I get along without you very well,
Of course I do,
Except when soft rains fall and drip from leaves.
Then I recall the thrill of being sheltered in your arms,
Of course I do,
But I get along without you very well.

I get along without you very well, Billie Holiday

Getting along.

I didn't have time for crying, or mourning. There was just so much to do. Now that the Ministry had finally accepted the truth, we had to move quickly, prepare for the war. There wasn't a time to mourn for Sirius. I couldn't afford that... no when there was Harry to worry about, and Hermione and Ron, and Molly was worried about Charlie and the kids, and I didn't want to remember the look on Andromeda's eyes when Tonks had told her.

Didn't want to remember her heart-breaking sob. Somehow it was louder than Mrs. Black's screams.

I didn't want Andromeda near at all. I could barely stand to be in the same room with Tonks, thankful that she could change her looks.

But Andromeda... Andromeda had Sirius gaze. The one that made it impossible for us - for me- to get angry with him.

She doesn't look so much like him, for it to be as painful as it is to look at her. There's the natural elegance that all the Black family - excepting Tonks- has, but that's it. Her hair is not black as his or Bellatrix, nor golden like Narcissa, but the way she tucks her hair behind her ear it's his. And her lips are the same as his, and her chin...

But mostly her eyes. They hold such a strange, such a love for liberty, for true, for living... I had forgotten how wonderful his gaze was. I really had forgotten. Azkaban stole that from - me- him. His gaze became haunted, sad an crazy. So it was good that I had forgotten it during those long, painful twelve years, because it wouldn't ache when I saw him again, missing my Sirius.

And then, Tonks came, and it hurt, because her eyes were so much like his... I could go on without him without problems, but to hear her laugh that was just the same, and to hear her mutter his name, and her jokes so like his... it hurt to see her when he was alive. It killed to see Andromeda when he was...

No, I couldn't afford being near her.

Besides, it was silly and stupid for this death to affect me so much.

I had lived without him for years. I learned how to get along without him very well. This shouldn't mean anything. It shouldn't. It should be just a heartache for another missing friend. Not this emptiness inside.

We were just friends. We weren't... lovers. Not anymore. Not after knowing that he thought me a traitor, not after knowing that I believed them, the ones that said that he had killed his best friends. We just couldn't, because memories would turn bitter, so we never mentioned them. Once or twice he tried to talk to me about it, but I didn't allow him.

There wasn't time for an old silly romance. Not now. I thought that maybe later, after the war...

We were just beginning to be friends again. We needed to learn to forgive twelve years of hate and loneliness, and even if our arms ached to hold each other, even when I remembered the thrill of being sheltered in his arms, it wasn't anything. It was in the past, with Lily's touch and Jame's laugh and Peter's inocence. There was everything that I held dear to my heart, and nothing, nothing could touch it.

It didn't matter that he had died. I had already killed him in my mind, when professor Dumbledore told me about Lily's, James' and Peter's death. Better dead than in Azkaban as a traitor, so I never, never thought about him. Not even when soft rain fell and dripped from leaves, remembering me when he would drag me out of the Common Room, laughing when it was raining, saying he wanted to dance, or when in spring he would take me flying. I never, never thought about him, and kept myself from remembering everything.

I can get along without him very well. I learned how to do it.

The thing is.... I don't want to.