A word that filled up the dark.

He was a hero. He was useful, loving, reckless. He was a prankster-and Harry's only family. He was handsome, kind, helpful, hopeful. He WASN'T careful. He WASN'T evil.

A word that seemed to repeat itself, then echo continuously, bouncing off walls, as he glared at Snape, as he fought for Harry, as he disappeared into the veil.

As Harry cried his heart out for him.

And as a little boy, almost killed Snape.

As a little kid, high fived James. His best friend, practically his twin.

Lazy, arrogant child, he was.

And yet…somewhere behind that small plastered-on grin, despite his ordering friends around…

There was something.

There was a normal boy, hateful parents, boy who broke a tradition.

There was a lonely, smart puppy.

Under these puppy dog eyes.

Even though he welcomed danger…

Harry, his only family member, his best friend, his godchild the clone of James Potter, only much more modest-and he meant so much more.

Which made a huge difference.

Harry was incredibly loyal, and so, so NICE, so kind.

It was sometimes irritating to see how Harry was so cautious.

As a godfather, it was his duty to keep an eye on Harry.

That is, until he had to topple through the veil.

He wasn't like the rest of the Blacks. He was unique. He wasn't a Death Eater. His name? Sirius Black.