Hollow Tears

You laugh; the light flickers around you, controlled by your every move. Your head tilts back: emotion running freely from the delicately parted lips. Ebony hair slips over smooth shoulders, over the purest skin.

I can do nothing but watch - the beauty which is held by those emerald eyes is enchanting, enthralling. Beneath this exterior, I know, I see the honest truth. I see those blackened eyes; the weariness of your careful steps. You laugh and joke to fool those whom you adore, for fear of casting doubt upon your angelic soul. As I drink in your beauty, you can't hide it from me any more.

I worry about you, because I know you are lost, lost to us all.

Memory is cast back into almost long forgotten days, hazy and distant. I attempt to reel it in, to remember that day my eyes first connected with yours.

You lay there for dead, and we all feared you so. A strange, unknown girl lying there on our couch, in front of a fuming fire: your skin like the purest of ice, snow fallen at dawn. I was the first to enter, bounding down steps on an early Saturday morning, unaware, and happily so. You lay there, breath stunted and short. The sight of your frail body made me weak, pathetically so. My breath stopped with yours, my heart bursting with the pain you so obviously felt. It was only when my fellow friends appeared that my senses returned.

Remus was always the sensible one: the one who kept his head. He rushed to your side, oblivious of the magic you had so clearly enveloped me with. He checked your pulse, your dying breath and called me to his side.

"Sirius, we need Madam Pomfrey, now."

His face more serious than I had ever seen; grey eyes frantic. I did not pause, throwing myself out of the portrait cover and rushing to the hospital wing, furious for being so slow, despite the speed I was racing at. I could not clear your face from my mind.

We returned by floo, not willing to waste a second. The matron, a kindly lady, bent at your side muttering. Then next event I can never forget, ever.

Your eyes opened, and with them so did mine. It was as if I had never seen before, as though my eyes were cleared of years of lies and falsities. They spoke of so much, of pain, of fear and of amazing realisation. I stood there, enchanted. I was oblivious to the frantic calls of those around me. Only when the jewels flickered to a shut could I concentrate.

You're standing there, staring at me. The laughter has stopped and you sit beside me; hands twitching in your lap as you consider me. You do not speak, we long surpassed the need. Your forehead creases in the way it does every time you are concerned, your eyes do not waver from my face. Finally your voice echoes into even the tiniest of crevices in my soul

"Sometimes, it's best to forget."

My eyes tell you all that you need to know.

I can never forget.

"Sirius!" I stare straight at my best friend; his blue eyes concerned at my loss of control, his messy raven hair the same as always. I attempted a grin. Sirius would never lose control over a girl, never. It just wasn't in my character. Girls losing control over me? All the time... They sigh in the corridors as I pass them; a smile reduces them to heartfelt tears. It was laughable the way James had fallen so heavily in love with red-head Evans. I couldn't understand the idea of love, it would be so boring, so constrictive...But still you were stunning, amazing, I couldn't describe how you made me feel.

"I'm fine, honestly," I muttered to him. I couldn't exactly tell him that the great Sirius Black was reduced to a pathetic mush of emotion simply because a girl had opened her eyes.

Still he stood there, staring at me, knowingly. It was like he could see inside my head. I suppose so many years with somebody could do that to you.

It certainly did with us, didn't it?

"It'll be okay. Madam Pomfrey will look after her fine," James promised. I turned, I hadn't even noticed they had left; I had been so absorbed in my own thoughts.

I hear you sigh heavily, which brings me back into the present day; my heart still pumping heavily as I recall the fear I had felt so strongly all those years ago. My hand moves involuntarily to your cheek, the skin still as ice white as it was that day. Black kohl frames those mesmerising eyes, the lashes accented by make-up. Why you wear it, I have never understood. It is as if you wish to wipe clean who you are; each layer burning away your true identity.

But you've found the make-up no longer hides that, haven't you? The foundation does not cover those sunken eyes, the skin taught against your cheek bones. It cannot hide the fury in your eyes, the way your breath is sharp and held. Your mind is fighting your body and, for once, it is winning.

You disappeared for days. I visited the hospital wing in hope of a mere glance of your beautiful face, but you were never there. I even went to the stage of annoying Snivellus in the hope that he'd hex me - to give me a reason to visit the ward. I never did find out where you disappeared to: St. Mungo's, I suppose.

Come to think of it, we never did find out where you came from in the first place. Middle of third year: we'd never seen you before, then that one night you appeared on the couch, left for dead. No matter how we questioned you, you never told us. We gave up asking after a few years. I saw the pain in your face, every time we asked. You expression would go strangely slack, your green eyes almost burned with some emotion I could not comprehend, your chest heaving as you breathed, as if under some strong weight. None of us could stand to see you like that.

Finally, as I gave up hope of ever seeing you again, you returned; as suddenly as you had originally disappeared. You were sorted during dinner, sitting on the tiny stool, the appearance of a queen. You sat there, hugging yourself, arms tight and back bent forward. Your eyes darted frantically around the hall, a coloured flush rose around your cheeks - the first colour I had ever seen there. When the hat was placed upon your head you suddenly appeared so amazingly serene: your eyes closed and you breathed, heavily, deeply.

I couldn't breathe, not as you sat there. My whole body was shuddering involuntarily with the fear that you'd be taken from me once more.

You sat there for what seemed like hours. After a time your body began to rock back and forth, like a small child trying to comfort herself when she had no mother to calm her.

Eventually the hat spoke:

"Gryffindor!"

It did not scream the name, but simply spoke it. I had never heard that tone before. I shook that off, however - how could a hat have tones of voice?

As you sat at our table the usual roar of chatter took hold of the room, but you stayed silent. I do not know what you were concentrating on, but your aura could be felt pulsating throughout the table. You made no friends that night. You sat alone, preoccupied and silent: I watched you.

I have to admit it almost makes me grin to consider how out of character you made me. All of my life I had been forward, confident and open. But your presence changed a lot of things. You brought out the side of me that I had hidden for years whilst growing up in a family I could not stand; I hated you. I soon realised that I despised you; I despised every essence of your being. I was addicted to you - that I couldn't deny - but I hated the way you looked so lost, so alone. I hated the way you made me pathetically obsessed without even speaking a word.

Even worse, you accepted that hatred, you took it as the way things were and never confronted me about it. I wanted to fight with you, to scream at you and make you cry. You never did- fight that is- you cried, so often, so many times. Each time I sat there, you enveloped in my arms, whispering sweet nothings into you hair. It didn't comfort you, there was something going on so deep down inside that nothing I said could ever bring comfort into your world, but it comforted me.

The memories are hazy sometimes as my mind pollutes them with personal opinion and biased thoughts. I try to clear them away, to see how it actually was. I want to go back despite the pain it causes.

The first time you spoke to me, it was like nothing I could ever have imagined. Your deep, chocolate rich voice startled me from a restless doze.

"Sirius, right?" I nodded, staring intently at my un-started essay. I did not want to look her in the eye, knowing how it would make me feel.

"Ohm, can you tell me about this place, Hogwarts? Its...just..." she trailed off miserably. Startled, I looked straight at her, and plunged down into the abyss of hopelessness.

"Why ask me? Ask one of the seventh years, they know more about it," I told you harshly, fearing my voice would betray my cool, calm exterior. My heart almost broke when I saw the look on her face.

"Lily," she pointed to a figure bent over a pile of books, "reckoned you and James knew the most about this castle, because of the time you spend sneaking around it." She flashed a nervous grin at me, and I was lost; completely and forever.

The time is late now; the sun has completely disappeared leaving the room baked in moonlight, which has crept through a half open window. For the first time in a while your defences have come down and you're lying asleep with your head resting on my lap. We haven't been like this for such a long time now. Your eyelids flutter as the dreams you harbour disturb your much needed rest. I get the feeling you don't sleep much any more; perhaps you fear your dreams. I can't help but watch as your chest heaves up and down: toned stomach fluttering as the movement stretches the skin. I wonder how we let you get so thin - how we let you do this to yourself.

Your breath now rattles in your throat, as if breathing is a task your body cannot bear for much longer. I try to say your name, but it catches in my mind.

Isis.

You used to be so like your name sake: the Egyptian goddess -the great lady. I always thought it ironic that the symbol of Isis in the heavens was the star Sept otherwise known as Sirius, or the Dog Star. Thoughts of fate lead to memories which eventually will drag me back to where we once were.

I became the mentor, I took you everywhere with me, taught you the unwritten laws of the school. You became one of us - the Marauders - although Peter never took to you well. Your magical ability astounded us. Even Lily struggled to keep up and she was the brightest witch Hogwarts had seen for many years. I remember asking you one day in transfiguration as your transformed your school bag into a large dog, how you managed to do such tasks with little trouble. You simply replied to me,

"I never saw why I should. Magic is from the soul, like emotions are. If you truly believe in the magic you conduct, then it will pose no hurdles for you."

To me, magic was a way of life, and I had never any reason to doubt it, but then I didn't know anything else. You spoke, however, as though it was a gift, something which came from the almighty. Maybe that's why you were better than me.

Although I came from a pureblood family, from generations back, I insisted on knowing about muggles and their way of life. One summer, I looked up your name sake and was stunned to see exactly how much you two shared. On one drunken night with James I remember formulating plans about how you were the goddess of Egypt, as the great goddess of the underworld, as the giver of life. You always were my goddess; you fought back my darkness although I hated you so.

That hatred never abated, despite our closeness. I never forgave you for what you did to yourself. We would spend every evening together, heads bent close in conference on some form of magic, on politics, on the way things were. I've never talked about philosophy the way I did with you. You brought forward ideas and opinions that I had heard no-where else, ones that were educated and formed. I always lost those debates.

Other times we spoke of silly things, of sport and people. I remember that one time I took you on my broom. You hung to my back all the way round screaming for me to put you down. James, Lily and Remus fell in love with you once you opened up to them. Perhaps you were never as close to them as you were with me, but they appreciated you and thus earned your respect.

Your cold front was always startling to me, as it was not something that I had experienced much of. I always found a smile or a laugh to welcome me into your mind. For others you built a wall made of steel, reinforced with ice. I could never decide whether it was around your heart or around your mind.

After fifth year we gave up all pretence of simple friendship and you moved into my dorm, sharing my bed and warming my soul on the coldest of winter nights. No-one made comment of the situation as it was just assumed anyway. I think you were glad of that. Despite your front, you cared so deeply of others opinions. That was something I just couldn't get. To me, what others think is of little importance, unless they are close friends which I do not wish to lose. I've come close to losing them many times, so maybe I should have followed your example. Then again, I've seen the way its eats you up inside.

I remember the way in which you watched us with amusement as we gained detentions for numerous pranks. You never took part, seeing it as a task that was ours and ours alone. It's rare you find someone willing to see what they are and aren't needed for. The funniest time, I swear, was when Remus let you into his furry little secret. He shuffled his feet, and stared at the floor. James and I held our breaths, scared you'd flip. You lay there, wrapped in a sheet, propped up on an elbow and simply smiled. Then you grinned and said:

"Well just don't eat Sirius, else I'll have to start sharing a bed with you, and we all know how bad you snore." I've never seen Remus look so stunned, even when we didn't shun him for being a werewolf, he didn't look that amazed.

It always amused me that you agreed with James, that I had a better temperament as a dog and on numerous occasions you requested I remain a dog for the night to keep your feet warm.

Good memories; I have precious few. Even those that I had that make me smile, I can't stand any more. I just compare what you were, to what you've become. Where did we go wrong, when did it all change?

Maybe I wasn't good enough for you - maybe we weren't. You keep up the pretence and they just don't notice the change, but I do. How can I not?

You lie next to me in bed, but the sheets are cold. When I kiss those lips that have been there for me for so long, what do I get? - The taste of sulphur or of cold reptilian scales.

I stare at Lily and James' new born son, his eyes the same green as his mother's. They're still pure and innocent just as Lily's are. I hold him as my godson, rocking him back and forth as you lie there asleep. Whenever you hold him he cries. Your very touch is like acid to his skin.

I proposed to you that cold winter night, when the others were out causing trouble. I'll never forget the look on your face when I gave the ring to you. It was gold and silver intertwined with emeralds submerged between the metal, sapphires gleaming from their sides. The ring cost me a fortune but I knew you'd love it. You sat there staring, my heart beating so painfully waiting for your response.

Picking up your wand you wrote in fiery letters upon the air:

Yes

That moment I came the closest I ever have to feeling the same as when I first saw your stunning eyes. I just sat there, in your arms, weeping silently through your silky locks. You kissed me that night, like I've never been kissed before. Lily told me that for days after you'd just sit there fiddling with you ring as if enchanted by it.

The ring is no longer on your finger, but on a chain around your neck hung with the strange hourglass piece I have never once seen you take off. My own ring is plain gold intertwined with silver, but lacking the jewels yours is encrusted with. Peas in a pod - man and woman - James used to joke.

As you moan and mutter in your sleep, I'm weighing up the situation. Your body is emaciated, you soul is tainted. What made you turn I have no idea.

The wedding was amazing; you were sheathed entirely in creamy silk. Diamonds glittered from within material, a trail was held by six little girls dressed in the finest red velvet. Roses poured from the sky, matching the blood red of your carved lips. I stood there, unable to move as you walked slowly towards me, bearing the arm of Dumbledore. Standing you next to me, he moved off and bowed. The ceremony began: Silver circled your entire body, and then included me until we were surrounded by swirling mist. It was as if the world itself was blessing our union.

I wanted nothing more than a child with you and to spend the rest of my life in your arms. I had never imagined me, Sirius Black, wishing that with anyone but I could not bear the thought of spending any time without you.

As it is, I've been without you for the last three years. My decision is made; my thoughts only lead one way.

I remove your wand- twelve inches, silver birch with dragon heartstring, flexible- from your grip. Pointing it at you I mutter Stupefy.

I remove the ring from around your neck, and place it with mine on a small golden chain which I slip over the sleeping Harry's neck.

Picking up a small, dirty mirror I mutter to those on the other side; numerous men in swirling cloaks apparate inside the room: I say my last farewell.

I remember the first time I realised you were no longer loyal. The taste of Him was upon your skin. The icy blast of your touch was no longer laced with silk. You were meant to be the fighter of the darkness, but now it had consumed you.

I never stopped hating you.

Not once: for what you did to yourself, and now for what you did to me.