sirius black - azkaban prison - thinking of marlene right before PoA
they weren’t happy memories. not exactly.
he often reminisced about his time back at hogwarts. back at the potter’s. back in his flat. but those memories were so twinged now with grief that they held no real comfort.
sometimes, and he really couldn’t tell whether it was at his lowest moments or not. could there be anything lower than rotting away in a cell in azkaban for a crime he didn’t committed? did it even matter now that everyone he once cared about was dead o had betrayed him?
not all of them.
there it was. the voice. her voice. so clear as if she was just sitting next to him, whispering in his ear.
that happened sometimes, more often that he'd cared to admit.
he sometimes followed her voice, dreaming they were, actually, together. that nothing that has happened had been real, that it all had been a long, terrifying nightmare and they were still both warm and… alive.
you are, sirius.
am i?
sirius could honestly not tell the difference between sleep or awake, it was all the same. he either dreamed of better times or was haunted by the memories.
sometimes sirius wished he couldn’t hear her or even remember her. it was bad enough he couldn’t get away from the memories of james and lily and poor little harry, who was real and alone and turn a orphan. how long has it been? he was probably twelve. or thirteen now.
but marlene?
marlene had left him long before all that.
marlene had once represented hope and that, sirius had come to realize after years of imprisonment, was worse than the utter devastation of having lost them all. specially since there were none of that, anymore. hope.
she had died, younger even, than the potters.
it was such a twisted thing, he thought. his life had always been so utterly twisted. he shouldn't ought to be so surprised over the fact that, while they had arguably won the war, he had lost everything.
not everything, came the voice, again.
there were other voices too, come to noticed. of real people near his cell.
reluctantly, sirius opened his eyes and then he saw it, right there in front in him, the picture of a big happy family posing against the pyramids on the front page of the daily prophet.
and a fat fucking rat sat on top of one of the sons shoulders.