Harry Potter oneshots

4: Broken

It was a cold night. The dark blanket called the night sky that covered the whole of earth seemed to be darker than usual but still clearer than ever tonight, letting the stars stand out and shine brightly, as if they were close. But no. They were just as far and just as out of reach as they were yesterday. Or any other day for that matter. But they were still beautiful... The harsh wind was producing one of the only sounds that could be heard in the silence of the eerie night. Leaves rustled from time to time and the animals awake occasionally made their presence known.

Everybody in the castle seemed to be asleep. Sucked into a world that either showed them the dreams they could only ever imagine and wish for or nightmares that left them sweating, panting and desperately trying to grasp hold of reality again. Only a few experiencing the bliss of a dreamless sleep or a normal dream while the rest suffered through sleepless nights.

Footsteps echoed in the corridors as a tired teen slowly crept his way through the castle that seemed to somehow be watching his every move. Even though he was under the invisibility cloak he checked the marauders map that he held in his hand several times. A few steps later he stopped to perform the Muffliato spell around himself, cursing himself for not doing it sooner he continued moving through the corridors. Soon he was at the castle's main doors, that he knew would be open, courtesy of Filtch's duty to check up on the aurors and visit Hagrid about something related to the forbidden forest. The said man would be back soon and so Harry slipped through the open doors before that could happen.

It was almost mid-night and no aurors seemed to be inside the castle's grounds. They were probably outside then Harry thought as he continued to move through the castle's grounds and towards the Black Lake. He soon reached the place and went over to the same spot he had seen his father, godfather and un- Remus sit at in the memory. He sat down leaning against the tree after casting a quick Muffliato around the place, starring up at the sky, deep in thought and waiting. He didn't have to wait long though. The giant grandfather clock soon sounded. The first bell. The second bell. The third and the last bell. There. It was mid-night now.

Harry looked up to the sky again, lifting his gaze from the ground to which he had let it drop. It was the 3rd of November now. A date that meant just another day to most people but not to Harry. To Harry, it was another day that reminded him of how alone he was and of how, for the most part, he didn't have anyone left now. Of how, the last person who was willing to be his family was no more here and of how, he was the reason that he was no more here. The thoughts threatened to fill his eyes with tears but he blinked rapidly so as to prevent that. He was not crying and he was going to try his best not to do so the whole day today.

Slowly opening his mouth, he started to sing. "Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you Sirius. Happy birthday to you. I've always loved you. I now miss you. But I hope you're happy now Sirius. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you." He finished softly. He had changed the lyrics a bit, sure. But he didn't think there was any point in saying 'May god bless you' to a dead man. Merlin, he missed the man. He wanted to scream and cry and tell him how much he missed him but he controlled himself. He said he was going to try his best not to cry, so he was going to do that.

After a few moments of silence, where he regained control over himself as much as he could, he spoke again. "Hey Sirius. It's been long since I've spoken to you- or well, at least it's been long since I knew you were actually listening. Cause I speak to you, like, whenever possible. But anyways, Happy Birthday Sirius! Merlin man, you've grown old. You're thirty seven years old now! Wow, you're a oldie pants. Or well, you would've been at least but let's not go there now." The fake cheeriness in his voice was evident and so was the pain behind the mask, but only to those who knew every part of him. He had learnt how to hide things well early in his childhood, thanks to the Dursleys. No, but really, thanks to them.