Picture

by tweeny-weeny

I remember that picture, that picture, that day, after that night. The night my, admittedly less than perfect, world came crashing down. Sirius reflects on his wanted poster.

That Picture.

Summary: I remember that picture, that picture, that day, after that night. The night my, admittedly less than perfect, world came crashing down. Sirius reflects on his wanted poster.

Disclaimer: As always, I do it for the lack of sleep, the strange ideas in my head and so I can write little disclaimers reminding me that all of this is unreal and does not belong to me.

I remember that picture, that picture, that day, after that night. The night my, admittedly less than perfect, world came crashing down. More than crashing. My world crashed down, the pieces were torn up, incinerated, the ashes fed to a vulture and the faeces strewn over the harshest landscapes of the earth destroying most of my shrivelled heart.

That picture, ironically, shows me at my maddest, my last night as a free man and I was as mad as a hatter, as mad as Moony on the full moon, as mad as Peter Pettigrew was when he betrayed us; destroyed us.

That picture haunts my dreams, and now that picture which appeared from no where as I drank and cried and screamed by curses and laments to the ravaged heavens is everywhere I go; a constant reminder of my past, my own horror story, my own tragedy.

Lest I could forget.