The Passings

"No brave man, nor brave man-and-woman's, life goes for nothing in this world- in spite of appearances." -William Ernest

Sirius Black jumped of the bike before it properly stopped. It rolled and fell against one of the standing walls of the ruined house. He ran, almost tripping over the wreckage, towards Hagrid's looming figure, sitting in the remains. He heard it then... crying...

"Hagrid-" he began, but stopped short, seeing the tiny boy in the large man's arms. "Harry," Sirius whispered. The toddler was dirty, weeping furiously into Hagrid's warmth.

His parents were dead.

"Oh, Harry, Harry..." Sirius tried to console the boy. He kneeled in front of Hagrid to be closer to Harry's level. In an attempt to comfort his godson, he stroked the boy's cheek, futilely trying to straighten the ratty, black wad of hair. But his hand shook as badly as the crying child did; it was no good.

"How did he...?"

"I dunno," Hagrid rumbled quietly. The huge half-giant's cheeks were shining with tears. He gently brushed the lightning-shaped scar on Harry's forehead. "Voldemort found them." He stated the obvious.

Black's insides burned. "Where? Where are the bodies?" He began to look around, turning over boards.

"Sirius-"

Black saw James then, half covered, dirty, unmoving. He crawled over to the little. His arms began shaking badly as he cradled his best friend's head. He closed the dark brown eyes, which had been wide open in a sort of shock.

Never. Never would those eyes smile at him in laughter or glow while gazing at Lily. "Oh, God," he said, running his fingers through the black hair. James was dead; he was gone, and Black couldn't help him.

He couldn't change it, couldn't turn back time and fix his mistakes.

"James," he spoke to the body, his voice breaking. "James, how can I-?" He sobbed and then caught himself. It wouldn't help to cry. Nothing would help.

And it was his fault.

"Sirius, nobody coulda' done anythin'." Hagrid's warm hand was on his shoulder now.

"I could've, Hagrid. I should have-"

"Don't ya go doin' that ter yerself, Sirius," Hagrid's voice was gentle. Sirius pulled in a shuddering breath. Suddenly, his eyes caught something.

Hair- hair the orange color of fire. Lily. He remembered James, drunk with love for her; their faces, shining as they toasted their future; Lily, crying with joy as she handed James their child- their beautiful baby boy. They were radiant, smiling, and beautiful beyond words that he knew to describe it. Nothing could fill him the way their happy warmth did. They were everything, everything he wanted....

His heart broke.

Harry's breathing was even now. He was sleeping.

Sirius opened his arms, let James's limp body fall...

He groaned and leaned back on Hagrid for support. He had never had his chest ripped open like this before. It hurt like hell. Mentally, he pulled himself together.

"I should take Harry." He straightened, turned to Hagrid (still sitting).

"No," Hagrid said, "I have orders from Dumbledore. He's goin' ter live with his aunt and uncle."

"I jus' can't," Hagrid shrugged.

"You can't give him to those nasty Muggles, that's what you can't do!" Black held out his arms. "Come on, Hagrid. Please. I'm his godfather."

Hagrid shook his head rather sadly.

"James trusted me. Why doesn't Dumbledore ever trust me?!" It was so obvious: he should be the one to take Harry. He was kneeling before Hagrid, his arms stretched out.

"Dumbledore wouldn' do this fer no reason, Sirius. You have ter trust 'im."

Sirius slowly let his arms drop back to his sides. He looked down at the baby. Lily's eyes stared unexpectedly back up at him.

"You could've had the best parents in the world, Harry. They were the best people I knew," he told the child.

But, no. It was all shattered.

Avada Kadavera. It was too damn easy. One moment. The weakness of one, stupid, man...

All because of the greed, the cowardice, and the idiocy of one stupid man, they were dead.

'I'll kill him for it,' he thought. 'I'll kill him.'

"Take my bike, Hagrid," he said, not looking up at the person he spoke to. "I won't need it anymore."

"Oh. Thanks, Sirius. If there's anythin' you need... jus' ask."

Sirius's hand wandered blindly to grasp James's cold, dead, hand. "There's nothing, Hagrid. There's nothing you can do for me."

His whole body was a void, a black nothing.

Hagrid got up, walked carefully over the ruins of a perfect home. He could hear the bike start... and fly away.

Sirius's teeth gritted together.

And the void was filled with his anger.