Padfoot

It was raining. Slowly ... surely...

Descending upon the earth in a translucent veil of water crystals. They caught the light, giving the scene a sort of mystical feel. It drifted around us, shifting in the different currents of air, twirling around in a vortex of liquefied glass. It was cool against my skin. It tempted to refresh those it grazed, clinging to the dark clothes and damp hair, sitting for a moment as if waiting ... waiting ... and then it was gone.

It was like that. Some things remained for a long time, and you knew that they would always be there.

But some things didn't stay for long. They merely came for a short time, teasing those who saw it, before vanishing just as quickly as it had come.

You were like that. You had been here for a long time; so long I believed you would never leave. You were one of those things that gave the impression of never leaving, but you were only giving the illusion of staying to put hopes up before shattering them on the basis of which they grew.

You were there for a long time before you left. I thought you betrayed me and I sat for a long time trying to figure out why you would do that sort of thing. You weren't capable of it. You weren't a traitor.

It was a hard time for me, sitting, waiting, thinking about all the things we did together. It was hard - thinking about you - knowing what you had done. Every single image I had of you was of you laughing. It just made it more difficult to see. I didn't want to believe it. That you were the reason I was alone - that you left and took one of our brothers with you.

I used to sit up at night, reminiscing on my life - our life - which we shared. I used to stay that way for hours, staring at nothing but watching memories in my mind. It was hard and it hurt so much.

But not once did I cry. I didn't like crying. It was a sign of weakness, and I already had too much to be weak about.

I still haven't cried. Even after you came back and proved to me all was right; that you were not the betrayer but the betrayed. I felt so guilty knowing that I never believed your innocence. I should have. We were brothers and brothers are meant to stay true to one another.

But it had been all fine. You were back, bringing with you the smile I had not seen in so long and feelings I thought long gone. We had fun together ... just like the old days. We were older - that was true - but we still strived to go back to the days when we were young and whole. When we were four friends - four brothers. The Marauders.

There are two of us left and it hurts me to say that you are not one of the last. It is me and the betrayer. The beast and the rat. And I the last of the loyal.

The rain.

It still falls.

It clings to my well worn face, filling in the creases on my brow. It runs along the hollows beneath my eyes - my eyes that hold so much pain. The land is hazy and I can barely see the other stones around me. But I can see yours. Sitting there, magnified by the rain. It is beautiful. There are not many people here to see you off, but the ones that are here are the ones who love you most.

I can see Nymphadora, head bowed, allowing a curtain of dark hair to cover a young though scarred face. She did not know you as long as I, but I can see it in her eyes just how much you meant to her. She is crying - brave, fearless Tonks - is crying.

Albus is here, Padfoot. He is wearing his most rich robes - midnight blue. The rain drops cling to it as well, as if it did not belong to one of the most honoured wizards of our time but someone like me. Someone like you. He is staring at something in the distance and I believe he is smiling. Faintly. For what, I do not know.

And there is Harry. Poor, young Harry. He came today to say farewell. He did not get to say goodbye although he wished so much to. He would have gone after you if I had let him. Brave little Harry. He would have followed you to death itself if I had not held him back. I knew if he had followed you that time, there was no coming back. He is growing up now to be so much like his father. But also so much like Lily. I can see her in him. In his eyes. He is looking across at the looming stone, with rain sparkling in his scruffy hair, and a sad look on his face.

He is too young for this. I wish he hadn't have come. But he has your stubbornness, old friend. He threatened to curse me if I didn't allow him to come. For that, I love him even more. His face is so drawn and gaunt, and his eyes - they are so sad. I want to comfort him but I don't know how for I have never been comforted myself. He looks so old standing there, Padfoot, not his young sixteen years. He has seen too much in too short of time, and this is only adding to his nightmares...

...and mine.

But I know he will survive this. He is so strong and brave. I wish I was more like him ... more like you. You both are so strong and I know, if you were here, I would be able to pull through. But you aren't here and I'm alone.

I will try to live on, Padfoot, to live for you. But how am I meant to with you having left again. I thought you would never leave me. I thought you would always be here. How wrong I was. They say those that you love never truly leave you, but they have never felt this hollow within. A pit of despair is growing inside and I don't think it will ever be filled again. That pit is the one you used to fill.

It will be forever empty. A reminder to what was lost - who was gone.

I promise never to forget you, and as I look out at your grave, the words of your tombstone flash out at me.

._.

Sirius 'Padfoot' Black

He was fearless when all others were scared.

He was strong when no other had strength.

He was there when no other was.

He was a hero.

Now and forever.

._.

The words...they are so truthful Padfoot. And as I read them, I remember all the times you were there. And I remember all the times when you helped me through the tough times.

Suddenly, I don't care that you left me all those years ago.

You came back.

After everything I did to you - I never believed the things you said and I gave up - you came back.

The words that Harry had given you are now fading on the white stone of your grave ... fading as the rain strengthened. I can hardly see the white flowers scattered about the dirt at my feet and the words that carry on the wind are unintelligible to my tortured ears. I see nothing but the grey curtain of falling rain and your face floating across my vision. I feel something burn at the back of my eyes and the first of many tears begin to fall.

I will miss you, Padfoot.

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