How so you leave the past behind when it keeps finding ways to get to your heart?
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He stared after the retreating ghost. Another shadowy presence was taking it's place. This one had a smile on it's face, a smile that looked back on a bitter life and found joy in simply having lived. Then the smile faded and his godfather began to speak.
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I ran up to the house that night, too late. They were already dead. I'd never seen James sit still; even when he slept he was always tossing and turning. And yet there he was, so still.
In Azkaban I wanted to forget everything. I wanted to forget the war, Voldmorte, the whole world. G-d help me I even wanted to forget your parents, James and Lily, and Remus. I couldn't, somehow, some way; they all kept coming back to me. At first I thought it was just the dementors tormenting me. But I didn't want to leave the past behind. Some part of me still knew that if I forgot the pain I was in, if I forgot the people, then I would forget everything that really mattered in my life. When I saw Peter's picture in the paper I though I was living to kill him. What I really wanted was my life back, I wanted my friends back. I discovered that what I was really living for was not revenge, but justice. I knew that you would be lonely. I didn't really have any parents either. It wasn't right that the good people should suffer and the wicked should prosper. The ones we loved, even if they're dead, they're the ones that give us the strength to go on and keep fighting. We live through the past.
I remember the first time I ever saw you. You were such a tiny little red thing that kept screaming. Your dad just sat there stunned. He had no idea what to do with you. I think he was a little afraid of you. But when Lily held you, you calmed down. The way your father looked at her, like she was some kind of goddess, I can't forget it. I confess I didn't hold you. I'm not sure she would have trusted me to.
Before they went into hiding I saw you almost every day. One day your dad dressed you up like a little quidditch player and put you on this tiny broomstick… You couldn't have been more then 5 months. Lily screamed at him when she found out, even though he held on to you the entire time. And then they were gone and you were gone and there was nothing left.
Coming to that house that night was the hardest thing I ever did. I didn't want to go… to see… I pulled you out of there and gave you to Hagrid. Then I ran. I should have stayed, but I didn't. Your father could have told you I was never one for thinking. Maybe if I had been he could have. But look at you now. Just look at you.
I guess what I'm trying to say here is that we all have trouble. We all go through this life thinking we're so terribly alone, when really everyone around us is feeling the exact same way. So if we all are alone then aren't we really together? That doesn't make much sense, does it? Well look at it this way; the dead have the dead to look after them. You go and worry about the living. Don't be too proud to ask for help. Now I want you to get up, walk out of this graveyard, and get on with your life. Good luck.