2] Skyfall [Harry Potter Fanfiction/James Potter Returns]

Chapter 1: Sky Full Of Song

How deeply are you sleeping or are you still awake?
A good friend told me you've been staying out so late
Be careful, oh, my darling, oh, be careful what it takes
From what I've seen so far, the good ones always seem to break.
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Ever had the feeling you were being stabbed right in the heart? As if a hole was left there that simply can't be filled again, despite the laughter, the humour and the smiling. I would invite you to cautiously imagine that hole duplicated, enlarged and impossibly greatly infected.

Ever loved someone, or thought you did, so much that it hurt to even spend a second without them, no matter the ridiculousness of the situation? The very idea of your life going on without them was ludicrous? Once again, try to imagine spending the rest of your life without them.

You wouldn't want to.

Ever felt you were utterly alone, despite the fact there were people around you keeping you company? There is something to be said about loneliness; most can survive it, though few would thrive to their full potential with it. Imagine living alone for the rest of your life, alone and impossibly lonely.

It would seem an easy feat, but I encourage you not to believe so.

Imagine being stabbed in the heart multiple times, losing the one you thought you couldn't live a second without for the rest of your life, and living all alone for the rest of eternity.

Humans are a curious thing; they can almost survive anything and yet a broken heart, loneliness and grief would be their Achilles heel.

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Some presumed he had recovered, however one can recover from years of unjust imprisonment in Hell on Earth. Others said he went mad with grief, as one would when guilt was their most frequent companion. However, no one could possibly know, but for a small few that most of were dead, that Sirius Black would never be the same again; when losing pieces of yourself, your heart and your soul throughout the years it is an impossible feat to seek to recover them, you can only learn to live with the remaining pieces and hope you'll see your end with whatever you have left.

His jokes were an insulting shadow of his comedic pieces. His laughter had become bitter and a short living thing; that was under the presumption that someone or something would manage to make him laugh. He had gradually become more bitter and restless, and although fourteen years had passed to the day his life had met its downfall, he could forget nothing. It was the burden of guilt; everything was worse in his head.

Of the many tragedies that struck his now wilted life, losing James Potter –a brother in all but blood, Sirius would always thank God for that- would always remain the highlight of the travesty of his existence.

On the day that would mark the fourteenth anniversary of his friends' murder, it was only expected that his miserable mood would take a darker turn. Halloween, a holiday dedicated to remembering the dead; saints and martyrs, was a time he found himself unusually quiet. Not that he spoke much, but on a day such as that even his thoughts would be silenced and the only noise echoing in the lonely and dark home of his ancestors would come from the hippogriff in his mother's room keeping him company.

For a brief moment, Sirius risked drawing back the curtains of the room to catch a glimpse of the children running along the streets, all dressed up for Halloween with their treats and cheerfulness. His father detested the Muggle children who ran the streets on Halloween, but Sirius loved watching them; as a child locked up inside with his brother, and as an adult locked up inside in hiding with his guilt.