The last feather vanished, and so did Slytherin.
I hadn't known him long. Hours, maybe. But those hours carried the weight of years.
My past, his revelations, the bond he revealed between our families… and now, his death.
And Slythra, who was no longer just his daughter, but mine to protect.
A part of my heart ached too. His death didn't shake the foundation of my soul, but it left a mark nonetheless.
He had been a father, a friend, a guardian… above all, a man who tried to be good.
And now, all that's left of his was his daughter. The only person who had a part of him on this world.
I stood silently, watching Slythra's small shoulders shake, her fingers sliding at the empty space where he had been.
Feathers, if they could still be called that... had vanished, leaving only faint motes of light clinging to the air before dying out.
Her sobs echoed off the walls, loud yet broken. They tore into me more than any blade ever could.
I should have moved.
Said something.
Anything.
But my tongue was heavy, and my chest felt hollow.
It wasn't my grief to claim.
Yet it wasn't hers to bear alone.
Slowly, I knelt beside her.
Close enough for her to feel I was there, far enough not to take away what was hers to mourn.
"Slythra," I whispered, but it sounded weak, frail.
I realised I had no words.
I didn't know what to say, or how to comfort her.
I wished I had the right words but I didn't.
So I did the only thing I could.
I stayed. I sat with her, silent, while she worked her grief.
-----
It's been more than hour since Slytherin left this world.
Slythra had cried herself to silence. Her sobs went on and on, breaking into hiccups and silence, only to rise again as if grief itself refused to loosen its grip.
Now she just sat in silence, her tears all dried up. Every so often her shoulders trembled, but no sound came out anymore.
I stayed near her, not speaking. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to speak first, or if she would.
Words felt useless.
At some point, without realizing it, she shifted. First just a little, dragging herself across the stone in small, weary movements.
Then closer still, until her fur brushed against me.
I didn't move, didn't stop her. There was no reason to.
The moment Slytherin died, she had become my daughter... and i would be there for her until my last breath let loose as well.
Her head dipped with exhaustion, and before long it rested against my side.
It carried both, a quiet weight and a fragile trust.
And I let it stay there.
The grief still existed, but somewhere in that silence, the sobbing faded into the rhythm of slower breaths.
She had fallen asleep and her frame looked even smaller now, swallowed whole by weight of losing a loved one.
Long before, exhaustion caught up with me as well and I let my own eyes close.
----
Maybe minutes had passed.
Maybe hours.
I wasn't sure.
My eyelashes fluttered, and the walls of the cave came into my view.
My head turned, and I could feel the soft weight of Slythra's head against me.
At last, she stirred.
Her ears twitched, and she tried to speak something...
"Sirius... " She stopped, frowning, as if the name didn't sound right anymore.
Her mouth opened, closed again.
The words wouldn't come.
I understood.
She didn't know what to call me now, more like what she was supposed to call me.
"You don't have to decide yet," I said gently. "Call me Sirius for now. Or whatever feels right. When the time comes… if you want to… you can call me papa."
Her eyes lingered on me, uncertain, but she gave a small nod.
"This situation seems similar to what I had with your dad just before, doesn't it?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood.
" Uhh hm. " She didn't speak much, but I could see a soft smile on her face.
Then, softly, she asked, "The diary… Do you know where it is?"
I shook my head. "No. I thought maybe your father had told you something."
She shook hers too, wiping at her eyes with the back of her paw. "Then… maybe we should look. If it's here, he must've left us a sign."
I nodded and we moved deeper into the cave. Past the outer chamber and , into the space that must have been their home.
The space was smaller here, more enclosed, its walls curved smooth by time and damp with a faint trace of moisture.
Old furs lay in a heap against one side, flattened maybe they used it for bedding.
A crude table of stone fixed from the wall, cluttered with vials, scraps of parchment, and books whose spines were softened from years of turning.
There wasn't much here. Maybe, this was just there bedroom of sort.
There was also a bookshelf, with tons of books in it but no book pulled the thread in my heart.
We looked around, but found nothing of sorts.
" Maybe it's not here" I said with a sigh.
" We should look around more, my dad must have kept it somewhere here "
" Who knows? Why couldn't he just tell m- "
"Look!" Slythra gasped
In the far corner, faint markings shimmered on the wall.
Feathers, glowing pale as if left behind when his body had unraveled.
Slythra stared, wide eyed. " This is weird. I've never seen this before. Could it be after he- "
She didn't complete the sentence but we both knew what she meant.
We approached, and the glow led us to a heavy stone lodged against the wall.
" Ready? " I asked
"Yes. All ready"
Together, we pushed, muscles straining until it shifted with a low grind.
Beneath it lay a shallow hollow cut into the wall
Inside, wrapped in worn cloth, was a book no larger than my hand.
Its cover was deep blue, the edges frayed, and even in the dimness it seemed to pulse faintly, like it still carried his touch.
Slythra's breath caught.
My fingers closed around it.
The diary.
I finally found it.
At last, it was mine to hold.