Weaver

"Ah, Moony, you are denying the deep and aching lake of lust my newly sparkly appearance caused to rise in your soul," said Sirius, but he clambered off the floor and brushed himself down. "Besides, it's pretty. Wanna touch it?" Remus, who seemed unaccountably disturbed, shook his head. "I have better things to do with my hands." Then he went bright red. "Not that I mean. Or um. I have a lot of. Assignments. Didn't do much over the break. That's all I meant." "You are a strange and twisted child, my Remus." Sirius touched his ear gingerly. "But we love you for it. I, being the spectacular, brilliant, amazing student that I am, have done all my essays already."

It's October 1981. War hangs heavily on the hidden wizarding community: in Godric's Hollow, the Potters are preparing to vanish. Angst, betrayal, pain, torture, and choc chip cookies feature heavily. Beginning on Wednesday 25th October 1981, each chapter of this fic will cover one day of the week of the Potters' Fidelius Charm.

Late at night, alone, she reads the letters. One day, she might write back... A tale of two sisters, driven apart by different worlds. A wish, a hope, a fantasy - for what might have been.

A story about friendship, about faith, and about what happens when everything between is blasted sky-high by Evil... Sirius and James and the bond they've shared since childhood, set to 3 Doors Down's Kryptonite.

It is a stormy Saturday morning in Harry's third year, and despite the rain the Gryffindor/Hufflepuff Quidditch match is going ahead. Perhaps Harry is the only one to notice Sirius watching from the stands - but Sirius notices everything, albeit through a haze of memory and misery. He sees the way Harry flies, and oh! how it reminds him of James!

When someone dies so young, the lives of those left behind are emptier. We often try to fill them with ideas, thoughts, memories, hopes, wishes... Harry has spent his life doing just that, and now he has to say goodbye at last.

Guilt-ridden, Sirius paces his narrow Azkaban cell, and around him a river of memories and regrets flows.