Drowning For You - Marauders

The Story Of The End

It was dark. Very dark. The cold seemed to seep into the bones of the structures.
The structure worst affected by the sudden coldness was 12 Grammauld place. The Noble House of Black. A house that used to host lavish parties, unforgettable events, now cold, empty and hollow.

The heir of the Noble House of Black sat in a chair next to the roaring fire. Even with the heat of the flames he felt the cold seeping through his flesh, almost knocking the breath from his lungs.

It wasn't the outside that made the once grand structure cold, it was the memories, the pain the heir endured within the walls, the pain permanently lodged in his heart. He sat in his pajamas still, a black silk set that was a younger version of himself's. He found it the first night he stepped foot in the desolate palace, searching for remnants of memories long forgotten. After he found his old silk set he started combing through the house for more. Anything to help keep the memories fresh. He knew it wasn't a good idea, he knew he'd only hurt himself more each time he found a shard of what was left of those days. Simpler days. He could almost laugh at that joke, it was never simple, but there was less on his shoulders. Less of a burden. He had people who shared his burden, not one of them more important than the other.

It was during one of these restless nights that he embarked to find a single item. That single item meant more to him than this big mansion combined. A piece of a previous life he barely remembered when he's awake. But when he sleeps, during those few hours he spent completely numb to his existence, he remembered everything. He remembered the balls, the clothes, the friends. He remembered the times he had with them, as if watching his whole life unfurl like a film infront of him. But the moment in that film that always caught his attention, his breath, was emerald eyes. Her eyes. It would be only a few moments that his mind was gracious enough to award him before it woke him up violently after he saw smiling eyes turn to terrified pools of molten gems.

Every time it's the same thing. After the final time, he embarked on his mission to find that special memory he kept hidden in the mansion many years ago when he escaped with a rush for his life.

He searched and searched, tore the walls apart looking for that item, after days of breaking the palace into shards of it's former self , and his heart apart he finally found it. The last memory he held so very dear to his heart. A photograph. A single piece of film that had his life surrounded by four corners.

The heir sat infront of the fire, admiring the photograph, the four people in it, with tears in his eyes. His best friends' smiling faces looking back at the camera lense, laughing, smiling, being happy before it was all ripped apart.
Remus Lupin, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew and Aurora Grindewalt. His Aurora. Their Aurora.
They all loved her in their own way. She loved them all in her own way. They shared a love, you see, well except for Peter, she never really did take a liking to him. The love between the four of them held the photograph together, the four corners of the photograph, she was the glue that held them together. She was their everything, until she was nothing.

Sirius Black, the heir to The Noble House of Black cried for the first time since she left them. He sobbed, gut wrenching screams exited his lungs as he doubled over the photograph. He screamed into the hours of the night, mourning his loss, their loss.

______

"Sirius!" Harry ran to his godfather, crushing him in a hug. "Harry, my favorite godson, I've missed you!" sirius replied, keeping a firm arm around Harry.
"Padfoot, I'm offended. You never seem that happy to see me. Honestly I thought our relationship was on the same page, but it seems this love is one sided, " James Potter, his best mate, said with mock hurt. Sirius laughed and hugged James as tight as he could. Both needing the comfort of each other after not seeing each other for weeks.