Reflections

The stars will cry the blackest tears tonight

Harry's world was turned upside down ever since Sirius had gone through the archway at the Department of Mysteries. Nothing seemed right.

And this is the moment I live for. I can smell the ocean air.

He was supposed to be relieved. Everything made sense since he had heard the prophecy. Harry should be happy. He shouldn't feel as confused as he was now. It was like the world had been turned upside down, and no one felt it in its entirety but him.

Here I am, pouring my heart onto these rooftops. Just a ghost to the world. That's exactly what I need.

Harry would give anything to be just your average person caught between the struggle of two powers, one good and one evil. He wanted to not feel anything, to be numb, to be normal. But he wasn't.

From up here the city lights burn, like a thousand miles of fire, and I'm here to sing this anthem of our dying day.

Harry could feel himself slipping into a deeper black, down to the depths of the ocean. Who cared what would happen if he sank down any further? The farther he traveled into the crevasse, the closer he was to Sirius.

For a second I wish the tide would swallow every inch of the city as you gasp for air tonight.

He was willing to do anything to make Sirius come back. Of course, nothing would make him come back, so what was the point?

I'd scream this song in your face if you were here. I swear I wouldn't miss a beat because I never have before.

Dumbledore was right, Sirius wasn't the first person he had lost to Voldemort. He lost his parents when he was only a baby. He survived it then, but Harry wasn't sure he could do it again.

From up here the city lights burn, like a thousand miles of fire, and I'm here to sing this anthem of our dying day.

He couldn't do it this time. Not alone, like he was now. Before, Harry had not known what had happened; he was to young to fully understand what had happened to him. He could now.

For a second, I wish the tide would swallow every inch of the city, as you gasp for air tonight.

He would get Voldemort back for this. Nothing would stop him. Voldemort and his followers had killed his mother and father, as well as the closest thing he ever had to a parent in the past 14 years. Voldemort would go down, even if Harry had to go down with him. Harry would fulfill the prophecy.

From up here the city lights burn, like a thousand miles of fire, and I'm here to sing this anthem of our dying day.

Harry looked down on the castle from the North Tower, protected by his Invisibility Cloak. The windows were pinpricks of light from his altitude.

From up here the city lights burn, like a thousand miles of fire, and I'm here to sing this anthem of our dying day.

Note: I think I might be coming up with a sequel to this. It was fun to write.