Well, this is what i write when i'm depressed. Isn't that nice. A bit of Angst for you all.

Warnings: Could be seen as SLASH i suppose.

Alive In another Form

I know it's been years but I still see him. I tell myself Harrys not him, but he is, to me anyway.

He was my everything, my life. Does that mean nothing? Plus, it was my fault he died... Surely I can be a little bit mad if I want to be. I spent twelve years in Azkaban!

He lives on. He always will, in Harry, and that's why I couldn't stand seeing Harry die or be unhappy. He was never unhappy. He was always cheerful, always laughing. He's happy in my dreams too. Now I'm out of Azkaban I don't dream of that night much anymore. But when I do, I always see his eyes. Staring up at me, blank, glassy, dead.

Nobody understands me; they think I'm being silly. They just don't know me. Not even Remus does. But then, Remus never knew me as well as he did. He knew everything about me and I him.

When we were younger, we never pictured the rest of our lives without each other. Away from the other two, we'd plan out the rest of our lives. Together always. No Evans, No Harry, No-one. Just us.And that's why it hurts so much.

I remember one time, he told me: "If I die, Sirius, remember me. I don't want to be forgotten and when I die. So remember me, I'm scared no-one else will."

I never thought I'd have to. I just thought he was having a sentimental moment.

But he was right you know. No-one remembers him. They all think of Harry, not him. He's been forgotten, him and Lily, as the people who brought Harry here.

Sometimes I just want to scream.

He'll always be here; no-one can take that away from me.

James Potter isn't dead. He's just alive in another form.