Unspoken Emotions

The next morning was grey and dreary, and a light drizzle fell from the sky. Harry stood beside Sirius in the churchyard. The rest of the family huddled around the open grave, wrapped tightly in thick cloaks and carrying large umbrellas. Pollux's coffin was lowered into the ground, and the vicar droned on.

'...we therefore commit his body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in sure and certain hope...'

Hope? Harry thought bitterly. What hope? Great-Granddad's dead. He's gone, and he's not coming back.

Harry had never thought about death much. He knew James, Lily and Regina were dead, but he had only ever known any of them through their portraits, and somehow it had never really clicked that dead people had once been alive, had once been real, flesh-and-blood people with families and friends and hopes and dreams.

The thought of Pollux as a portrait, stuck forever in two dimensions, repulsed him. Never before had a portrait seemed so fake, like the barest reflection of someone who had been real, someone who had been lost forever.

The mourners all filed by, dropping handfuls of dirt on top of the coffin.

'Good-bye, Great-Granddad,' Harry whispered as he dropped his own clod of soil. It made a loud noise against the coffin. He clutched tightly onto Sirius's hand as they left the churchyard and walked slowly back to Grimmauld Place.

Draco and Abraxas came up behind them and walked silently on Harry's other side. The Muggles zoomed by in their cars, horns blaring and radios blasting, an unwelcome intrusion on the family grief. At least the weather seemed to sympathise. Even the sky was weeping today.

They reached the townhouse and went inside. Kreacher had prepared mountains of food, ready for any visitors who might come by to pay their respects to the family. Harry didn't feel up to accepting condolences today.

'Dad?' he breathed hoarsely. Sirius looked down at him with compassion in his grey eyes.

'What is it, son?'

'I'm really tired. Can I go home?' Harry asked.

'Let me take Aries and Draco home with me, Sirius,' Abraxas suggested. 'You'll be busy all day anyway, and the boys need a chance to rest.'

Sirius nodded. 'Thanks, Dad.' He patted Harry on the shoulder. 'I'll be by to pick you up this evening.'

Harry nodded and followed his grandfather and cousin to the fireplace.

....

Late that night, exhausted and bleary-eyed, Sirius Flooed to Malfoy Manor. He found Harry lying on the sofa, curled up in a small ball next to Abraxas, who was sitting with his legs crossed and flipping through the latest issue of Transfiguration Today. Abraxas looked up as Sirius entered the room.

'Is everyone gone?' he asked.

Sirius nodded. 'Finally. Grandmamma's gone to bed and Kreacher's handling the cleanup. How's Aries?'

'The poor boy's taking Pollux's death rather hard,' Abraxas said. 'Much harder than Draco is.'

'Well, Aries had to deal with his mum's death very young,' Sirius said thoughtfully. 'I suspect it bothers him more deeply to lose those he loves.'

Abraxas smiled down at his grandson's sleeping form. 'He didn't want to leave my side until you came to collect him. He insisted he'd stay up.'

Sirius chuckled. 'Ten-year-old boys do have a tendency to overestimate their own abilities in that regard. Thank you for humouring him.'

'Grandfathers live to spoil their grandsons,' Abraxas replied. He paused. 'Would you forgive an old man for dispensing a bit of fatherly advice?'

'Absolutely,' Sirius said with a smile. 'I need all the help I can get.'

'You've stepped admirably into your role as future Head of the House of Black this week,' his father-in-law said. 'Everything has gone splendidly. Pollux would have been proud, and I'm sure Arcturus will be too, once he hears about it.'

'But?'

Abraxas took a deep breath. 'You've rather left Aries to the sidelines. He and Draco have been by themselves all week.'

'Aunt Clytemnestra was taking care of them,' Sirius pointed out.

'Indeed she was, and no doubt doing an admirable job,' Abraxas said quickly. 'I understand the necessity for it under these circumstances, and the boys do as well. But you're going to have greater and greater responsibilities as time goes on, Sirius, more and more excuses to pull you away from your son.

They will all seem incredibly important at the time. Don't let abandoning your son in order to fulfil other duties become automatic, as it has with Lucius and Narcissa.'

'I care about Aries more than anything else in the world,' Sirius protested.

'Lucius and Narcissa care for Draco,' Abraxas replied. 'Perhaps more than he'll ever know. That's precisely the problem.' He sighed. 'Trust me on this, Sirius. I have done many grand and important things in my lifetime, and now, in my old age, I find that I would trade them all to have spent more time with my son.' He smiled wistfully. 'Aries is going to Hogwarts next year. You've already missed out on nine years of his life. If you're not careful you'll wake up one day and find out that you've lined up everything perfectly for an heir you don't even really know.'

Sirius nodded. 'Thanks, Dad. I'll bear that in mind.'

'Don't get me wrong, Sirius. I think you're a wonderful father. Aries adores you.' He paused. 'Only I want things to stay that way.'

'I respect that. Thank you.' Sirius looked down at Harry. 'Now, if I'm going to be a wonderful father tonight, I should get Aries to bed.'

'Don't wake him,' Abraxas said. 'I had Dobby prepare Aries' usual room for you. You can stay here tonight.'

Abraxas summoned the house elf, and Sirius followed him up the ornate staircase to the guest room, levitating Harry all the way. He laid Harry gently in the large bed and crawled into the smaller second bed Dobby had set up. He had just laid his head on the pillow when Harry stirred.

'Dad?' Harry mumbled. 'Is that you?'

'It's me,' Sirius whispered back.

'I thought you weren't going to come.'

'I promised,' Sirius reminded him.

Harry lay there quietly for a minute, and Sirius thought he had fallen back asleep.

'You're going to die one day, aren't you, Dad?' he said eventually. 'Just like my parents.'

Sirius felt his eyes grow moist. 'Yes, Harry,' he said hoarsely. 'I am. Everyone dies, you know. But I shan't die for a very long time yet.'

'You don't know that for sure,' Harry said with resignation. 'My parents were young when they died.'

Sirius sighed. 'But that was during a war. Voldemort's gone now.'

'There could be another war,' Harry pointed out. 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was hardly the first Dark Lord, and he probably won't be the last. Or you could die in an accident. What if you crash the Diablo? What if there's a fire?'

Sirius dragged himself out of his bed and crawled next to Harry. He put an arm around the boy's shoulders.

'I suppose you're right,' Sirius said. 'You never know. I could die tomorrow.'

'So could I, for that matter,' Harry replied. Sirius shuddered, not allowing himself even to consider the possibility. 'Or Draco. Or Granddad. Or the Squibs.'

'Everyone dies eventually,' Sirius said. 'All you can do is live each moment for all it's worth.' He paused. 'And you know, I don't think the ones we love ever really leave us.'

'So you think there's a chance people really do live on after they die?'

Sirius smiled at his godson, his son. 'We live in an amazing world, Harry. Who knows what wonders await us beyond the grave?'

Harry hugged Sirius tightly. 'I don't want to lose you.'

Tears began streaming down Sirius's face. 'I don't want to lose you either, Harry.'

Father and son held each other close, neither wanting to let go, and slowly drifted off to sleep.

.....

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