Summary: It takes a lot not to show your grief over a man you've known most of your childhood. To say goodbye is the hardest thing of all.

Sitting with my head in my hands on the bed next to the Hippogriff, Buckbeak who is crunching some bones noisily next to my ear, I think about what might have happened had he not followed Harry to the Department of Mysteries.

He could have been here now, laughing, scolding me and telling me not to worry so much, to take it easy. He could have been with Harry now, talking with him on the mirror I know he kept even after we had all left Hogwarts and there was no need for him and James to talk to each other in secret in detentions.

Both of them equally as unlikely because I know in my heart he would never have stayed idle whilst his godson was in mortal peril, a living reminder of his dead best friend, the one he felt he betrayed. He was chafing at his invisible bonds whilst staying in this house, the place he loathed so much, with memories he despised remembering.

I wish he was here now.

It seems selfish and perhaps it is, given how unhappy Sirius was in this place, but not only for me but also for Harry, do I wish for some respite. He hasn't talked much since, for which I cannot blame him for I too, have not been able to. The pain chokes me, blocks my throat and I can't speak, can't breathe whilst the tears rise and the grief tries to overwhelm me.

I can't say goodbye.

I must. I know I have to otherwise I won't emerge from the darkness that swallowed me as the Void swallowed Sirius. I have to get out.