Where All Reason Ends: No Logic, Maybe Truth

Summary: Sirius reflects on the first time he saw Harry in Privet Drive. The aspirations, the thoughts, the guilt of having wasted his life. One-shot.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Harry Potter books. J K Rowling does.

A/N: Here goes another spur of the moment work. I wrote it at 1.00 AM a Monday night when I just couldn't fall asleep (Yes, writing one-shots is the cure for insomnia, haven't you heard?). I think it might be quite unlogical (hence the title), and probably very wrong.

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I remember so very vividly the first time I saw Harry – except for when he was a baby, of course. I had transformed into Padfoot, and had snuck up to the house where he lived with those muggles, to, I dunno, maybe just get a sight of him, I guess. See if he looked anything like Prongs, perhaps.

I had hidden in some bushes only a few paces away from their frontdoor. I wasn't really expecting to see him, as it was rather late in the evening. But then, just all of a sudden, there he was. And I could see he was real angry, you know? He just had that sort of way to move, body language, that made it so clear. He was pointing his wand at a big man who was standing in the doorway, and in his left hand he carried his trunk. For a moment there, I almost thought he was James. He slammed the door behind him, and when he turned around I caught a glimpse of his eyes. And no, no matter how much they looked like hers, I didn't think of Lily when I saw them. I thought of myself. That angry look he had... that's my look. The way he staggered away quickly, walking sort of forcefully, you know? Kicking his feet against the ground every few steps. That was me. And the way he slowed down after a few yards, the way his eyes turned all gloomy ... that was most definitely me.

And you know – I felt like I was his father, but I didn't have to be responsible. I felt proud, as of a son, but at the same time I felt as though I'd met myself. And as I saw him lighting his wand, I thought even more that he was just like me. Not caring about rules an' all... I just felt like, I didn't want to lose him. He was like the son I'd never had. He was – just like me.

I thought of how when you're doing equations, if you take away something on one side, you gotta take it away on the other side too. And I thought like, well, if I take away the in Godfather, I can take away the in Godson too. And then we're like father and son. Geez, James would have killed me if he heard me say these things. Harry was... his joy and pride. But now James was gone, and Harry was myjoy and pride. I felt this warmth grow in my chest, thinking that my existence was no longer pointless – for the first time since I was a kid, I had something to care about. I had someone. Harry brought meaning to my life.

It didn't matter that he got so obviously scared when he spotted me. Pointing his wand at the bushes where I was hiding and backing away. It didn't matter that I realized he wasn't really like me. That he was more like my opposite. He was caring, gentle. When I was his age, let's face it, I was a bastard. Maybe I still was. Maybe I just didn't have anyone to be a bastard to anymore... Although I had Harry now. But I cared about him. And you know, I've changed my mind again. He was like me. Only his life hadn't been at all like mine. If it had, I'm telling you, he would have been just like me. Had he grown up with my mother, I swear he'd have become a bastard too.

The next second he was going away with the Knightbus. But it didn't matter. I felt like I had found the missing piece of a jigsaw. Not only someone to care for, but also a bit of me. You see, I just lived my life and I hardly noticed it going by. Always living day-to-day, you don't really think of time. Now maybe the damage could be repaired. I could make sure Harry got the life I never got. Yeah... what a cliché. But still, it's the truth.

It was the bit I'd lost in Azkaban. The young me.

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