DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. JK Rowling is the genius.
This is just a prologue for the start of the story...I hope you like it! (:
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I felt his barking laughter reverberate through his chest as I whispered in his ear, clutching his neck tightly. I never wanted to let him go, ever. We had gone through so much together; he'd been there for me when my parent's died, I'd helped him through the rough spots with his family. We'd been together at Hogwarts and stayed a couple after we had graduated. I thought back on all of the times I'd mistrusted him and accused him of cheating on me. It all seemed insignificant now; he had more than proven his love for me.
We just lay there, in the field behind the creek where we used to meet as kids during our summers apart, just holding each other.
"I love you, Saylie," He whispered through the dark.
"I love y - " My declaration was interrupted by a flash of lightning and booming thunder. Suddenly, my beautiful flashback turned into a nightmare.
Everything became icy cold, and I couldn't feel him underneath my fingers anymore.
"Sirius," I murmured through numb lips. But it was then that I saw them; dementors.
They glided out through the trees, taking slow, rattling breaths. There was a deep, hazy fog and I couldn't see anymore. I was drowning in my own sorrows, the memories pressing in on me from all sides:
The car accident where my loving muggle parents and sister had died, and I was the one who survived. The day I moved in with my two nasty aunts, who insisted it was my own fault I had to come live with them. And, worst of all, the night my love had been taken from me.
The dementors swooped down upon me, forming a circle around my shaking form as I thrashed and screamed in the grass.
"No! Bring him back! Leave him alone! No! SIRIUS!"
I jolted awake in my bed, breathing heavily. His name echoed around and around in my skull. How had my beautiful flashback gone so terribly wrong?
I could ask the same about my life. Putting my face in my hands, I realized my cheeks were wet. This was the only time I did my crying over him - during the night, alone at my flat in London. No one had seen me shed a tear over that disgraceful murderer, nor would they ever see it. I'd had twelve years to get over it, and even though I wasn't, I'd be damned if I let people think I still missed him.
I knew I should never have trusted that Sirius Black.