"the moon is a friend for the lonesome to talk to"

*

Once a month, life was visible again.

The moonlight shone through the bars, casting shadows onto the grime-covered ground. Icy temperatures hung stagnant in the air and spiders skittered through the dirt. How ironic, that something so dark in his past could be the only illumination in his present.

Tortured screams pierced the cold night. Muffled sobbing echoed throughout the halls. Some pleaded with invisible monsters to kill them now, end their misery, while others begged illusions of their loved ones to stay just a few seconds longer. 

A trembling hand grasped a bar like a lifeline, gripping so tightly that the abnormally pale knuckles turned whiter still. Chains hit the metal with an echoing clang. The fingers shook as they desperately tried to hold on.

Sirius' sunken gray eyes quickly darted to his hand, where the moonlight faintly shone on a dull band of gold wrapped around his tattooed finger. It was the only thing he'd managed to hide from Ministry officials the night he'd been arrested. Everything else had been confiscated. His leather jacket, a drawing of a pumpkin Harry made for him, a comb. Once a month, he could actually see the ring, his own possession.

If he tried, really tried, he could remember buying it. He could still see that American pawnshop, the one down the road from that place where he impulse-purchased a nice black tie. The man at the register had a beard only second to Hagrid's in terms of general messiness, and Sirius kept fumbling with the Muggle money, and she was laughing at his cluelessness, and her laugh was the most beautiful thing he could possibly think of, that and her room-lighting smile... and her soft blonde curls... and her playful kisses... the way she was always tripping on everything...

He knew it would be painful, knew they would make him pay, but he said the name anyway.

"Eva," he rasped, his voice barely a whisper. It sounded hoarse from neglect and was quickly lost in the ever-violent wind that surrounded the island of Azkaban.

As soon as Sirius said it, a cold numbness swept over his entire body. He could particularly feel the ache in his chest as those wretched dementors attempted to wrench the peace that her name brought away from him.

He wondered how many years it had been since he'd seen her. At first, he scratched the days into the walls as tally marks, his own personal revenge against those who owned the prison, but that quickly disappeared along with so many other things. His hope. His memories. His youth. To an extent, his sanity.

The cold air chilled him to the bone, but he refused to slink back into the corner of his cell. Not yet. He barely felt alive anymore, and in the moonlight, he could see his hands. He could see them shake, could see how the years had weathered his hands and his wedding ring. He could see his humanity.

Merlin, he wanted a cigarette. Or maybe firewhiskey.

But mostly, Eva.

Having lost his pride what he assumed were years ago, Sirius laid down on the dirty floor right in front of the bars, visible to any unfortunate forced to wander the halls. He was just so tired. No thoughts of vengeance consumed him tonight. Just aching, just longing.

Sighing deeply, he curled up into a ball and closed his eyes, letting his mind drift. Slowly, the pitiful screams of his fellow inmates faded away, leaving a softer voice - no, a song. Music. Lyrics.

"Little darling, it's been a long, cold, lonely winter."

The Beatles. Sirius hadn't given them a thought in some time, mainly because they were hers. Sometimes he tried not to think of Eva at all, just because if he kept her out of his conscious, then the dementors couldn't take her away from him. They'd taken so much of him already.

Slowly, he fell asleep. The voice of George Harrison faded into the mere scratching of a broken record in the background, and his mind did its very best to offer him a glimpse of relief.

"Here comes the sun, and I say 'it's all right'."

He could feel fingers gently running through his hair, soft and comforting. It was the nicest feeling. When he opened his eyes, Eva smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Hey you," she whispered.

Sirius couldn't speak. He just stared at her, trying to memorize every inch of her. An oversized ABBA shirt, messy blonde braid, and emerald green eyes.

"Go back to sleep, you look exhausted. Let me take care of you."

She started to sing quietly in his ear again, but suddenly, his world went dark and silent and cold, as if someone had dumped water on a fire. She was gone.

Sirius jolted awake with an icy gasp. His sunken eyes widened as a dementor neared his cell and he scrambled back. He moved too quickly, though, and the manacles dug painfully into his wrists. He groaned in pain: those wounds never fully healed.

"Get away," he muttered, fear coursing through him. "Get away, please."

Please don't take her from me, too.

He retreated into the corner, and with much more effort than it should have taken, he transformed.

Padfoot stared at the creature in front of the bars, terrified. The dementor couldn't see him, though, and drifted away to haunt another prisoner. The mangy dog fell to the ground and whimpered himself to sleep.

*

Eva sat up in bed, breathing heavily and gripping the sheets.  Just a dream. Just a nightmare. Instinctively, she reached across to the other side of the bed, searching for warmth, but she grasped only stale air.

She slipped out of bed and began to pace the room, wrapping a blanket around herself for comfort.

Just a dream. It's not real. Just a nightmare.

The moonlight shone on the hardwood floor, casting strange shadows all around the room. It felt too confining, too small.

Normally, it would be Remus who heard her crying at night. He'd knock on the door and hold her close until the terror had passed. Both of them refused to mention the trauma that had plagued them for ten years, and instead just tried to help each other through it. He couldn't help her now, though. She'd left him behind. Somewhere far away from her, because of her, he was struggling through a full moon all by himself.

Not that she could help him much. Judging by her Patronus, it never would have been worth becoming an Animagus, and Remus always made her stay far away from him when he transformed. Still, she always was there the next morning to clean out his new wounds and cover his classes to deflect suspicion. No wonder all of their students thought that they were a couple. They took care of each other.

Now, he was alone, and so was she.

Eva hastily wrapped a robe around herself and slipped out into the hallway, desperate to just walk for a little while. She didn't know where she was going, and she didn't care. Movement comforted her, and she focused on the small details of her surroundings. The patter of her footsteps. The pounding of rain on windows. The soft snore of the occasional snoozing portrait. The clanging of the rings on her necklace.

A few minutes later, Eva realized that she'd wandered to a part of the castle she didn't recognize. That in itself was odd, considering all of the escapades she'd gotten into during her school years. The room was nearly empty, with massive windows. Only one piece of furniture occupied it.

Eva eyed the massive mirror with interest. It was a dull bronze, covered in at least an inch of dust, and yet she could still make out the lettering on the edges. After puzzling over the words, she concluded that they were written in a foreign language of some sort. Slightly confused by this, she stepped in front of the glass and her breath caught in her throat. Before she knew what she was doing, before she thought of all the pain it would cause, she uttered his name.

"Sirius."

Tears sprung in her eyes and she covered her hand with her mouth to hide a choked sob. As much as that image hurt, she couldn't tear herself away from it.

Sirius tilted his head at her in the mirror, his grin lopsided and kind. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder, his hair close enough to tickle her nose. Her hands went to cover his, but he wasn't there. Of course he isn't. He's never going to be ever again. 

Eva sank to the ground, pulled her knees to her chest, and began to cry. Her shoulders shook weakly as every wall she'd put up for ten years came crumbling to the ground in a single second. Because as much as she tried, she couldn't be truly happy, not like the girl in the old Polaroids. That girl died in 1981, and the one person who had the power to revive her would never be given the opportunity. 

"Professor?"

Eva's head whipped around and she quickly wiped the tears from her face, hoping that no one had seen her crying, but judging by the look on Harry's face, he'd been standing there for quite some time. 

The boy took a cautious step forward, like he was afraid to bother her. "Are... are you okay?"

"Yes." Her voice shook, and she fought to keep it even. It wouldn't do for a student to see her like this, although she knew that Harry was far more than just a student to her. "You shouldn't be walking around at night, you know."

Harry appeared not to have heard her. He sat down on the ground next to her and stared up at the mirror, a melancholy look in his eyes. "I've been coming every night for a week," he admitted. "I can't help it."

"You still shouldn't be wandering around alone after hours. It's dangerous." She chanced a look up at the mirror and nearly lost her composure all over again. What's life without a little risk? "I shouldn't even be up, honestly."

"Why are you up?" Harry questioned curiously, his gaze still on the mirror.

Eva shook her head and swallowed back her pain. "I couldn't sleep."

"I don't mean to pry. I reckon I'm probably being annoying, but, you look really upset."

"No," she chuckled, tucking a blonde curl behind her ear. "You're not annoying, Harry."

"Oh." He said this like it surprised him. Drawing his knees to his chest, he asked, "What do you see in the mirror?"

Eva froze. Where to even begin? I see your godfather, the only man I ever loved, the man I'm still hopelessly in love with,  the one with a lifetime sentence to Azkaban, the one who everyone else believes ruined all of our lives, and I've never been sure about that, which only drives me madder?

"Someone I lost," she said softly, settling for a half-truth. "Do you know how this mirror works?"

"I think so. It's what we want most. That's why I see my parents." Harry sighed, then ruffled his hair. "This is the first time I've really seen them both, that I remember."

Eva closed her eyes and ran her hands down her face. How had the boy gone eleven years without knowing just how much he looked like his father? How had he gone through life without anyone seeing his parents in him?

"I miss them, sort of," he whispered, "even though I barely remember them."

"I miss them too."

The words slipped out of her mouth without her approval of them, and she instantly wished that she could shove them back in. Her godson didn't need her pathetic grief, not on top of everything else he had to go through. No one needed that.

Harry tore his gaze away from the mirror to look at her. "You knew my dad. I know that. I saw pictures of the two of you playing Quidditch."

Eva was silent for a moment, wondering how exactly to continue. Then, a realization came over her. She couldn't give Harry his parents back, but she could give him memories of them. 

"I knew them both. They were family to me. They were always there for me, even when I lost my own family. I don't have parents anymore, either."

She felt more truthful than she had in years. The memories slipped out of her because they were wonderful things, and she couldn't keep them to herself anymore. 

"Your dad had this thing with messing up his hair. It was ridiculous. He was the best chaser I've ever seen play for Gryffindor. He-" she laughed a little under her breath, "-he was always such an idiot around your mum when we were back in school because he loved her since he was your age. He was like a brother to me, always taking care of everyone. I've never met a kinder man in my life."

Harry was hanging onto everything she said like a lifeline. 

"Your mum, she was one of my best friends. We shared a dormitory. I was a bridesmaid at their wedding. She was just so sweet and good. She was a huge fan of Star Wars. She loved school and always found time to help any of us that needed it. She loved red - that was always her favorite color, even when we were kids. And Harry, she loved you to pieces."

Eva felt a wistful smile stretch across her face as a single tear slipped down her cheek. James and Lily, two of the best people she'd ever met, deserved to be known and remembered by their son. An idea formed in her mind, but she stowed it away for later.

Harry gave Eva a bright, grateful smile. "Thank you, Professor. I wish I knew them half as well as you did."

"I wish you did, too." She stood, motioning for him to do the same. "Off to bed, now. I won't give you detention this time if you go."

"Okay. Night, Professor."

"Goodnight, Harry," Eva returned. The boy gave her a final smile, then disappeared down the hallway, and she turned back to the mirror. 

It almost looked like Sirius was watching his godson leave, too. 

Eva let out a long breath, pressing her forehead to the cool glass of the mirror. Sirius did the same, and she stayed there for the longest time, letting herself get lost in the fantasy for a while. When she finally regained control of her emotions, she left, returning to her bedroom for another sleepless night. 

songs for this chapter:

"ghost of you" by 5 seconds of summer
"saturn" by sleeping at last
"better man" by little big town
"weekend in new england" by barry manilow

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