a/n-my first songfic, tell me what you think.

a/n2-do you have any idea how hard it was to write this without using J.K.'s words?

Disclaimer-I don't own Harry Potter. Nor do I own the song You'll Be In My Heart by Phil Collins.

You'll Be In My Heart

Something wasn't right. Sirius could just feel it. Something bad was going to happen tonight, but what?

Without a second thought, Sirius left his house, got on his motorbike and flew off to Peter's hideout. If something was going to go wrong, Peter had probably been found out.

As soon as he landed, Sirius hopped off the bike and strode up to the tiny house. Upon opening the door, he found it totally empty. No one was there. But there was no sign of a struggle, so where had Peter gone? It was Halloween, so Peter wouldn't have gone outside. He was scared of all those silly costumes muggle children wore. His mother thought he was on some trip, so he couldn't have gone back home. So really, there was only one explanation.

Peter had betrayed them all.

Sirius' blood ran cold as he neared what had once been his best friends' house. The Potter home was almost completely destroyed. With shaking limbs, Sirius landed the bike once more, and got off. His wobbly legs took him to what had once been the front door. Now, only splinters of wood remained.

Finally, his legs collapsed. Half the house was in ruins. There was no possible way any of them could have survived.

Suddenly, Sirius heard a noise. He looked up, but no one was there. There it was again! It was the sound of a young child crying.

Harry! Could he have made it?

Come stop your crying

It will be all right

Just take my hand

Hold it tight

After digging through the mass piles of wood that had, just hours before, been the little house Lily and James had been so proud of, Sirius finally found the young boy.

He was sitting on the ground, in the splintered remains of his crib. Sirius stopped dead when he saw Lily's lifeless body lying just in front of it. Taking a deep breath, Sirius deftly stepped over her body and over to the crib. Harry looked up when he heard the noise of Sirius walking.

"Padfoot!" Harry cried, his tear-stained face brightening a little bit as he held out his arms to be picked up.

I will protect you

From all around you

I will be here

Don't you cry

"Hey there, little guy." Sirius said, picking Harry up and shielding his face from the view of his dead mother as he walked back out of the room, or what was left of it.

As the two left the ruins of the home, Sirius spotted the still body of his best friend. He would have lost it right then, if it hadn't been for the boy in his arms. He had to stay strong for Harry. Sirius was the only one he had left now. Thanks to Peter, and Voldemort.

Almost as soon as they were back on the front lawn, someone apparated onto it.

"Who's there?" Sirius questioned, whipping out his wand.

"Sirius?" A gruff voice answered. "Tha' you? It's Hagrid."

"Oh, it's just you." Sirius said in relief, lowering his wand.

Hagrid stepped out of the shadows. His eyes were brimming with tears.

"Are they-Are they d-dead?" Hagrid asked.

Sirius bowed his head in answer. Hagrid made a loud sniffling noise, and the tears overflowed from his eyes.

"I'm taking Harry with me." Sirius announced. "I'm the only one he's got left now. Besides, I'm his godfather."

For one so small,

You seem so strong

My arms will hold you,

Keep you safe and warm

Hagrid looked up at this. "I'm sorry, Sirius, bu' Professor Dumbledore, he sent me to fetch Harry for 'im. He says…well, he says Harry's ter go ter his aun' an' uncle's house. To live there."

Sirius looked at Hagrid in horror. "But I'm his godfather." Sirius protested. "I was supposed to look after him if anything happened to his parents. Even Lily agreed to it!"

"I'm sorry." Hagrid repeated. "But it's Professor Dumbledore's orders."

Sirius looked down at the little boy in his arms in defeat. Harry was sitting there so peacefully. The tears had stopped now, and he was playing with the clasp on Sirius' cloak.

"I guess I'll just have to listen to him, then." Sirius finally said. He looked down at the little boy once more. "I'll miss you, Harry. Make sure you're a bad boy for your aunt and uncle, now."

So, trying not to cry himself, Sirius handed Harry over to Hagrid.

This bond between us

Can't be broken

I will be here

Don't you cry

The next day, mear hours after Sirius had seen Harry for the last time, he was standing in the middle of a crowded muggle street, and his wand was pointed right at Peter Pettigrew.

"Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?" Peter sobbed.

Sirius laughed hollowly. "How could I? I didn't do anything. YOU were their Secret Keeper. How could you betray them like that?"

With one hand still behind his back, Peter made a motion as if to reach for his wand.

"Don't move Peter!" Sirius shouted, just as the street blew up.

When the smoke cleared, the only thing left of Peter was a pile of bloodstained robes. Sirius started laughing, this really maniacal laughter. And he continued laughing, even as the Aurors arrived and carted him off to Azkaban.

As Sirius laughed, he just thought about Harry, and how, because of the little runt of a wizard Sirius used to call a friend, Harry no longer had any parents.

'Stay strong, Harry.' Sirius thought to himself. 'I'll get out one day, and we'll be together again. I won't forget you.'

'Cause you'll be in my heart

Yes, you'll be in my heart

From this day on

Now and forever more

In his animagus form, Sirius crouched in the gap between a garage and a fence on Magnolia Crescent. There he was! No more than six feet away from him, the soon to be thirteen-year old Harry was looking for something in his open trunk, on the side of the road. Suddenly, Harry straightened up as if he had sensed Sirius' presence.

He seemed to shake the feeling off, however, because Harry once again leaned over his trunk. Sirius shifted ever so slightly, and Harry stood up right away, his hand clenched on his wand.

"Lumos." He muttered. And as he lifted it higher over his head, Sirius inwardly groaned.

The light cast a shadow upon Sirius, but he knew Harry had seen him, as the boy stepped backward…and tripped over his own trunk.

Sirius visibly flinched as Harry fell backward and flung out his right arm to break his fall. And predictably, with a BANG, the Knight Bus appeared. Thankfully, Harry rolled back, just in time, too. Sirius took the opportunity to move from the alleyway to the other side of the bus, while Harry's attention was captured by the pimply conductor.

Moments later, both Harry and the conductor were on the bus, and Sirius could see the conductor pick up a copy of the Daily Prophet. The one that had his picture on the front page, declaring Sirius a fugitive.

Inwardly, Sirius cringed as the bus disappeared with another BANG. That article was not the best way for Harry to find out about his godfather's 'history'.

You'll be in my heart

No matter what they say

You'll be in my heart, always

Sirius had been waiting for this moment. He had been waiting for it in Azkaban for twelve long years.

"That's not a rat." Sirius told the three teenagers in front of him.

"What d'you mean – of course he's a rat –"

"No, he's not." Remus said quietly. "He's a wizard."

"An Animagus." Sirius said. "By the name of Peter Pettigrew."

The room in the shrieking shack was silent for a few moments. The three teens, Harry and his two friends, seemed to be letting this statement sink in.

"You're both mental." The red-haired boy -Sirius thought his name might be Ron- said.

"Ridiculous." The girl-Hermione-said softly.

"Peter Pettigrew's dead!" Harry said. "He killed him twelve years ago!" He pointed at Sirius, who's face twitched convulsively at the accusation his beloved godson brought forth.

"I meant to." Sirius growled. "But little Peter got the better of me…not this time, though!"

The cat that had been sitting on Sirius's chest was thrown to the floor as he lunged at Scabbers, who was squirming in Ron's hands. Ron yelled in pain as Sirius's weight fell on his broken leg.

"Sirius, NO!" Remus yelled, launching himself forwards and dragging his friend away from Ron again. "WAIT! You can't do it just like that – they need to understand – we've got to explain –"

"We can explain afterwards!" Sirius snarled, as he tried to throw Remus off. One of his hands grabbed at the air, trying to get to Scabbers. Peter would pay for his betrayal!

"They've – got – a – right – to – know – everything!" Remus panted, still trying to restrain Sirius. "Ron's kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don't understand! And Harry – you owe Harry the truth, Sirius!"

Sirius finally stopped struggling, though his Azkaban-hollowed eyes were still fixed on Scabbers, who was clamped tightly under Ron's bitten, scratched, and bleeding hands. Remus was right. Harry did deserve to know the truth. He deserved to know the real reason why his parents had died.

"All right, then." Sirius said, his eyes never leaving Peter. "Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for…"

"You're nutters, both of you." Ron said shakily, looking to his friends for support. "I've had enough of this. I'm off."

He tried to heave himself up on his good leg, but Remus raised his wand, pointing it at the rat.

"You're going to hear me out, Ron." He said quietly. "Just keep tight hold on Peter while you listen."

"HE'S NOT PETER, HE'S SCABBERS!" Ron yelled, trying to force the rat back into his front pocket, but Scabbers was fighting too hard; Ron swayed and overbalanced, and Harry caught him and pushed him back onto the bed. Then, ignoring his godfather, Harry turned to Remus.

"There were witnesses who saw Pettigrew die," he said, "A whole street full of them…"

"They didn't see what they thought they saw!" Sirius interrupted.

"Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter." Remus agreed, nodding. "I believed it myself – until I saw the map tonight. Because the Marauder's map never lies…Peter's alive. Ron's holding him, Harry."

Harry looked down at Ron, and their eyes seemed to meet in a silent agreement. Sirius saw this out of the corner of his eye and smirked slightly. So, his godson thought he was crazy, did he?

"But Professor Lupin…Scabbers can't be Pettigrew…it just can't be true, you know it can't…" Hermione said in a pleading voice.

Why can't they understand

The way we feel

They just don't trust

What they can't explain

Harry had never been part of a stranger group. Crookshanks led the way back down the stairs in the Shrieking Shack; Remus, Pettigrew, and Ron went next, all attached to each other so that Peter couldn't escape. Next came Professor Snape—who had come in half-way through Remus' explanation of Sirius' innocence, and had been promptly stunned—drifting sleepily along, his toes hitting each stair as they descended; Sirius was holding up Snape's wand, as he hadn't had one of his own since before Azkaban. Harry and Hermione brought up the rear.

Awkwardly, they all made their way back into the tunnel that headed back towards Hogwarts. Harry went in right after Sirius, who was still making Snape drift along in front of them; he kept bumping his lolling head on the low ceiling. Harry got the impression Sirius was making no effort to prevent this.

"You know what this means?" Sirius suddenly asked Harry as they walked along the tunnel. "Turning Pettigrew in?"

"You're free." Harry said.

"Yes…," Sirius said, "But I'm also – I don't know if anyone ever told you – I'm your godfather."

"Yeah, I knew that." Harry said.

"Well…your parents appointed me your guardian." Sirius said stiffly. This was harder than he had expected. "If anything happened to them…"

Harry was silent, trying not to let himself think about what he thought Sirius might be implying

"I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle," Sirius said, misinterpreting Harry's silence. "But…well…think about it. Once my names cleared…if you want a…a different home…"

Some sort of explosion took place in the pit of Harry's stomach.

"What—live with you?" He said, accidentally cracking his head on a bit of rock protruding from the ceiling. "Leave the Dursleys?"

"Of course, I thought you wouldn't want to." Sirius said quickly. Maybe Petunia wasn't as bad as Lily had always said she was? "I understand, I just thought I'd—"

"Are you insane?" Harry said, his voice easily as croaky as his godfather's. "Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?"

Sirius turned right around to look at him; Snape's head was scraping the ceiling—not the Sirius really cared.

"You really want to?" Sirius said. "You mean it?"

"Yeah, I mean it!" Harry said.

Sirius's gaunt face broke into the first true smile Harry had seen upon it. The difference it made was startling, as though a person ten years younger were shining through the starved mask; for a moment, he was recognizable as the man who had laughed at Harry's parents' wedding.

I know we're different but,

Deep inside us

We're not that different at all

Sirius had known that it had been too good to be true.

Finding Peter after all these years, turning him in as a death eater, and in turn, freeing Sirius from his life-long conviction. For a few glorious minutes, his future with Harry had looked so bright. Now, all he saw in his future was…nothing.

Fudge had said the Dementors would be there momentarily to perform the kiss. There was no future for Sirius, then.

So for now, Sirius sat by himself, in what he recognized as Professor Flitwick's office. Ahh, the good old days. Back when he, James, Remus, and…Peter had been in school. The many pranks they had played, and consequently, the many detentions they had served.

Suddenly, Sirius was brought out of his reverie by a sharp tap on the window.

Sirius looked up to see Harry and Hermione on the other side, riding on the back of a hippogriff. His jaw dropped. Hurriedly, he went to the window and tried to open it, but it was locked.

"Stand back!" Hermione called, as she took out her wand, still gripping the back of Harry's robes with her left hand.


The window sprang open.

"How—how--?" Sirius said weakly, staring at the hippogriff.

"Get on—there's not much time." Harry said, gripping Buckbeak firmly on either side of his sleek neck to hold him steady. "You've got to get out of here—the dementors are coming—Macnair's gone to get them."

Sirius placed a hand on either side of the window frame and heaved his head and shoulders out of it. It seemed that Azkaban was good for something then. In seconds, he managed to fling one leg over Buckbeak's back and pull himself onto the hippogriff behind Hermione.

"Okay, Buckbeak, up!" Harry said, shaking the rope. "Up to the tower—come on!"

The hippogriff gave one sweep of its mighty wings and they were soaring upward again, high as the top of what Sirius recognized as the West Tower. Buckbeak landed with a clatter on the battlements, and Harry and Hermione slid off at once.

"Sirius, you'd better go, quick." Harry said. "They'll reach Flitwick's office any moment, they'll find out you're gone."

Buckbeak pawed the ground, tossing his sharp head.

"What happened to the other boy? Ron?" Sirius asked.

"He's going to be okay. He's still out of it, but Madame Pomfrey says she'll be able to make him better. Quick—go—"

But Sirius was still staring down at Harry.

"How can I ever thank—"

"GO!" Harry and Hermione shouted together.

Sirius wheeled Buckbeak around, facing the open sky.

"We'll see each other again." He said. "You are—truly your father's son, Harry…"

He squeezed Buckbeak's sides with his heels. Harry and Hermione jumped back as the enormous wings rose once more…The hippogriff rode off into the air…He and his rider became smaller and smaller as Harry gazed after them…then a cloud drifted across the moon…They were gone.

And you'll be in my heart

Yes, you'll be in my heart

From this day on

Now and forever more

In the days after his trial, Harry noticed that there was one person in number twelve, Grimmauld Place who didn't seem very happy about Harry's return to Hogwarts. True, Sirius had put up a very good show of happiness on first hearing the news; soon, however, he was moodier and surlier than before, talking less to everybody, even Harry, and spending increasing amounts of time shut up in his mother's room with Buckbeak, the hippogriff.

"Don't you go feeling guilty!" Hermione had said, after Harry had confided some of his feelings to her and Ron as they continued to decontaminate the house. "You belong at Hogwarts and Sirius knows it. Personally, I think he's being selfish."

"That's a bit harsh, Hermione." Ron said. "You wouldn't want to be stuck inside this house without company."

"He'll have company!" Hermione said. "It's headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix, isn't it? He just got his hopes up that Harry would be coming to live with him."

"I don't think that true." Harry contradicted. "He wouldn't give me a straight answer when I asked him if I could."

"He just didn't want to get his own hopes up even more." Hermione replied. "And he probably felt a bit guilty himself, because I think a part of him was really hoping you would be expelled. Then you would both be outcasts together."

"Come off it!" Harry and Ron said, but Hermione merely shrugged.

"Suit yourselves. But sometimes I think Ron's mum's right, and Sirius gets confused about whether you're you or your father, Harry."

"So you think he's touched in the head?" Harry snapped.

"No, I just think he's been very lonely for a long time." Hermione replied.

Don't listen to them

'Cause what do they know

We need each other,

To have, to hold

Harry grimaced as Sirius's mum's portrait howled with rage; but nobody was bothering to close the curtains over her; all the noise in the hall was bound to rouse her again anyway. It was the first of September, and everyone in Grimmauld Place was rushed for time, trying to get everything together and still get to King's Cross on time.

"Harry, you're to come with me and Tonks." Mrs. Weasley shouted over the repeated screeches of "MUDBLOODS! SCUM! CREATURES OF DIRT!" "Leave your trunk and your owl, Moody's going to deal with the luggage…Oh, for heaven's sake, Sirius, Dumbledore said no!"

Sirius, the dog, appeared at Harry's side, as the boy clambered over the various trunks cluttering the front hall to get to Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh honestly…" Mrs. Weasley said despairingly, "well, on your own head be it!"

They'll see in time

I know

The dreams had been coming on and off all yearlong. First, it had just been as if Harry was pondering the hallway in his sleep. Then, it was as if he was making a journey through what he recognized as the Department of Mysteries. And finally, his dreams had been used to lure him there. To the Department of Mysteries, where Harry had believed Voldemort was torturing his godfather to death.

But the dreams had all been a lie.

Voldemort had broken into Harry's mind as he slept and planted false images of Sirius dying; knowing, that the teenaged boy would come to his godfathers rescue. And he had been right.

Harry had come to save Sirius, only to find that he wasn't there. Instead, he found half a dozen death eaters waiting for him. But Sirius, learning of Harry's whereabouts, had come to his rescue with other order members. And it had cost him his life.

Now, Harry was practically pinned against the wall of the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic, by a stone statue that Dumbledore had brought to life to protect Harry. From his vantage point, Harry watched as Voldemort and Dumbledore dueled with each other, while Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius's murderer, watched from the other side of the room, trapped under her own statue guard.

Dumbledore brandished his wand in one long, fluid movement, and the water in the pool rose up and covered Voldemort like a cocoon of molten glass—

For a few seconds Voldemort was visible only as a dark, rippling, faceless figure, shimmering and indistinct upon the plinth, clearly struggling to throw off the suffocating mass—

Then he was gone, and the water fell with a crash back into its pool, slopping wildly over the sides, drenching the polished floor.

"MASTER!" Bellatrix screamed.

Sure that it was over and Voldemort had decided to flee, Harry made to run out from behind his statue guard, but Dumbledore bellowed, "Stay where you are, Harry!"

For the first time in Harry's life, that he could remember, Dumbledore sounded frightened. Although Harry couldn't see why. The hall was quite empty save for themselves, the sobbing Bellatrix still trapped under her statue, and the tiny baby Fawkes croaking feebly on the floor—

And then Harry's scar burst open. He knew he was dead: it was pain beyond imagining, pain past endurance—

He was gone from the hall, he was locked in the coils of a creature with red eyes, so tightly bound that Harry did not know where his body ended and the creature's began. They were fused together, bound by pain, and there was no escape—

When the creature spoke, it was through Harry's mouth, and in his agony he felt his jaw move….

"Kill me now, Dumbledore…"

Blinded and dying, with every part of him screaming for release, Harry could feel the creature use him again….

"If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy…"

, Harry thought.

And as Harry's heart filled with emotion, the creature's coils loosened, the pain was gone, Harry was lying facedown on the floor, his glasses gone, shivering as though he lay upon the ice, not wood…

When destiny calls you

You must be strong

I may not be with you

But you've got to hold on

Harry was back in Dumbledore's repaired office, standing by the door, ready to kill Dumbledore while attempting to leave the room. Sirius was dead, and Harry knew that it was his entire fault.

"It is my fault that Sirius died." Dumbledore said clearly. "Or I should say almost entirely my fault—I will not be so arrogant as to claim responsibility for the whole. Sirius was a brave, clever, and energetic man, and such men are not usually content to sit at home in hiding while they believe others to be in danger. Nevertheless, you should never have believed for an instant that there was any necessity for you to go to the Department of Mysteries tonight. If I had been open with you, Harry, as I should have been, you would have known a long time ago that Voldemort might try and lure you to the Department of Mysteries, and you would have never been tricked into going there tonight. And Sirius would not have had to come after you. That blame lies with me, and me alone."

Harry was still standing with his hand on the doorknob but he was unaware of it. He was gazing at Dumbledore, hardly breathing, listening and not understanding what he was hearing.

"Please sit down." Said Dumbledore.

After a moments hesitation, Harry walked slowly across the room and took the seat facing Dumbledore's desk.

"Am I to understand," said Phineas Nigellus slowly from Harry's left, "that my great-great-grandson—the last of the Blacks—is dead?"

"Yes, Phineas," said Dumbledore.

"I don't believe it," said Phineas brusquely.

Harry turned his head in time to see Phineas marching out of his portrait and knew that he had gone to visit his other painting in Grimmauld Place. He would walk, perhaps, from portrait to portrait, calling for Sirius through the house…

They'll see in time

I know

We'll show them together

A few days ago (before Harry's O.W.L.'s had finished and he had seen the vision Voldemort had planted in his mind), he would have given almost anything for the Wizarding world to know that he had been telling the truth. Harry would have done just about anything for them to believe that Voldemort was back and know that he was neither a liar nor mad. Now, however…

He walked a short way around the lake, sat down on its bank, sheltered from the gaze of passerby behind a tangle of shrubs, and stared out over the gleaming water, thinking…

Ever since his talk with Dumbledore, Harry had wanted to be alone because he felt isolated from everybody. It was as if there was an invisible barrier separating him from the rest of the world. He was—he had always been—a marked man. It was just that he had never really understood what that meant…

And yet, even with this new understanding of his destiny, with that terrible weight of grief dragging him down, with the loss of his godfather so fresh, Harry could not muster any sense of fear at all. The grounds he was sitting on were full of laughing people, and although he felt like he belonged to a different race compared to them, it was still very hard for him to believe, as he sat there, that his life must include, or end in, murder…

He sat there for a long time, gazing out at the water, trying not to think about his godfather or to remember that it was directly across from here, on the opposite bank, that Sirius had collapsed trying to fight of a hundred dementors…

The sun had fallen before he realized that he was cold. Harry got up and returned to the castle, wiping his tears on his sleeve as he walked.

'Cause you'll be in my heart

Yes, you'll be in my heart

From this day on,

Now and forever more

This was the only way. The only way to defeat Voldemort and save the entire wizarding world. Harry knew this was the end. This was it. This was the close.

Seventeen-year old Harry pressed the golden metal to his lips and whispered, "I am about to die."

The metal shell broke open. Lowering his shaking hand, he raised the wand he was holding beneath the cloak, and murmured,

The black stone with its jagged crack running down the center sat in two halves of the Snitch. The Resurrection Stone had cracked down the vertical line representing the Elder Wand. The triangle and circle representing the Cloak and the stone were still discernible.

And now Harry understood it all without having to think. It did not matter about bringing them back, for he was about to join them. He was not really fetching them: They were fetching him.

He closed his eyes and turned the stone over in his hand three times.

He knew it had happened, because he heard slight movements around him that suggested frail bodies shifting their footing on the earthy, twig-strewn ground that marked the outer edge of the forest. He opened his eyes and looked around.

Harry could see they were neither flesh nor truly ghost. The only thing that he could remember resembling them most closely was the memory of Riddle that had escaped from the diary years ago; the memory made nearly solid. Less substantial than living bodies, but much more than ghosts, they moved toward him, and on each face, there were the same loving smiles.

There was James, exactly the same height as Harry; wearing the clothing in which he had died. His hair was untidy and ruffled, and, like Mr. Weasley, his glasses were a little lopsided.

Sirius, his godfather, was tall and handsome. He looked much younger than Harry had ever seen him in life. Sirius loped with in easy grace, his hands in his pockets and a grin on his face.

Remus looked younger, as well. He was much less shabby, and his hair was thicker and darker. He looked so happy to be in this familiar place once more; the scene of so many adolescent wanderings.

The widest smile of all was Lily's. As she drew closer to her son, she pushed her long hair back and her green eyes, so like Harry's, searched his face hungrily, as though she would never be able to look at him enough.

"You've been so brave."

Harry could not speak. His eyes feasted on her, and he thought he would like to stand and look at her forever, and that would be enough.

"You are nearly there," said James. "Very close. We are…so proud of you."

"Does it hurt?"

The childish question had fallen from Harry's lips before he could stop it.

"Dying? Not at all." Sirius said reassuringly. "Quicker and easier than falling asleep."

"And he will want it to be quick. He wants it over." Remus stated.

"I didn't want you to die," Harry said. These words came without his volition. "Any of you. I'm sorry—"

He addressed Lupin more than any of them; beseeching him.

"—Right after you'd had your son…Remus, I'm sorry—"

"I am sorry too," said Lupin, his smile faltering a bit. "Sorry that I will never know him…but he will know why I died and I hope he will understand. I was trying to make a world in which he could live a happier life."

A chilly breeze that seemed to emanate from the heart of the forest lifted the hair at Harry's brow. He knew that they would not tell him to go; that it would have to be his decision.

"You'll stay with me?"

"Until the very end," said James.

"They won't be able to see you?" Harry questioned.

"We are part of you," said Sirius. "Invisible to anyone else."

"Stay close to me." Harry said quietly, before setting off…to find Voldemort.

Oh, you'll be in my heart

No matter what they say

You'll be in my heart, always