As his fingers ghosted over the boy's tired face and he prepared to say
goodbye, Sirius remembered. Remembered another face like this one,
remembered another parting. The sorrow sharper then because that parting
was infinitely more final than this one.
Remembered himself, 20 years younger, in his final year at Hogwarts. Handsome like he had been before the ravages of time and Azkaban had taken their toll on him. Remembered kneeling in front of a bench like this one, hands trembling as they hovered inches away from the face of the boy before him.
"James." Remembered the way his voice had cracked, words crumbling inside him. The way James' face hardened as he looked down at Sirius staring up at him. The way James had pushed his hands down.
"Sirius, please" His hands had trembled and in the present Harry held his breath as Sirius traced the line of his cheekbones, a tremor running through his hands.
"Sirius, please." James had repeated, eyes darting from side to side along the empty walkway. "Don't make a scene."
"But I loved you. I love you. You said you loved me."
"I love Lily." Came the answer, quick as lightning. A vicious stab to shatter Sirius' heart into a thousand jagged pieces.
Sirius' hand slid down Harry's cheek, wiping away a tear that had rested there. He met eyes that were the wrong colour. The vivid green of new leaves, not the hazel of a warm autumn day.
Not the hazel eyes he remembered. The ones he'd stared into a hundred times. The eyes that had seen into his soul and stolen a piece he could never reclaim. A piece taken by force that he had given away so willingly.
Eyes that had turned from him on that walkway on that day. Framed by dark lashes that would no more brush against his cheek in sleep. That he would no more be invited to kiss on nights when the half moon flooded the dormitory with silver light, and the others were asleep and the only noise was the sound of their breathing.
One thumb grazed Harry's lips, guided by a mind that could not think, only remember. Harry stilled, caught up in the pain of the man kneeling on the stone floor, whose eyes shone with unspilled tears, and whose shoulders slumped like a man condemned. The man who could do nothing but remember.
Remember plump dark lips that had whispered wonderful, terrible promises in his ear during unbearably long arithmancy lessons. Remember lips that had visited him in darkened rooms to keep those promises.
Lips that hat uttered those words. "I love Lily." Lips that had broken the spell, the illusion, cast him away like a spent toy. Still friends, always that. Still half of the double act that tormented professors and delighted students. But what did that compare?
Remembered standing up, brushing down his robes. Walking away. Remembered his last words.
"Goodbye James."
Abruptly he released Harry, hands falling away from the boy's face in a hopeless gesture.
Sirius stood, and brushed down his robes.
"Goodbye Harry." He sad.
And walked away.
Remembered himself, 20 years younger, in his final year at Hogwarts. Handsome like he had been before the ravages of time and Azkaban had taken their toll on him. Remembered kneeling in front of a bench like this one, hands trembling as they hovered inches away from the face of the boy before him.
"James." Remembered the way his voice had cracked, words crumbling inside him. The way James' face hardened as he looked down at Sirius staring up at him. The way James had pushed his hands down.
"Sirius, please" His hands had trembled and in the present Harry held his breath as Sirius traced the line of his cheekbones, a tremor running through his hands.
"Sirius, please." James had repeated, eyes darting from side to side along the empty walkway. "Don't make a scene."
"But I loved you. I love you. You said you loved me."
"I love Lily." Came the answer, quick as lightning. A vicious stab to shatter Sirius' heart into a thousand jagged pieces.
Sirius' hand slid down Harry's cheek, wiping away a tear that had rested there. He met eyes that were the wrong colour. The vivid green of new leaves, not the hazel of a warm autumn day.
Not the hazel eyes he remembered. The ones he'd stared into a hundred times. The eyes that had seen into his soul and stolen a piece he could never reclaim. A piece taken by force that he had given away so willingly.
Eyes that had turned from him on that walkway on that day. Framed by dark lashes that would no more brush against his cheek in sleep. That he would no more be invited to kiss on nights when the half moon flooded the dormitory with silver light, and the others were asleep and the only noise was the sound of their breathing.
One thumb grazed Harry's lips, guided by a mind that could not think, only remember. Harry stilled, caught up in the pain of the man kneeling on the stone floor, whose eyes shone with unspilled tears, and whose shoulders slumped like a man condemned. The man who could do nothing but remember.
Remember plump dark lips that had whispered wonderful, terrible promises in his ear during unbearably long arithmancy lessons. Remember lips that had visited him in darkened rooms to keep those promises.
Lips that hat uttered those words. "I love Lily." Lips that had broken the spell, the illusion, cast him away like a spent toy. Still friends, always that. Still half of the double act that tormented professors and delighted students. But what did that compare?
Remembered standing up, brushing down his robes. Walking away. Remembered his last words.
"Goodbye James."
Abruptly he released Harry, hands falling away from the boy's face in a hopeless gesture.
Sirius stood, and brushed down his robes.
"Goodbye Harry." He sad.
And walked away.