The ones that love us never really leave us.
'We are part of you, invisible to anyone else.'
Sirius Black
Master Padfoot
The cries of the damned pierced the ceiling,
And Azkaban's walls trembled with groans.
The wails of the winds howled through the rags
he wore, tearing agonised moans
from his chapped lips.
Images of laughter faded from his mind
Leaving jagged, jaded pieces behind.
Come, they whispered. Your mind will be mine.
Months? Years?
No clock ticked, no time passed. What am I doing here? he thought, cold rattling his bones. Faint wisps of anger and longing had been stolen from his only moments ago. Back to happier times, spoke his mind, and who was he to refuse?
Do you remember as we sat, gazing into the lake and you threw breadcrumbs at the Giant Squid, thinking yourself so clever? Or was it me that did that? Your eyes were alive James, and I remember mine being too. Or was that just wishful thinking?
We would rule the four corners of the universe.
We yearn for the future.
We live in the past.
But I won't forget our yesterday.
(please, don't make me forget—)
Days? Weeks?
He slept through the silence, but the ghosts were still talking. Have you fed Harry yet Padfoot? No James. Are you going to get around to doing it? No James. His nappy needs changing, d'you reckon? I don't know James. Aren't you with him Sirius? No James.
I trusted you with him. Why are you breaking me Sirius?
Bellatrix screamed,
Rudolphus howled.
The moon doth shine
And create a crown.
Misery loves company,
That is true,
But madness is the enemy
Just like you.
Remus skipped stones in the pits of his mind, where sunlight sparkled on blue glittering streams. He turned to look at him with that soft smile, gentle eyes probing his wasted form. Are you coming home now Sirius? I can't Moony.
Another full moon is gone Padfoot. Where were you?
The wasps buzzed in his ear
It was all becoming clear
The end was nigh
He died with a sigh
Or was that a dream?
Is that his cousin's scream?
No, it's some other life
Snuffing out.
You learn a lot when you drown in thoughts, about yourself and who you are.
Pity it didn't matter of course.
Introspection never did anyone any good. Especially not the damned.
He was a dog, but a man. But if he was a man, did that mean he wasn't a dog? No, he was a dog, but a man too. If one was the other, and the other was the one, did that mean he was both, or did that mean he was none? If the dog spoke and the man barked, was it the same as if the man cried and the dog howled?
Azkaban was never a place for sane men.
Azkaban was home for the mad.
But what about the in-between people?
The people who'd been given a home with the sane and had eschewed the mad?
Those that had had a choice?
Where did Sirius belong?
Sirius is a star in the sky,
Sirius is a man in jail.
Sirius is a man made of skin and bones,
Sirius is a child who failed.
Can you ever forgive me James? You made me yours, and I couldn't protect yours.
No, I suppose Harry's ours, isn't he?
And when darkness fell in Grimmauld Place, Sirius fled.
And when darkness fell in Azkaban, Sirius fled once more.
And when darkness fell in the Department of Mysteries, Sirius fled for the last time.
(Don't cry Harry. I'm going home.)