Disclaimer: I wish I owned it. However, in case you haven't picked it up by now, I don't.

A/N: This is a short story about how Petunia Dursley feels about her sister's death, sixteen years after the fact. Perhaps I should have titled this 'Sixteen Years' in stead of 'Warmth'...hmm...

Warmth
Written by SiriusBlack4Ever
Inspired by the lyrics to the song 'Warmth' by The Death Campaign

It's been sixteen years. Sixteen years since I've talked to you. Sixteen years since I've seen you. Sixteen years since I've heard your laughter. Sixteen years since I've held you close. Sixteen years since you've left me. And although I know it's been sixteen years, it feels like so much longer.

Sixteen years is a long time, especially to hold everything in. Sixteen years is a long time to prevent the tears, to hold back the sobs. Sixteen years is a long time to go without feeling, without knowing. Sixteen years is a long time to go without breaking down, to try and forget the pain. Sixteen years is a long time to pretend that nothing is wrong, a long time to pretend that I don't care. But the hardest thing, the thing that is the worst part to accept, is that I do care.

I care so much, it hurts. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of you, that I don't want to just fall down and cry. There isn't a day that I don't remember the way things used to be, and how I screwed them all up. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't regret not doing something - anything - that could turn all of this around. There isn't a day that goes by where I don't somehow blame myself for what's happened, and there's not a day that goes by where I don't remember. Remember that night; remember all the nights before it.

I love you so much, it's hard to go without you. I need you so much, that I don't understand how I've made it through all these years without you. I still can recall everything about you, everything about all the times we shared. I still remember you're brilliant eyes, your soft, flowing hair, your beautiful, laughter-filled smile. And I can still remember the feeling of your arms around me. I remember all of the times that I got scared, and I'd run to you, and you would take me in my arms, and rock me gently against your chest, telling me everything was going to be all right. I still remember how much love I felt then, and how much I knew you cared about me then.

But the thing I question now, is how do I know love? I only knew love around you, and when I was first married. But that love is all gone now. You are gone, and the man I once loved is as good as gone - he doesn't care about me any more than the neighbor across the street does. He likes me, but I no longer think he loves me. He no longer holds me, reassures me, tells me he loves me. And neither do you.

So how do I know love anymore, when no one has loved me for so long? There's no one to love me anymore, and I've had to learn to rock myself, rock myself until it's okay. You used to rock me, but after you left, no one wanted to rock me anymore. So I pretended I didn't care, pretended nothing was wrong. I pretended it didn't matter, but on the inside, I knew that it did, and it ate me up day by day. I vowed to never show that I cared, never tell anyone I did, but now, after sixteen years, I am giving in, and I am showing that I do care.

As I sit in front of your grave, as I stare down at the ground which holds your empty coffin, I rock myself. I rock myself, back and forth, wanting to be loved, wanting to be held. I want you to hold me again in your arms. I want to feel your arms around me, cradling my heart, telling me it's okay. I want to have my head lying against your chest, listening to the soft beating of your heart, calming me, making me feel so warm. Warm arms of love wrapped around me.

But you are not here. You are gone, and you have been gone for sixteen years. Sixteen long years. There is coldness now, shadowing your absence, reminding me you're not here. I long for your embrace, your warmth, and I rock myself, rock myself, but still no warmth comes. It's cold, freezing without you.

I want your words of affection, warming me, telling me it's all right. I want to hear your sweet, soft voice, telling me it's all just a dream, that I'll wake up and you'll be there, holding me in your arms, telling me that it's all right. So warm, so warm. But I don't hear warmth; all I hear is cold. Cold, cold screams. Cold screams that haunted me that night, that made me know before I even woke up that you wouldn't be there anymore. Cold screams that still yet echo in my mind to this day.

I rock myself, rock myself, trying to make it all go away. I try to grasp your warmth; I try to imagine your warm arms around me, to feel your warm arms of love and affection. I rock myself, rock myself, as tears slide down my cheeks for the first time. I try to hold on to the warmth, to keep it safe within me, but only cold shadows your absence. I keep rocking myself, rocking myself, sobs racking my chest and throat. I try to hold on to your embrace from so long ago, but I can't. I can't hold on, because there is no warmth here. There is no warmth, and there never will be again…

A/N2: Well, that's it. Like I said; short, sweet and to the point. Well, maybe not that sweet, but...anyway, let me know what you thought of it.

Always,
SiriusBlack

Warmth
Song by The Death Campaign

How do I know love?
When I've learned to rock myself, Rock myself
To be held in your arms
Please cradle my heart
I want my head against your chest
To hear the beating of your heart, So warm
Warm arms of love
Cold shadows of your absence
Rock myself, Rock myself
Warm words of affection
Cold screams still echo
Rock myself, Rock myself
Warm arms of love
Cold shadows of your absence
Rock myself, Rock myself
No warmth…