Not Alone (A Sirius Black Love Story).

Oneshot/Epilogue to the Epilogue - The End of the Fight

I know I said I was finished with this story and I think I am now but I left the ending with too much unfinished business and loads of you asked for a sequel so hopefully this will be enough. A oneshot that made me cry and wonder why I do this to myself. I hope you lot enjoy (if you can, because this was pretty painful). I mean, I listened to Goodbye My Lover by James Blunt on repeat while writing this so I think that says a lot in itself. 

Let me know what you guys thought of this extra, and thank you for reading and requesting more, every single one of you are brilliant and if I could I would hug you all for all your support whether it be for me or this story as a whole. 

Courtney lay on the bed, every breath seeming to hurt more than the last. She knew what was going to happen, what the risks were yet she knew as well that if she didn’t try then she would be dead in the next few weeks anyway. She looked slightly to her left to see Abbie sleeping softly, maybe getting the most sleep she’d had in a long while.

Courtney was so proud of her. She had been so strong throughout all of this, shown bravery that matched that of Godric himself yet she was still so young. Owning only thirteen years, she seemed to have the knowledge of thirty and the weight of the world set upon her shoulders. Courtney knew that Sirius would’ve been proud too.

Sirius. He was still the one.  She still couldn’t shake him and she didn’t particularly want to either. A part of her wished that he would walk through the door and then she would sit up and, by some miracle, be one hundred percent better. A tear trickled down Courtney’s cheek and she didn’t have the energy to wipe it away.

If she died, she would never see Sirius again. She wouldn’t ever be his wife like she always swore she would be. She wouldn’t get to say goodbye. So, taking her possible death and her love for Sirius as motivation, she found the energy to pick up a quill and parchment from her bedside and began to write. Tears stained the parchment and her hand shook as she curved the letters and poured her heart out, saying everything she could think. When she physically and mentally felt she could say no more, she put the quill down and held the parchment close to her breast.

Despite her exhaustion, Courtney couldn’t sleep. She found herself watching Abbie instead. Abbie’s mouth was slightly open; a stray curl had fallen across her face and every now and then her nose twitched ever so slightly. Just like when she was a baby.

In what seemed like no time at all, she woke and locked eyes with her mother.

“Good morning,” Courtney greeted her, stroking her hair softly.

“Is it?” Abbie croaked, and Courtney laughed ever so slightly before realising the pain it caused her. Abbie never was a morning person. “What’s that?” She asked, spotting the letter.

“A letter for your Dad.” Courtney replied with a smile while Abbie’s face fell.

She had come to see her father as a dark presence in her life rather than a beacon of light that her mother always described him to be. It was because of him she was faced with so much grief at school, it was because of him that everybody called her mother crazy, it was because of him that Harry Potter had no parents, it was all because of him and she almost hated him for it. Despite what her mother said about him being innocent and how good a man he was, she blamed him for everything.

Courtney looked at her daughter and almost asked for her to one day give it to him but decided against it. Remus would be the better option, she was sure. She couldn’t bear to hand over yet another burden onto her daughter.

“Abbie,” Courtney whispered, feeling the familiar burst of joy the name brought her. “Abbie, Abbie, Abbie.”

Abbie reached out and grabbed her mother’s hand, tears filling her eyes as she remembered why they were even at St Mungo’s. She knew that her mother may well be gone before the day was out and a shot of fear jolted her every nerve.