Save the last dance for me

Chapter 1: The Dog Star

When you left, I stopped smiling,
When you left, my world turned upside down,
When you left, my heart broke,

When you left, I was all alone

Harry contemplated the evening sky as it transformed slowly from a golden scene to a black expanse, dotted with shining lights. The sky, so infinite and unknown, sent a shiver through him, reminding him of his life, empty and incomplete. His eyes were transfixed on a single light in the sky. The Dog Star, as it was known, was shining brightly, pulsating as though it were a heart, beating ever on into the infinite surroundings. He saw no reason why this star should continue burning. The man it represented was gone. 'He's dead, Harry.' Ron's voice echoed, bringing him back to consciousness, but there was no connection between the noise and logic. He ignored the sympathy and the kindness within the voice, and instead focused on his own fury and hate. His friend didn't know what he was going through, Ron didn't know the feeling of loss that welded a deep scar in his heart. Harry continued staring at the star, and although it's cold white light was distant and icy, he found comfort in gazing at it, as though it represented his godfather's life, and it was still there, untouched. Harry reluctantly turned away from the sky, and fixed his eyes on the silhouette in the doorway. Tears welled in his eyes, as they so often did, when looking at others. How could he have been spared when Sirius had not? He felt sick with disgust a second later that he had thought this. Slowly and wearily, he turned back to the window, and wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his jumper. 'It's all right to be sad, Harry, it's all right to be scared.' The voice said slowly, filled with it's own kindness and grief. Harry felt an anger boil up inside him, his bold and brave streak showing through him stronger than he had ever felt before, but he managed, somehow, to control his feelings. 'I'm not afraid,' he said, with an icy tone in his voice. Anyone who knew him well enough would have taken this as a warning sign. Ever since Sirius' death, he had had many angry outbursts, and they all began with this chilled edge to his voice, unlike the hollow grate that usually haunted his intonation. 'You can't dwell on his life forever, there's nothing you could have done that would have stopped it.' Ron was wrong, he thought, he could have intercepted the jet of light that had sped towards Sirius' body, he could have deflected it, if only he knew how it would turn out. He cursed himself for the lack of knowledge at the time, and would give anything to change it. He turned to face the individual in the door. His tall and somewhat gangly torso was leaning crookedly against the frame; his tousled hair was windswept across his face. Harry's voice cracked and shuddered. 'I could have saved him, Ron, if only I'd known how.' The tall figure walked towards Harry's lone and crumpled form by the window. Ron's face was bathed in moonlight, his anxious expression filling his face, his eyes flitting across Harry's features, as though searching for an explanation. Harry's face was immersed in shadow, and only his sallow skin reflected the light from the open doorway. His haunted and shrunken eyes behind the confines of his glasses remained callous and unfeeling. Ron sat down beside Harry, barely recognising his friend as the happy-go-lucky and cheerful person he had known for six years. Instead, before him, was a smaller and perhaps sadder image of Sirius. Although Ron was a joyful man at heart, he could tell this was no time for awkward jokes and one-liners. Ron was no good at situations like this. Harry just scowled at his friend's lack of words, and turned back to the glass pane. 'Look mate, I'm no good at this sort of thing, but I do know this. You got to get over it. It's been, what, three months now, and you got to forget about it. I mean, not forget him, but.' He seemed to be digging himself into a deeper hole every word. His ears stared turning crimson. 'What I mean to say is that what's happened had happened, and you can't change it, and,' he added, noting the determined glint in Harry's eye, 'if you do, things will never be the same again.' He stopped short, thinking on exactly the same lines as Harry. 'You can't use a time turner, you know it.' Harry simply shrugged. 'Look, I don't believe in this fate stuff, you know that, and I think Trelawny talks a load of old bollocks, but the point is, it wouldn't have happened if Sirius hadn't loved you. If you change time, it won't make any difference. Sirius loved you, and would have risked anything to save you, so no matter what you do, or change the past, sometime, he would always have died trying to save you. Do you get what I'm saying here?' Although Harry rarely smiled, his eyes creased up in laughter when Ron talked about Trelawny, but he remained stony silent. Ron didn't always make sense, and he was very vague, but he had got his point across. If Sirius had to die, he would always have died saving Harry; that was how strong their relationship was. Harry merely replied to Ron with a silent nod, and said no more. 'I, er, I guess you'll not want anything to eat?' Ron stammered, although he may as well have been talking to a brick wall for all the response he got. 'I'll get mum to bring up some soup or something.' 'No, I'm not hungry.' Harry replied firmly, but still distantly. He didn't want to see Mrs Weasley right now, she wouldn't respect his privacy in the way that Ron did. Mrs Weasley, though good at heart, would never come in and go out without a word. She would try and hug him, comfort him, rock him as she did so, hushing him and telling him everything would be all right. Although he would have welcomed such a hug from a mother figure at another time, he needed to be alone, to be with them.