The morning after James and Lily were killed.
Sirius stood in front of the ruins of the place where he and his best friends had many laughs together.
Here, is where he had spent Christmases with James and Lily Potter, and one Christmas with them and their son, Harry.
The once two story home, laid destroyed on the ground, it was very obvious that Voldemort had been there.
He remembered when James told him that he and Lily were expecting, that was nearly 2 years ago.
He remembered helping James paint the baby's room, and help move in the furniture.
He also remembered the few times when James showed up at his doorstep because of Lily's mood swings, he was kicked out.
He sighed softly, that was no more, there would no longer be any messy-haired children, or children with Red-hair here any longer.
No longer would you hear Lily's voice singing to her son at night when he couldn't sleep.
Nor would you hear Lily yelling at James and Sirius when they would plan pranks, they never carried them out, for fear Lily would hex them good.
This was no longer possible, Lily and James had been killed the previous night by a most evil man.
AS Sirius stood there, looking at the once beautiful house, he sighed,
he had done this, he had convinced them to switch secret keepers.
They would've still been alive this morning had he stayed.
He would get his revenge on the man who did this,
he might be put in jail, but if James was alive, he'd be there right beside him.
As someone once said 'a friend will write you in prison, a good friend would visit you in prison, a best friend would be right next to you saying ' that was freakin' sweet!'