Sirus stood at their graves. His fingers danced on their tombstones. He knew he shouldn’t be there, he knew what was at stake but he didn’t care. He had to see them one last time. Compared to the other graves in the cemetery of Godric’s Hollow, Lily and James’s graves were pristine. Sirus bent down and read the inscription: the last enemy that shall be destroyed is death. Death; dead. It was his fault that they were dead; if he hadn’t of been so keen to make...that rat their secret keeper then they would still be breathing; cradling baby Harry in their arms.
“I’m so sorry,” Sirus said to the graves. Tears threatened to break. “I never meant for this to happen. Because of me you will never see Harry take his first step, or ace his first exam or pull his first prank.” He wept. He didn’t weep for himself, nor did he weep for his personal loss, no, Sirus wept the tears that James and Lily couldn’t cry themselves. Sirus stood to his feet. “IT’S NOT FAIR!” he yelled to the higher power in the sky, “THEY WERE TOO YOUNG TO DIE!” The higher power did not answer him. Falling back to his knees, Sirus put his head on James’ tomb and wept again. He didn’t know how to feel: guilty? Angry? Vengeful? Sad? He had so many emotions running through his blood that they had all mixed together to form one great mess. Sirus called it regret. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so, sorry. It’s my fault you’re both dead,” he gasped through his tears.
The church bells nearby began to ring. It was midnight. Sirus bade the bells no attention. He curled his hands into tight fists and clenched them until it hurt. He didn’t notice the blood dripping from his hand until he glanced down. It was in that moment that he swore death to Peter, a vow made in blood. Letting out a deep breath, Sirus stood his feet and ran his fingers through his hair.
‘Straighten up solider,
’ he told himself. “I’ll look after him guys,” he promised, “I’ll look after Harry. I’ll promise that he’ll grow up loved and that no harm will come to him. I’ll be a good godfather. Harry will be loved, I’ll make sure of that.” Pushing his hair out of his face, Sirus unsheathed his wand and conjured up two Lilies. Normally he would have smiled at the irony but tonight was not a night for smiling. With shaky hands and nothing else to give, Sirus placed a single Lily on each of the graves.
“Goodbye Lils, goodbye Prongs, it will never be the same without you.” He touched the tombstones-heads. Sirus thought he felt something brush against his hand. Dismissing it, he turned and walked away. He had only taken five small steps away from the graves before he turned back. His eyes were still wet with tears.
“It was good while it lasted wasn’t it?”