A/N: Whilst I took a short break from my actual story so that I could plan it out properly I thought I'd write this little one-shot. Anyway here goes…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything; if I did Sirius would never have died.

A godfather. Ha; stupid, meaningless word. Someone whose supposed to look after you when your parents die. Yeah right! When have I ever been there for you? When have you ever been able to tell me all your problems when there's too much to keep inside? When have you been able to tell me all your problems when there's too much to keep inside? When have you been able to cry on my shoulder when pain and anguish took over? When have I ever been a godfather to you?

Actually that's not entirely true. You and me, we used to play together when you were little; the two of us Harry. Do you remember? No, of course you don't; you weren't even one years old. You used to play with the stuffed dog that I bought you the day you were born; you'd clutch it like there was no tomorrow. Then I'd make little woofing noises making you squeal and giggle in delight.

It's been ages since I've heard that beautiful laugh of yours, you know. We both wish that we could go back to those days; the days of Lily and James, don't we? Yes Harry, both of us. I know what you were wishing for all those sleepless nights when you used to lie wide awake in your bed.

But then again life always seems too conspire against you Harry- us even. It bends and twists itself just to force you into the worst scenario possible.

Firstly your parents were murdered from right beneath those emerald green eyes. They've never had the same innocence in them ever since. That day the wizarding world celebrated for the boy-who-lived; I grieved. U knew that from that day onwards your life would be hell, and I was right wasn't I. Harry, you may have defeated Voldemort and lived, but I've always thought that for your own happiness it would have probably been better for you to have died.

Then for eleven long years you lived with your relatives who hated you. You felt alone, like no one loved you. But you were wrong Harry, wrong. Even though I was locked up behind bars I never stopped loving you. There wasn't a day when you weren't in my mind- my heart. But what use was my love if you couldn't feel it when it was most needed.

Already I had failed as a godfather.

Then when you came to Hogwarts you were forced to tackle situations that most grown wizards probably couldn't face; saving my life just to name one. You always came out of the worse with brave triumph on your face. But even though I wasn't always present I could sense the rowing burden inside your heart.

Then when I died it all became too much and you died too. I saw you just lying there on your bed, shivering despite the heat. Every time a tear trickled down your cheek I feel my heart tear open. You feel guilty; you think you killed me. Yes Harry, I'm all too familiar with that feeling to recognise it within another. But my dearest godson, you have to believe me; you have to understand that the only one responsible is Bellatrix and perhaps Voldemort too. Not you Harry.

Why? Why are you grieving for me? I don't deserve it. Harry, I was never even there for you. Here we are, back to the beginning. You are grieving for a godfather; something which I long to be but am not. If I truly was your godfather I'd be able to cradle you in my arms; dry your cheeks and whisper that everything's going to be all right. But I cant. Even though can look down on you, you can't see me can you Harry?

But you know even though I'm not physically there you can talk to be you know? I'll always listen even though you can't hear my replies.

Saying that what would be the point? I can't offer you advice, or lighten the mood. Talking to me would be useless. I'm of no use to you anymore Harry.

But just as you were beginning to recover from my death, Albus Dumbledore died too, leaving you to shatter once more. Oh Harry, never before have wanted to hold you in my arms so much, comfort you before you go crazy. Right now you are not supposed to sit on the bed all alone, wondering what to do with all that grief with. You are supposed to be able to burry your face into my robes and be able to cry it all out without feeling ashamed. Wash away the guilt for making Dumbledore drink the potion that made him weak.

My darling godson, you only appear to be an arms distance away from me. I can see ever tear track on your cheeks; so why can't I reach out and touch you. I'm paralysed.

But instead you fell into a deep dark hole and got caved in. I knew you were suffering from depression and yet I couldn't be there to show you that little ray of hope. Maybe if I had been able to you wouldn't have run away from home, seeking out Voldemort on your own- without your friends' help. Why didn't you see Harry, it as suicidal? Suicidal!

For two weeks you roamed the streets; cold, wet, starving, alone. Muggles saw you; some took pity and gave you money for food. Others saw only a skinny boy dressed in rags. Either way you ignored them. You thought nobody loved you; you though that nobody cared. But as your godfather believe me when I say that you though wrong. Ron and Hermione went completely berserk when they found out that you'd just disappeared from home. Young Ginny Weasley cried herself to sleep every night without fail. And me…

I would prefer to die a thousand times than have seen you shiver and fall asleep, your head resting against another brick wall.

But eventually you found him didn't you- Lord Voldemort- or rather he found you. They tortured you didn't they, but you still kept fighting. You'd never give them the satisfaction of screaming out loud, but your little gasps of pain were enough to rip me apart. To see you helpless like that was worse than dying.

Yet at the same time I couldn't help wondering what was going on behind the brave face? What did you feel besides the pain?

Then your day came- the day of the final battle. You were force to face Voldemort alone. Actually you weren't alone. I was there behind you the whole time, even though I couldn't defend you like I should be able to.

The battle between dark and light- you and Voldemort- continues even now. There is definitely strength and power behind the innocent; something which Voldemort seems to have underestimated. Harry, you are slowly winning the battle against the darkest lord of all time.

My eyes begin to water with pity and anguish as yet another crucio comes binding you way. You dodge but not far enough. How can the same boy who used to giggle at the sound of my little woofing noises grow up to be a man, twitching and screaming at the mercy of Lord Voldemort? It's partly my fault I guess. I f I hadn't persuaded your dad to change secret keeper, he and Lily could still be alive. Things might have turned out differently- better. I'm sorry Harry; I've let you down, so much that you can't even hear my apology.

Suddenly another jet of light leaves the tip of Voldemort's wand and flies through the air, heading towards you. I'd recognise that bright green colour from anywhere. I tried to throw myself in front of you but my body wouldn't comply. I was dead- paralysed!

Instead I tried to warn you Harry, "DUCK! MOVE! GET OUT OF THE WAY!" as loud as my voice could holler.

Then the battlefield fell silent – your screaming came to an abrupt stop. Then I realised that you'd never heard me.

A/N: Please review. I'll delete this if I don't get any reviews. Please, it will be deeply appreciated.