Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A.N.: I took awhile but it is finally finished. Enjoy. And don't forget to review!

Chapter 8

They were waiting on the other side of the barrier. Their faces were somber and worried as they waited for their daughter's arrival. But it was not for her that they were worried. It was Riley that held their thoughts, for they knew how this death would hit her. They knew her strength of will. And they knew how hurt she was already. They did not fear unnecessarily.

Lily came first. Her eyes were stained with the signs of tears, hastily wiped away in an attempt to look composed. Needless to say she had failed abysmally in the attempt. She looked forlorn and weary. Her face did not conceal its sadness, but then she never had been one to hold back her emotions. Nevertheless she walked proudly to her parents and let herself be wrapped tightly in her father's arms. A sigh of relief escaped her lips despite her best efforts and she sank farther into the embrace, feeling the comfort of her father's intention.

She looked to her mother only to be smothered by another hug. Tears fell from the motherly eyes of Emily Evans as she clung tight to her daughter. She felt Lily begin to shudder slightly in her grip and knew that tears were once again staining her face. She wished she could be like her husband and offer some kind, any kind, of comfort, but she had no such gift. She just held tight to her Lily and shed her own tears. She knew that this was going to be the easy part of that meeting.

"Is-is she…" the voice of Henry Evans broke through the silent weeping. "Is she alright?"

Lily nodded slowly. "Yes," she chocked out through her tears. "Yes, she's okay, well not okay. I don't think she ever will be. But she is…she is coming."

Her father nodded. He knew how much this was hurting his daughter. She held the kind of love and compassion in her heart that the world had all but forgotten. He was amazed sometimes to look at her and see how blessed he was. She and Riley were more like sisters than anything. After it had happened he had taken them in, Riley and Mackenzie, as his own daughters, as he knew his brother would have done had it been him. They had nobody else and he loved them very dearly, as dearly as he loved his own Lily. And now one of his daughters was gone.

Poor sweet Mackenzie, she was so young and curious. He knew she was going to be a witch. He could see the magical glow in her eyes, such a vivid blue, each time he had the opportunity to look at them. She was always going, always adventurous, always trying to keep up to her big sister. She was gentle and caring even at so young an age, and she found friendship everywhere as she always smiled and gave a friendly hello. He sometimes wondered if she even remembered it. She remembered her father, he knew, but did she remember the summer and what had passed only mere months ago. She never gave sign that she had. She stayed cheerful and bright as always, and only for a brief moment as she had watched her father, his brother, lowered into the earth did she slip up and shed a tear. It had even been she who had comforted Riley on that grave day. But now there was no one to comfort Riley. That wonderful child who was the very image of laughter and love was gone.

Riley took over his thoughts then. Oh dear Riley. How ever could she deal with this, so soon after? She had been like Mackenzie once too, free spirited and loving. Bur after the summer she had become distant somehow, without going cold. She had grown a fierceness to her beauty like a thorn on a rose. She had endured but she had not forgotten, she had moved on but still held tight. She did remember, and she understood, and that was far worse than naivety, for she knew what had been done. Time seemed to heal her wounds, but the scars did not fade. Her eyes held her story, sorrowful and cheerless. And now, now another chapter had been added to that unbearable tale.

"Dad?" Lily said softly tears still clinging to her eye lashes. "Are you alright?"

He had not noticed the solitary tears leaking from his own eyes at the thought of his brother's children. He looked upon her again. He took in her hair so unlike his own, and then her green eyes which he knew were her mother's. And he smiled, slightly. "Yes, I'm alright. Everything will be alright…it just takes time sometimes."

She nodded slowly, taking in his words and digesting them. She hoped they held truth. And as she saw Riley emerge from the barrier, she knew it would take a long time for this to be alright.

Riley walked toward them slowly but erect. She was determined not to cry, not again. She did not cry, she never had. She was proud and strong and tears were a sign of weakness, the weakness she had decided long before that she didn't have. But no matter how hard she tried, she could not prevent that bitter emotion, that bitter flaw, from entering her heart. She did cry and it killed her to do so. She had tried to take herself away from everything, to become like a rock, but she loved too much to be of stone. She loved her friends and her family, and she did not want to lose them out of fear of pain, of tears. She became fierce and cold, but still remained herself, remained Riley, and Riley cried.

"Oh, god, Riley," her aunt whispered loudly as she pulled Riley into her arms. "Oh god, why? Why did this happen to you? You don't deserve this."

Riley held back her tears even as she was held tightly in the arms of Lily's mother. She wouldn't break, she wouldn't let herself. "Nobody deserves this," she whispered detachedly.

"I know, dear. I know," came the sighed reply.

When Riley was released from the arms of her aunt she found herself facing the one person she knew could bring her to regretful tears, her uncle, her father's brother, the one who had loved her enough to accept her as his own. He looked at her for a moment and took in her grieved appearance. She held herself proudly, willed herself not to look frail, but in her eyes that frailty was not hidden. Her eyes were her father's, deep and thoughtful. Mackenzie had taken after her mother, but Riley was her father. She was composed and collected, unruffled even, but he knew it was merely her pride that carried her. Under her costume she was weeping, weeping for loss, for grief, for Mackenzie, for her father. Underneath her costume she was weeping, and bleeding.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered to her with all of the sincerity in his heart.

Her eyes, sorrowful, held his own. "I know," she whispered.

She found her way to his arms and let her body be encircled in his arms. And then she did cry, into his shoulder, into the shoulder of one who knew truly what it was she was feeling then. And she did not fight her tears, but let them fall with a subdued joy as she found a comfort in her uncle's embrace.

Sirius watched this all. He stood to the side going rather unnoticed through the pain that belonged to this family. He was an outsider, yet he felt the same pain in his own heart for them. He loved them, he loved Riley, and watching now, as she wept along with her uncle, he truly understood her pain.

Then Lily was at his side. She too was crying silently, but she looked to him and gave him a look of needed reassurance. He smiled slightly in return, thankful for her presence and friendship. She returned the gesture and turned back to her family.

It seemed hours before everyone was assembled in the car and they were heading for home, but it didn't matter. Sirius, Lily and Riley were seated in the back of the rather squashed car. No one spoke. Nobody could bring themselves to. The few sober words exchanged in the station had been enough. Sirius had been introduced briefly. Lily's mother had proceeded to encase him in her arms in an act of welcome, and he had been very grateful for it. And now as the sun fell from the sky in the west, they were heading home, and even more significantly, they were heading toward the funeral that lay less than twenty four hours away. Sirius glanced at Riley. He knew she was thinking the same thing.

The house that loomed behind the driveway was large. In fact it gave the slight impression of being a cozy looking mansion. It was located in the center of an obviously wealthy part of town, full of large backyards complete with playing children, posh looking restaurants and schools, and an abundance of expensive sports cars. It was an unexpected location for the residence of Lily Evans. Sirius had always pictured her in a small quiet suburban area. She seemed too humble to be part of an exclusive neighborhood like this. But he was beginning to expect unexpected things from her.

The joyful sounds issuing from the neighboring backyard were not mirrored by the members of the Evans house as they made their way from the car to the finely carven front door of the manor. The initiators of the noise were a few small boys indulging in a game that involved a ball and a couple of stray branches that seemed to have been plucked from a nearby tree much to its irritation. They ran back and forth across the yard unconscious to the events that had happened so near to them, but still unaffecting them.

Riley watched them somewhat contently wishing she could be like that, naïve and innocent, once again. Mackenzie had been like that, young and careless. But how she was gone and they were not. Cruel, she thought. Of course it was cruel, but the world was cruel, she had discovered that long ago. However seeing those boys, healthy, happy, alive, the cruelty of her sister's death struck her like an unsuspecting blow.

The boys, hearing the car door, looked up from their game. There were three of them in total. They quieted their contest seeing their neighbors, having been instructed to do so by their parents. They watched with boyish interest the somber faces of the Evans family and Sirius as they walked by. Death was a concept seldom understood by children, but these boys found understanding in the saddened expressions etched on the faces of those they watched. They felt a sudden stir of an unknown emotion rise up inside of them. They did not know it for empathy, but even they deemed it meant something. After holding a short conference among themselves one, the leader, or perhaps only the scapegoat, was thrust forward to bear message to the passing party.

He stalked slightly nervously to the neighbors. His fair hair was ruffled by the wind as he approached. His face showed his discomfort but also his sympathy. He found who he was looking for and said in a quietly assertive tone to Riley, "I, um, we're really sorry about Mackenzie." He stopped shortly and snuck a look back toward his friends. "She was really fun and nice," he finished.

Riley's face changed. It became soft and caring. She knelt to face the boy at eye level. He was younger even that Mackenzie, no older than six or seven. She gently took one of his hands in her own and said, "Thank you, Derrick. It means a lot that you came to say that."

He nodded awkwardly and said, "You're welcome. I have to go now."

Riley nodded as well in return and gave a slight smile. He returned it before running off to rejoin his friends.

Sirius watched. It seemed to him that as she stood and turned away from the boys she lost a piece of herself, a piece of her youth. She looked weathered and beaten, almost old. She was grown up and burdened by the many wounds that life had already dealt her. It was a bitter sight to see.

She did not falter though, but walked toward the house, her home, with the same pride and strength that she had convinced herself she possessed. She did not falter in her act.

Once inside the family disbanded. Riley, with a simple phrase, declared her exhaustion and made for her room. No one objected. They knew she wanted to be alone. Lily's mother announced that she needed to see to supper and gave Sirius hasty directions to a guest bedroom that had been made ready for him. Her father muttered something about last minute arrangements before he disappeared up the stairs that led away from the front entry hall. Sirius and Lily were left alone.

He looked over at her. She was looking up at a picture on the wall. He walked closer to get a better view of it. It was a family portrait, not of Lily's family, but of Riley's. There were four of them. The inhabitants of the frame did not move but each smiled. The elder couple each had placed a hand on one of their daughter's shoulders as they beamed down at them. They looked so content and pleasant. No one could have imagined, looking up at that picture, that anything could tear this family apart.

He scanned the portrait. He took in Riley's lovely face, and then Mackenzie's, sweet and innocent. Riley, beside her Mackenzie, looked just as she always did, but for one difference. There was no pain in her eyes, no fierceness in her face. She had not yet had her taste of the world's cruelty. His eyes then slowly found their way to David Evans' face. Riley's father's face. It was soft and strong, patient and caring. His eyes, hazel, were deep with wisdom and saturated in intelligence, but they also held and edge that was spontaneous and wild even. They were Riley's eyes. Eventually his glance came upon the charming face of Alice Evans. Her features were warm and pleasant. She gave the impression of adept motherhood. But there was something about her, something set deep in her vibrant blue eyes, that caught Sirius' gaze. It was not easily discerned in the kind face of Riley's mother, but there was a streak that looked somewhat unpleasant, somewhat…cold. But upon a second look that crack of chill was gone. Sirius stared hard at her face but he saw nothing. Had he imagined it?

He turned his glance on Lily looking from some explanation perhaps. She was wiping away the last stray tears that yet clung to her eyelashes. Her face looked weary and burdened. Sirius knew she had been so worried about Riley that she had hardly a minute of rest in the last few days. He felt sympathy rising in his heart for her.

"They look so happy," he said softly.

She jumped slightly having not heard him come up behind her. "Yeah," she replied subtly. "It's hard to believe that that was taken only last year."

"Riley she…" he trailed off, looking up at her picture once more.

"What?" Lily questioned gently.

"She looks so, so different now," he said delicately choosing his words.

Lily nodded. She too knew the change that had come over her cousin, but she also knew why. She knew what had happened.

Lily turned away from the picture and wiped away a single tear that had newly fallen. She met Sirius' glance for a moment but then turned away for him too. She walked from the hall and through a door to the left. Sirius, not knowing what else to do, followed her into a large and elegantly furnished living room. She seated herself in a vacant armchair. He sat centered on an equally vacant couch. Neither spoke for a while.

Sirius looked at her. She held her head in her hands. He could not see her face. He did not speak, though he knew what he was itching to ask. He had been waiting patiently for a moment alone with Lily and now the opportunity had arisen. He knew she knew, and he wanted to know too.

"Lily," he said finally breaking the thick silence.

She looked up slowly.

"What happened this summer?" he continued tentatively, hiding his intense curiosity.

She scanned him with a mild discretion. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing really, it was just, um, something Dumbledore said a few days ago," he replied somewhat uncertainly.

"Dumbledore?" she raised an eyebrow. "What did he say?"

"Something about the summer, something happened, to Riley," he said.

Lily stared at him as if trying to read his intentions. He felt her eyes running over him. She seemed reluctant to speak again, to tell him what she knew. A few silent minutes passed. Finally she heaved a sigh. "Her father died this summer," she said somewhat unwillingly.

He blinked, rather stupidly he supposed, but it was all he could really think to do. It wasn't like he wasn't expecting it. In fact if he would have had to guess her reply, it would have been that. What else could have torn Riley apart like that? But somehow, to hear it, to hear the finality in Lily's words, it made the hard fact seem more real, more brutal.

Silence settled over the room once more like an itchy blanket. It was tense and uncomfortable. Lily had turned her gaze upon her feet and Sirius was awkwardly examining his hands. He knew he had touched on a bad subject. He could see the disinclination in Lily's features, hear the saddened memories in her voice. He knew this was a painful memory, but it was one he wished he could share.

"How?" he asked uncertainly.

"How what?" Lily echoed his tone.

"How did it happen?" he elaborated cautiously.

Lily gaped at him. Her expression did not have a name. It seemed to house a certain resentment in its grief though. Her eyes held to his own and she sent forth a message of intrusion. "Why?" she inquired strongly.

Sirius felt slightly taken aback by her harshness. "Sorry," he muttered breaking her gaze.

Her face softened as she heard his apology. "No, its okay," she said dolefully. "It's just…it's just that…it's hard Sirius. You don't understand."

He looked at her. "That's exactly what Riley said."

Lily looked at him. "What did she say?"

He turned his eyes back to her. "That I can't understand…that I can't help. God I don't even know what she is talking about." He closed his eyes for a second and the scene by the moon lit lake flooded back to him. It seemed like years had passed since that heart breaking night, yet it had only been days. The wound Riley had dealt him still lay fresh in his heart. It hurt so much. He wanted her so bad, but it seemed as though he would never have her. And that was the most painful blow of all. "I don't understand her."

Lily looked at him and found her own understanding. She could see the hurt in his eyes, the love in his heart. This was cruel. She could see it, the pain, the wounds. This love was merciless.

"I don't even know whether she…she even loves me…" he sighed into his hands

"Sirius," Lily said hardly above a whisper. He looked up. "That's not true. You know it's not."

"She pushed me away! She doesn't want me!" he cried angrily before he could stop himself, the ache that had build in his heart finally bursting out.

Lily gazed at him with compassion, her own heart heavy. His face was buried in his hands and his breathing was sharp. He looked as though he may have started crying. It was odd to watch. She felt a burning desire to comfort him, to tell him it would be okay, but the words wouldn't come. So she watched, watched him in his pain, his grief, his rejection. She hadn't known.

"She does love you, Sirius," she said slowly after a time. He didn't look up. "I can see it in her eyes, every time she looks at you…she has never looked like that before. When she sees you she, she's happy. She hasn't had a reason to be happy for a long time…she loves you…I know you know that."

The tense silence stretched the minutes so they seemed like hours. Neither spoke. Sirius contemplated Lily's words. They were true, he did know. He could feel it in his heart that they were true. But still the wounds lingered. Why had she pushed him away? Why had she rejected him? Why couldn't they be together?

He nodded slowly. "I know," came a quiet and somber reply as his sad gray eyes emerged from his palms. "But why Lily? You know, I know you do. Something else happened. Tell me."

She scanned his face. It was so sad and so longing. He had never looked like that before. It broke her will and her heart, and led her to break something else. A promise she swore to keep forevermore.

"Her dad was…he was murdered."

Sirius' eyes widened. "Murdered?" was all he managed, his voice upset and leaden.

Lily nodded painfully. "It was horrible. Riley didn't eat of sleep for weeks after."

"Why?" Sirius asked with difficulty after a moment. "He was an auror. How?"

She shook her head. "I don't know."

He scanned her with subdued eagerness. "You have to know. Who did it?"

The look in her eyes was unbearably sad. "I really don't know. Riley has never told anyone exactly what happened."

"Well what did she say?" he asked slowly.

She sighed loudly into her hands. "All I know is Riley was there. She saw it happen…and-and she nearly died too."

Sirius stopped. His curiosity was quenched. "She nearly died?" The words hit him hard.

Lily nodded solemnly.

"Oh my god," he said somberly. "I never knew."

"She didn't want you to know," Lily replied sullenly.

"Well what about her mother? What happened to her?" he asked dejectedly.

"She's gone too."

Dinner that night was a somber affair. Riley, at Sirius left, was staring across to the wall opposite, mindlessly stiring the content of her plate about. Lily and her mother both were watching her apprihensively. Her uncle too kept throwing worried glances at his niece, hardly touching his own food. Sirius himself felt tension settling in the room. All were worried.

"Riley dear, aren't you hungary?" her aunt questioned concernedly.

Riley shrugged slightly.

"Please, Riley," Lily had a pleading look in her eye. "You promised you would eat."

"I'm not hungary," she said stifly.

Sirius scanned her face. It seemed to have lost its feebleness and replaced it with a harsh fierceness. Her eyes were cold, her resolve strong. She looked bitter and angry now. Her face was wintery and pale. Yet he could see her weakness. She was hungary, but she wouldn't admit to it. She would never admit to weakness and frailty. She had sewn herself a guise of resolution and she would not be swayed by pity and hunger. She was strong, even now in her grief. Her eyes told them everything.

The subject fell and silence covered all again. Sirius coughed slightly breaking the rigid quiet. He felt he had violated an unwritten law afterward. "Mum, will you please pass the salt," Lily had muttered equally as uncomfortable. Mrs. Evans had nodded in reply and met the request, then the hush was restored.

The meal passed in awkward disquiet. The dishes were cleared away and a large elegantly decorated pudding was set in their place. Sirius stared down at the dessert in front of him. He had managed to force down a few bites of the roast beef and potatoes that had been placed in front of him before. But his appetite had eluded him then and it had completely left him as he looked down at the strawberries and cream occupying his plate. He hadn't the heart to even take a bite of it. All shared his thoughts.

After what seemed like a long time Mrs. Evans finally sighed. "I guess I should clear this all away. No one is going to touch it." None objected.

"Henry dear," she said as she picked up his untouched plate. He looked up at his wife. "Have you decided you is going to read the eulogy tomorrow yet?"

Something passed over the table in that moment. It was like a wave of hurt awareness and call to brutal reality. Riley looked up as if there had been an explosion. Everyone's attention was turned to her. Her uncle's eyes told that his heart was black for fear of his niece. On the face of Emily Evans was etched an expression of one who had uttered profanity without thought and was now stuck with disbelief. Everyone seemed reluctant to speak again.

Lily's dad took the task upon himself. "Um, I thought I might do it," he said with extreme caution. "I don't really want to trust the task to anyone."

Riley scanned both with an inquiring discretion. Her eyes had softened in that moment. At the thought of her Mackenzie, her heart softened. "I'll do it."

Everyone looked at her knowing that her word was the last.

"Are you sure dear?" her aunt asked with maternal concern.

Riley nodded. "She was my sister. I'll do it," she replied with such a passionate finality that they knew they would not sway her.

"I just though it might be, hard, to talk to all those people about her," Lily's mum tried one last time.

"I'll be fine," came the resolved reply.

"Emily leave her," Mr. Evans put in with a weathered sigh. "She will do it. It is how it should be." He gave his niece a look of pained provision. And with a last subdued nod he exited the dining room.

Sirius couldn't sleep. He lay awake with his eye lids pressed firmly together, but sleep would not come. He rolled onto his side and then onto his stomach. Neither position brought anymore comfort. He sighed and turned again onto his back to stare up at the darkened ceiling. He knew sleep would not visit him that night.

Riley was on his mind. In fact she had never left his mind. Her eyes now burned his heart with grief whenever he looked at her. He could see something in them now, something that had always been there, but had gone unnoticed before. He could understand the hurt they housed and see the story, and the tale was sad and hopeless and terrible to read. Her dad had been murdered. It had been horrible. And she, only mere months before, had to witness that horrible thing. She had witnessed her father being killed, and had only just managed to escape herself.

Behind his eyes Sirius could picture a scene. Riley was clutching to the body of her father, life having just left him. He was yet warm, his eyes lay open and lifeless. She was weeping, her tears falling onto his chest. She cried out in pain and then again. She screamed "Daddy" but nobody answered. She shook him and shook him begging with all the love in her heart for him to wake up again, but she could not escape the brutality of reality, the ruthlessness that is life. He was gone and she was alone.

Sirius' eyes snapped open. His chest heaved slightly from the vividness of the picture. God it was cruel, more cruel that anything anyone should have to face. He felt a sudden stir in his heart. Why did everything have to be so painful? Why was life so vicious and unforgiving? Why was life so hard? He felt the sudden stir give way to anger, the anger that had been built up in his heart.

The memories of his own childhood now came flooding back. He saw Regulus' face, cold and dark. His father loomed behind, foreboding and heartless. He heard the hate filled cries from his mother. Why couldn't he escape? Why did they torture him even now? He had left them, but still they damaged him, still they beat him.

"You're worthless!" The cry echoed horribly through his aching head. He felt the sting of his mother's hand as she had slapped him. "You are foul. Nobody will ever want you useless boy." The words of his mother toyed with his mind. She had been spiteful and malicious. She held no love for her younger son. She had hated him. "Traitor, you are a shame to our proud name. I don't want you. You are a stain to the Black legacy."

"No," he mumbled subconsciously warding off the woman of his nightmares with his hand. But she advanced menacing and cruel.

"Scum, foul, traitor, worthless," the words came at him faster and faster, his head spinning.

"Stop it," he pleaded as if a young boy. "Please."

He could see into the depths of her eyes. They were cold. They were not the eyes of a mother. They were the eyes of an enemy.

He shut his own eyes trying to hide, trying to escape, but when he reopened them, his father was there.

"Fool," the word penetrated his entire body driving the bite of it deep. "Why do you bring such mockery to this family? We are proud. Perhaps I will have to teach you that. You are a Black, and you will act like one if it is the last thing you do."

And then it came. Lash upon lash, hit upon hit, the blows came and did not stop. He wept and begged and screamed, but he could not escape. He could not escape the pain. At the end he knew that his skin would be blackened with bruises, his body scarred forever, but it was not the physical wounds that hurt him. It was the thought, the knowledge that he was hated. This wound was one that time could not heal. This wound would burden the heart forever. This was the wound that hallowed his heart and mind. The lack of love, the pain of hatred, flowing through his veins and into his heart, was like a poison infecting him, changing him. He was different. He was not like them. He did know love, and that was why he hurt.

"Stop it!" Sirius screamed into the dark and empty room. He opened his eyes. They were gone.

He sat up sweating and breathing heavy. Anger and pain flowed through him like a river rushing out to meet the sea. He hated them, all of them. They were not his family, they never had been. He wasn't one of them, he couldn't be. Yet they had tried to change him, mould him and carve him into their likeness. They had hurt him and beat him. They didn't know love. But they also didn't know failure, and when he had not been changed they became more ruthless in their resolve. The beatings had come more often, more profusely, more painfully. But he would not break. It was not within him to break. He would not become one of them. He would not become a Black.

A heavy thud followed by the sounds of shattering glass suddenly drowned the room in sound. It took Sirius a few moments to realize it had been he who had thrown the glass across the room. He stared placidly at the wall opposite where there was a dent left behind where the glass made contact. The anger that pulsed through him in waves began to recede as he lay silent. The absurdity of what had just happened finally hit him. Yet still the room around him seemed somewhat surreal as his heart pounded in his chest. They had all seemed so vivid, so real. His bitter memories seemed reality for a brief moment.

He took a deep breath and slowly let the air fill his lungs. After a few moments he let it out again. He need air, fresh air. He threw off the covers and slid slowly from his bed. Pulling a sweater over his bare chest, he left the room and silently made his way down the hallway toward the stairs.

The house around him was deep in sleep despite his disturbance. He suspected that he hadn't gone unheard but everyone was too absorbed in their own grief to take much notice. He crept noiselessly down the darkened hall, still trying to wipe the memories from his mind. He could still hear the words of his parents echoing painfully in his head. He doubted he would ever be able to rid himself of the memories of their abhor.

Suddenly though he heard a different noise penetrating his mind, one that did not belong to memory. He heard the voiceless sobs issuing from a room to his right. It was the room he knew belong to Riley.

He stopped in his trek and listened painfully to the silent weeping. He felt his heart come alive with a cheerless throbbing. He hated hearing her cry. She didn't deserve tears and death. She didn't deserved this hurt.

He crept close to her door and knocked lightly. "Riley," he whispered lovingly. "What's wrong?"

His words met no reply but the continuance of the sounds of sadness.

"Do you want to talk?" he asked with deep compassion.

His question went again unanswered.

"Please, Riley," Sirius tried again after a few moments. "Let me come in."

No response.

"Okay," he said finally with a aching sigh, "we don't have to talk. But please get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a…a long day."

He made to turn away, and retire to his own bed, but something held him back. He looked at the door again. "I love you Riley," he whispered gently. "I'll be here for you."

Then he sank quietly to the floor and listened to the subdued cries. He stayed there for a long time.

She was so beautiful. Her hair was like finely spun strands of gold that gently framed her face. And her face looked angelic even though it was pale and colorless. He could see the vivid blue of her eyes staring happily out at him, even though their lids would never open again. She could have been only sleeping in that rigid black box, and for a brief tender moment it seemed she was. But reality doesn't hide its malice. She was dead. She would not wake. Ever.

He felt the taut grip Riley had on his hand tighten as she looked down at her Mackenzie for the last time. Her own face had reached a shade of white that looked ghostly. Tears stained her cheeks and ran down her face on to her black garments of mourning.

She did not cry out or shake with grief. Today she was strong, she had to be strong. She would not let herself look frail and weak. She would not show vulnerability and fragility to the people that surrounded her. She would not show it to Mackenzie. She had been a role model to her sister, and could not bring herself to be exposed in front of her. Even now, she was strong.

Sirius offered what little support he could. The whole thing was overwhelming even for him. He could not imagine how Riley had to feel. The church had loomed overhead as they had walked up the foreboding steps and into the vast entry hall. There they had met a crowd of people, of mourners. Each had offered their condolences, their pity, as an unwanted gift. They didn't know their ignorance. They didn't know the one thing that Riley truly wanted, the one gift she desired, would be gone forever. But she knew Mackenzie was not gone, not forgotten, not yet.

They had been taken to her where she lay unmoving. That was when reality hit, cruel and hard. That moment as they had looked down was the breaking point, but Riley did not break. Her will would not let her. She remained composed in her grief. But deep inside, in the one spot where weakness cannot be hidden, in her heart, she was screaming in pain, pain that would not go away. Her heart was breaking. Grief was taking its toll and no one but Sirius could see it.

The ceremony felt as if it would never end. Each minute seemed stretched into an hour, a day even. Nameless people each took turn to speak wordlessly in heartache and misery. But none could truly express the pain of this death as Riley felt it tearing at her heart.

Both were hardly aware. They did not sing the hymns. They did not hear the lone piper play "Amazing Grace" in sweet farewell to the lost child. They did not hear the heart filled speeches given or the words of mourning spoken by the minister. All Sirius could remember of that ceremony was Riley, and holding tight to her wavering hand, seeing the anguish in her eyes, and the remembering the vivid face of the one dead, knowing he would never forget it. Riley could remember nothing, nothing but the searing pain marring her from the inside out.

But both came to realism as the one thing they had been dreading finally came upon them. Riley was called forward to reads a eulogy for her sister in a final goodbye, before she was taken to the cold unfriendly cemetery to be lowered into the earth with the others who had gone.

Composure took over again and Riley walked rigidly to the front of the sanctuary. She let her hand fall slowly from Sirius' grasp and walked alone, with only inquiring eyes following her. She stood for a moment and looked out before her. The vast room was full of people; friends, family, kind, loving, and sad faces. But she did not see them. All she saw was blackness and death.

Her uncle had written the eulogy for her. He had given it to her that morning, saying that she didn't have to do anything she didn't want to. She was always surprised at how well he knew her. He always knew exactly what she was thinking, what she was feeling. Perhaps it was because they had shared the same experiences, the same pain. He had lost a sibling, a brother, her father. They had shared that death. And now Mackenzie had gone too. He had lost a daughter, and niece, she, a sister. And now they shared a bond through love and sadness, life and death. They shared a bond none could truly understand.

She unfolded the paper slowly and looked down at it. She read the first line and then the second, and then farther. She could feel her eyes filling with tears as she read the memories of her younger sister, and the qualities she possessed. She could see them falling from her face and staining the paper. She could feel composure leaving her as she read farther, seeing Mackenzie's cold lifeless face before her subconscious eyes. She could hear herself begin to cry louder and harder, but she could do nothing to stop it.

When she reached the bottom of the page, she looked up again at the people watching her. All looked distorted as she peered at them through her tears. They looked up at her with expectance yet concern. They watched as she took the speech in her hands again, refolded it, and placed in once more in her pocket. Then she spoke.

"You knew her," she said quietly. "You don't need me to tell you how good she was, how sad this all is…" Her voice was cold, her words harsh.

"She was too good!" she cried out suddenly. "She was too good for everything that happened to her. She didn't deserve it. I don't deserve it…no one does..."

Concerned whispers began to sound out across the room as she spoke. Not heeding them she continued. "Don't tell me that everyone dies. I know that…but Mackenzie shouldn't have died. She was too young, too curious, too kind to die…she never ever hurt anybody or anything, not once… how many of you can say the same thing? How many of you can claim innocence? How many of you can say that you do not deserve death?"

Her face was angry now, her eyes cold. Yet still tears fell from her cheeks. She scanned the room once again, and found a set of eyes that caught her own and held them. Set behind a pair of half moon spectacles, Dumbledore's eyes penetrated hers. Riley felt as if he was scanning her, looking into her very soul. His face was sad yet comforting. She felt that comfort entering her, and flowing through her. It began to pulse, reaching into her very depths. She felt her anger dripping away and grief dominating her once more. "Don't lie to yourselves," she spoke softly again wanting to say one last thing. "Everybody deserves death…but Mackenzie…didn't."

On the last word she broke her gaze with Dumbledore and began to run. She ran up the isle between the pews despite the worried response following her. She didn't look at anyone, she couldn't. She just wanted to get away, away from everything, away from the pain.

She dashed through the large doors and into the entry hall. It was empty and quiet and her sobs and deep breaths reverberated loudly off the walls. She sank to the floor with her face in her hands and cried openly and excruciatingly.

She didn't hear Sirius enter. He looked at her with unrelenting sympathy. She was so forlorn and lost, so miserable and broken. It was tragic to see her, or anybody, like that. He walked silently to her side and knelt beside her. She looked up at him and her eyes in their ultimate pain pierced a hole through his chest and into his heart. Their gaze felt like a knife slowly tearing his flesh, spilling his blood, cutting his heart in two. It was unbearable.

"She's gone, Sirius," she whispered, the note her voice held was more doleful than any that he had ever heard before. "She won't come back."

His own voice was lost deep within his chest, yet he knew it was his duty, his purpose to comfort her. He took her in his arms and pulled her in tight to his breast. Her tears fell silently onto his shoulder. He felt her heart beating painfully and the sharp jolt of her breathing. He knew he was bringing to comfort, no console, but he could do no more.

"It hurts, Sirius," she breathed lightly in his ear. "It hurts so much."

He understood.

Later that afternoon, as the icy wind ruffled through his hair, he watched Riley approach the fresh grave. She had refused to watch, watch her sister be lowered into the cold earth. But now, now she had a final goodbye to say.

She knelt with a painful elegance, a hideous beauty, before the square of brown soil, out of place in a field of green, and placed a single rose, the color of death itself upon the grave of a child. She lingered in that place silent and reflective as the wind whispered softly about her. None disturbed her, but one watched, watched her final parting. And then she stood again with grieved dignity and refinement, and whispered one last word to the winds. "Farewell, Mackenzie."

A.N.: And review please :)