth a little. He took out his wand and muttered a soft spell under his breath, transfiguring the stone into a grave marker. It was as black as onyx and at one time he heard that people in Sirius' family were buried under black markers because of their surname. He knew Sirius did not like his family and would not want to follow this tradition but he chose a black stone for another reason. Sirius' name meant Dog Star. Slowly and carefully like he did with Dobby he hand carved with a light from his wand Sirius' name along with his birth and death dates in a beautiful silver so that it shined like brilliant stars against a black sky.
Harry paused and looked over at his parents' tombstone staring at the inscription lay beneath the names and dates of James and Lily Potter. He looked back over at the blank spot beneath Sirius' name, seeking silently though his head for words to place there. As the calm side of his brain searched, the angry more volatile side of Harry wrestled with another matter. Harry believed that after seventeen years of sacrifice he had earned the right to be a little selfish. And he selfishly wanted his godfather to be alive. He wanted to show him Teddy and to say that he learned everything on how to be a great godfather from him. He wanted him to be at the wedding Ginny was planning for the two of them spilling champagne all over himself. He wanted him to rebuild his life that he never got to have. Heck, he wanted to see the reaction on his face when he told them he broke into Gringotts and rode out on a dragon, stealing from Bellatrix no less. He selfishly wanted him, more than he wanted his parents back sometimes because he had actual tangible memories of Sirius, and it hurt more because he could see him laugh see him compassionate see him as a parental figure where as with his parents he only had the memories that other people told him about. Yet more than anything he selfishly wanted to be selfish on Sirius' behalf to be angry that he lived an unfulfilled life to demand from whoever was in charge of it to give life back to him so he could actually live it.
But then Harry thought. He wouldn't really be living no he would just be looking backwards at a past that would be getting further and further away from him. He would have never been whole again without the best friend that he was now symbolically lying beside. Harry vividly remembered that the last thing Sirius had said to him was that he had mistakenly called him James and that accidental thing is what gave Harry his consolation every time his mood had turned dark with anger and sadness over Sirius; and as it would do many more times in the future. The two brothers were together again and Sirius was happier wherever he was now. And Harry the ever self-sacrificing would give up someone he loved if they would be happier elsewhere.
Harry really had no idea where these words came from. It was almost as if some element part of himself was writing it and his physical form was carving it into the stone. As he did so he poured out his grief in heavy sobs: for Sirius, for Remus, for James and Lily, and for everyone else that he knew or didn't know that had died in the war. He leaned back and looked at the words again scripted in a shining star like silver.
Cast me gently into morning
For the night has been unkind
Satisfied, calm, and quiet once again. Harry leaned forward and fiercely embraced the marker, as if Sirius Black was indeed buried underneath.
Finis
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