Harry Potter Shooting Star

**A/N: I recently found this on my old laptop and decided to post it on here. Just warning you now, I think I wrote it when I was 13 or 14, so it might be a little cheesy and lame. There are a few more chapters on my old laptop, which I'll add eventually, but this definitely won't be a very long story, 10 chapters at most. So, yeah... Read and review... or don't. It's your decision. I'm not going to force you to do anything. **

**And, before you ask, no, I don't own anything. It's all J. K. Rowling's, the lucky buttmuncher. **

* * *

Sirius Black stared up at the perpetual darkness known as the night sky. Once there might have been a time when Sirius found comfort from the darkness, where he might have relished in the glow of the moon and twinkling stars, but those times were long gone. Now, whenever Sirius looked up at the sky he found bitterness, betrayal, loss. The sky was nothing more than a hopeless sea of shadows.

"Padfoot?"

Sirius didn't turn away from the window.

The intruder sighed, walking closer to where Sirius was sitting, his footsteps falling heavily on the wooden floor, causing the floorboards to creak in protest.

"Are you alright, Padfoot?"

The stiffening of Sirius's back was the only sign he made to show that he heard the intruder. The man seemed to shift nervously behind him.

"I'm sorry, Sirius," the man finally whispered softly. "You never had the chance to mourn properly, did you?"

Sirius was silent. He was talking about Azkaban, about James and Lily Potter.

"It… It's not right." The intruder hesitated, opening his mouth to say more before closing it, deciding against it. Eventually, he looked out the window, towards the sky. The stars glittered vibrantly back at him like thousands of tiny jewels.

Sirius could see Remus's reflection in the window, and he watched as a sad smile slowly formed on the man's face. Still, Sirius didn't speak.

"Make a wish," Remus said under his breath and Sirius looked out just in time to watch a streak of light dance across the sky. As soon as the star disappeared, Remus turned abruptly and left the room without another word.

Sirius stared at the spot in the sky where the star had faded into nothingness. He never wished on shooting stars anymore, he didn't see the point; nothing in the world could bring his best friend back, especially not a star. James Potter was dead, and as much as he wished he wasn't, Sirius knew that he was gone forever and he wasn't coming back.

With that last thought, Sirius fell to the ground with a loud "thump," unconscious.

* * *

Suddenly, Sirius found himself sharing a familiar train compartment with two black haired boys. There was a short boy with untidy black hair and stylish glasses on his left, and a taller, more aristocratic looking boy on his right. Sirius recognized the two immediately.

"I'm James Potter," the short boy introduced himself, puffing out his chest dramatically. There was no mistaking him. He was a one-of-a-kind. Even Harry, who shared similar looks with his father, would never _be_ James Potter.

Sirius, for his part, did not break down sobbing the minute he saw his old best friend, though he very much wanted to. He held it together knowing it wasn't real. James was dead. This had to be a memory, though he wasn't sure how he could be seeing it, as the dementors had taken away all of his happy memories when he was in Azkaban.

"Hi," the other boy cracked a smile, "I'm Sirius Black."

This was the first time he had met James on the train, their first encounter. He could feel his eyes welling up as he watched the scene unfold before him.

"Black?" James said, raising an eyebrow. "I've heard of your family."

Young Sirius grumbled, glaring out the window at the passing scenery. "Yeah, me too."

Old Sirius looked on fondly at his younger self. He remembered being that boy once, trying to break away from his family's reputation and make his own name.

"Isn't everyone named after a star, or something?"

Young Sirius turned to look at James incredulously.

James grinned sheepishly. "I like astronomy, okay?" he said with a shrug.

Old Sirius' shoulders shook as he chuckled quietly to himself with tears in his eyes. _Oh, Jamie boy._

"Haven't you heard the other stuff about my family?" Young Sirius asked in confusion.

James cocked his head to the side and tapped his chin thoughtfully for a moment or two, before shaking his head and turning back to Sirius.

"No, not really. Learning about bloodlines and pureblood families has never my strongest suit. It's too boring."

Young Sirius smiled widely, showing off his pearly whites, while Old Sirius wondered for the first time whether or not James knew more about his family than he was letting on.

"So, what House do you want to be in?"

While Young Sirius considered the question, Old Sirius took the chance to collapse in a seat beside his younger self, surprisingly exhausted. He was going through emotional hell. He breathed in deeply and stared at this younger version of his best mate, memorizing him; he was so young, his face smooth and untouched by age, his eyes bright and full of life and mischief.

"I want to be in... the House that chooses me for _me, _I s'pose," said Young Sirius slowly, as if still considering his answer.

James rolled his eyes. "That wasn't a very straight answer. Okay, how 'bout, what House do you _think_ you'll be in? I, personally, think I'll be in Gryffindor. Don't I strike you as a Gryffindor?" James stood up, lifted his chin, puffed out his chest again, and placed his hands on his hips.

"Yeah, if Gryffindor takes in all the poofs," laughed Young Sirius.

James dropped the pose and feigned looking offended. "You're just jealous of my boyish good looks." He plopped back down in his seat with a loud "hmph!" and crossed his arms over his chest.

Old Sirius gave a small, sorrowful smile. He couldn't believe he had forgotten all of this. Merlin, he hated dementors.

"_Please,"_ Young Sirius scoffed playfully. "Why would I be jealous of you when I have this-" He hopped up on his seat and struck his own pose. Old Sirius quickly moved to sit next to James, already predicting Young Sirius's next move. Or maybe he remembered it. Young Sirius then proceeded to catwalk along the bench, adding an extra sway to his hips as he walked.

James applauded Sirius's performance and they both laughed as Young Sirius sat back down.

"Looks like I'll be seeing you in Gryffindor," James commented with a grin, hazel eyes sparkling behind his glasses.

A lone tear rolled down Old Sirius's face. He stood hastily, turning away from the sight to face the door before wiping at his cheeks, because although it was only a memory of him, he never wanted his best mate, his brother, to see him cry.


End file.

Harry Potter, Friendship, Hurt-Comfort