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Wait For Me
Do you think of me sometimes?
I remember you. I remember playing pranks on you at school, and how you always said if I spent half that time on my homework I'd be Head Boy. I remember the time I turned your hair green at Quidditch practice, using the charm you taught me, and you chased me around the pitch brandishing your Beater's club. I remember asking you out, down by the lake, trying not to let on that I was terrified. I remember graduation, and when you cut your hair and trained to be an Auror. I remember dancing with you at James and Lily's wedding, and asking you to marry me. You laughed. I imagine I must have looked foolish—the reckless prankster Sirius Black on one knee in front of his girlfriend. But the memories are skewed, twisted. The happy parts are gone. All the memories leave me with is desperation. Misery. Loneliness.
The loneliness is a constant, as much a part of the place as the dark and the filth and the cold of the dementors. They glide past silently, absorbing every happy thought. Some of the prisoners scream, but that's only the new ones. You get used to it after a while, and mostly everyone else just mutters to themselves. Sometimes, if the dementors pause outside the door, I can hardly remember what you looked like.
If it gets too bad, I transform, but then I remember the first time you saw me in dog form. You nicknamed me "Snuffles" after a pet you grew up with and scratched behind my ear until I transformed back and rolled around on the floor in laughter. And then the loneliness hits again.
Lyri, I didn't do it. I wasn't their Secret Keeper, much as I regret it now, and I didn't kill all those Muggles. I wouldn't betray Lily and James, and I wouldn't throw away my life like that. It would be betraying you—and that's something I simply couldn't do.
I think you know that—or maybe I have to tell myself you do because the thought of you thinking of me as a cold-blooded murderer makes me sick. That itself would drive me crazier than Azkaban could.
What did you do when you found out? Have you moved on? You could be married with a few children by now, and I wouldn't know.
I don't know if you remember me. I don't know if you still love me. I know you used to. I only know I'm innocent, and I have to escape.
What was that line, from the song you loved?
I vow to come for you, if you wait for me.
Wait For Me
Do you think of me sometimes?
I remember you. I remember playing pranks on you at school, and how you always said if I spent half that time on my homework I'd be Head Boy. I remember the time I turned your hair green at Quidditch practice, using the charm you taught me, and you chased me around the pitch brandishing your Beater's club. I remember asking you out, down by the lake, trying not to let on that I was terrified. I remember graduation, and when you cut your hair and trained to be an Auror. I remember dancing with you at James and Lily's wedding, and asking you to marry me. You laughed. I imagine I must have looked foolish—the reckless prankster Sirius Black on one knee in front of his girlfriend. But the memories are skewed, twisted. The happy parts are gone. All the memories leave me with is desperation. Misery. Loneliness.
The loneliness is a constant, as much a part of the place as the dark and the filth and the cold of the dementors. They glide past silently, absorbing every happy thought. Some of the prisoners scream, but that's only the new ones. You get used to it after a while, and mostly everyone else just mutters to themselves. Sometimes, if the dementors pause outside the door, I can hardly remember what you looked like.
If it gets too bad, I transform, but then I remember the first time you saw me in dog form. You nicknamed me "Snuffles" after a pet you grew up with and scratched behind my ear until I transformed back and rolled around on the floor in laughter. And then the loneliness hits again.
Lyri, I didn't do it. I wasn't their Secret Keeper, much as I regret it now, and I didn't kill all those Muggles. I wouldn't betray Lily and James, and I wouldn't throw away my life like that. It would be betraying you—and that's something I simply couldn't do.
I think you know that—or maybe I have to tell myself you do because the thought of you thinking of me as a cold-blooded murderer makes me sick. That itself would drive me crazier than Azkaban could.
What did you do when you found out? Have you moved on? You could be married with a few children by now, and I wouldn't know.
I don't know if you remember me. I don't know if you still love me. I know you used to. I only know I'm innocent, and I have to escape.
What was that line, from the song you loved?
I vow to come for you, if you wait for me.