The God of Valor

Amelia Bones sat alone in her dimly lit quarters, the shadows of the evening stretching long across the walls. Her posture was rigid, shoulders squared as though she bore the weight of the world on them—because, in many ways, she did. A half-empty bottle of Firewhiskey sat on the table before her, its amber liquid gleaming in the flickering candlelight. She stared at it for a long moment, her face set in a storm of emotions: grief, anger, and betrayal.

With a sharp breath, Amelia poured herself another glass, the sound of the liquid splashing into the crystal breaking the oppressive silence of the room. She hesitated, the glass hovering near her lips, as her gaze flickered to the framed photograph on the mantle. It was an old one, taken during happier times. Sirius Black stood beside her, his grin as roguish as ever, an arm slung around her shoulders. James and Lily Potter laughed in the background, their joy captured in perpetual motion.

Amelia's jaw tightened as she looked away, her chest constricting painfully. "You bastard," she muttered under her breath, her voice low and trembling. She knocked back the Firewhiskey in one gulp, the burn in her throat no match for the fire in her heart.

How could he have done this? The thought churned in her mind, over and over, refusing to settle. Sirius Black—a man she had trusted, admired, even loved—had betrayed the Potters, sold them out to Voldemort. It was unthinkable, and yet, the evidence was damning. James and Lily were dead, Peter Pettigrew was gone, and Sirius… Sirius was a murderer.

She slammed the glass down onto the table with more force than necessary, her frustration boiling over. "Why, Sirius?" she demanded aloud, her voice breaking the solitude. "Why would you do this to them? To us?" Her words hung in the air, unanswered, the silence mocking her.

The memories flooded in, unbidden. She saw Sirius as he had been: charming, reckless, and utterly devoted to his friends. She heard his laugh, rich and full of life, and felt the warmth of his hand in hers during the rare moments when they had let their guards down. Those memories clashed violently with the image of the man in Azkaban, accused of betraying the very people he had sworn to protect.

Her hand trembled as she reached for the bottle, pouring another drink. This time, she didn't bother with the glass. She drank straight from the bottle, her resolve crumbling beneath the weight of her anguish.

"You always had a knack for turning everything upside down, didn't you?" she said bitterly, her voice thick with unshed tears. "Couldn't just follow the rules, couldn't just… stay loyal."

Her words faltered, and she closed her eyes, pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead. Deep down, a part of her refused to believe it. The Sirius she knew, the man who had fought beside her during the war, who had loved the Potters like family, could not have done this. But the other part—the pragmatic part that had been shaped by years in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement—warned her against such sentimentality. People lied. People betrayed. Even the ones you thought you knew best.

"Damn it, Sirius," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Why didn't you come to me? If you were in trouble, if you needed help, why didn't you—" She stopped herself, shaking her head as if trying to banish the thought. It didn't matter now. The damage was done.

The knock at her door startled her, pulling her abruptly from her spiraling thoughts. Amelia frowned, quickly wiping at her eyes and setting the bottle aside. "Who is it?" she called, her voice sharper than she intended.

"It's Moody," came the gruff reply from the other side. "Let me in, Bones."

With a resigned sigh, Amelia waved her wand, and the door creaked open to reveal Alastor Moody, his magical eye whirling as he took in the scene. His gaze lingered on the bottle of Firewhiskey before snapping to her face, his expression unreadable.

"Drowning your sorrows won't bring 'em back," Moody said bluntly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

Amelia shot him a glare, her voice icy. "I don't recall asking for your opinion, Alastor."

Moody grunted, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. "You think you're the only one who's hurting? We all lost people, Bones. But sitting here wallowing in it won't do you—or anyone else—any good."

Amelia stood, her movements sharp as she rounded on him. "Don't you dare lecture me," she snapped. "You don't understand. You didn't—" Her voice caught, and she turned away, her fists clenched at her sides. "You didn't know him like I did."

Moody's expression softened, just slightly. "You're right," he said, his tone gentler. "I didn't. But I know you, Amelia. And I know you're better than this." He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. "If you really believe Sirius betrayed them, then do your job. Find the truth. Don't just sit here drinking yourself into oblivion."

Amelia's shoulders sagged, the fire in her fading to a weary ember. She knew he was right, even if she hated to admit it. Taking a deep breath, she turned back to face him, her gaze steady despite the turmoil within. "You're right," she said quietly. "I owe it to James and Lily to find out the truth. No matter what it is."

Moody nodded, a hint of approval in his sharp gaze. "Good. Now, get some rest. You'll need a clear head for what's coming."

As he left, closing the door behind him, Amelia sank back into her chair. She stared at the bottle of Firewhiskey for a long moment before pushing it away, her resolve hardening. She didn't know what the truth would reveal, but one thing was certain: she would find it, no matter how painful it might be. For James, for Lily, and perhaps even for Sirius.

—

Amelia Bones jolted upright, her heart pounding as the sudden burst of light from her backyard bathed her room in a blinding glow. Her Auror instincts snapped into action. Wand in hand, she moved with practiced precision, her chair clattering to the floor behind her. The Firewhiskey she'd been nursing was forgotten as adrenaline coursed through her veins, banishing the haze of alcohol and grief.

Pushing open the back door, she stepped into the crisp night air, her senses razor-sharp. The light was almost otherworldly, illuminating every blade of grass and casting shadows that danced unnaturally. Amelia's jaw tightened, her grip on her wand firm as she scanned the area. Whatever—or whoever—had caused this, she would not be caught off guard.

"Show yourself!" she called, her voice ringing with authority despite the uncertainty that gnawed at her gut. Her eyes adjusted as she cautiously advanced, each step deliberate. The glow began to dim, coalescing into the shape of a figure standing at the epicenter of the light.

Her breath hitched. At first, it was impossible to reconcile what she was seeing. Her mind screamed impossibility even as her heart dared to hope. Standing before her, bathed in an ethereal orange and gold radiance, was a woman she had buried nearly two years ago—a woman she had loved like a sister.

"L-Lily?" The name tumbled from her lips, raw and trembling, as if saying it might shatter the fragile illusion.

The figure stepped forward, her movements fluid and deliberate. Her red hair, vibrant and untamed, cascaded over her shoulders, glowing as though kissed by sunlight. Her robes were unlike anything Amelia had ever seen, regal and flowing, embroidered with intricate designs of leaves and blossoms that shimmered faintly in the dim light. She radiated an aura of power and serenity, an unmistakable presence that stole the very breath from Amelia's lungs.

"It's me, Amy," Lily said softly, her voice carrying a melodic warmth that cut through the cold night air. Her lips curved into a small, knowing smile, one Amelia remembered so well. But there was something more—something deeper in her green eyes, a wisdom that hadn't been there before.

Amelia staggered backward, her wand hand trembling. "No… No, this can't be real." She shook her head, her voice rising in pitch. "You're dead. I—" Her voice cracked, the wall of composure she had built over years of discipline and days of grief crumbling.

Lily took another step closer, her smile tinged with sadness. "I know what you've been through, Amy. And I'm sorry for all of it—for what you had to carry alone." Her words were soft but carried the weight of unspoken truths, piercing through Amelia's spiraling disbelief.

"Sorry?" Amelia barked, her anger rising to the surface, overtaking the confusion. She pointed her wand directly at Lily, her hands shaking. "Don't you dare say you're sorry! You died, Lily! You left all of us behind! And now you're just… here? What in Merlin's name is going on?"

Lily tilted her head slightly, her expression calm yet tinged with regret. "I understand your anger, Amy. I do. But I didn't come back to hurt you. I came back because there's something you need to know—something I couldn't tell you before."

Amelia's laugh was bitter, her eyes narrowing. "Oh, how convenient. The dead don't stay dead anymore, and they show up in people's backyards glowing like the bloody sun, offering cryptic explanations. Forgive me if I'm not feeling particularly trusting right now."

Lily's expression softened, and she held out her hands, palms up, as if in surrender. "You don't have to trust me, not yet. But you know me, Amy. Look at me. Look at my face, my eyes. You know me."

Amelia hesitated, her wand still raised but her grip loosening. Her rational mind screamed at her to keep her guard up, to question everything. But her heart—the part of her that had never stopped mourning Lily—was screaming louder. She lowered her wand slightly, her voice a whisper now. "If you're really Lily… then prove it."

Lily's lips quirked into a smile, this one more familiar, tinged with the teasing warmth Amelia had missed so deeply. "Alright. Remember the night James tried to set you up with Sirius? You hexed him so thoroughly he couldn't sit for a week."

Amelia blinked, her resolve faltering as the memory rushed back. "You… you laughed so hard you spilled wine all over your dress," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "And then you made me clean it up because you said it was my fault."

Lily took another step closer, her voice softening. "And you told me I was insufferable, but you did it anyway. Because that's who you are, Amy. You take care of everyone, even when you're hurting."

Amelia's wand dropped to her side as the tears came, hot and unrelenting. "It really is you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "How? How is this possible?"

Lily closed the distance between them and placed her hands gently on Amelia's shoulders. "It's a long story," she said, her tone tinged with sadness and hope. "But I was given a second chance—we were given a second chance. There's still so much I don't understand, but what matters is that I'm here now."

Amelia stared at her, searching Lily's face for any trace of deception and finding none. She let out a shuddering breath and did the only thing she could. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms tightly around Lily, her body trembling as years of grief and anger poured out in a flood of tears.

"I thought I'd lost you forever," Amelia choked out, clinging to Lily as if she might vanish again.

"You'll never lose me," Lily whispered, holding her just as tightly. "Not now. Not ever."

For the first time in days, Amelia allowed herself to believe it.

—

Amelia stands in stunned silence, her heart racing as Lily—no, Eirlys—reveals the unimaginable truth. The glowing light of the backyard seems to fade in comparison to the dazzling revelations being shared before her. She listens with a mix of disbelief and awe, her mind struggling to keep pace with the depth of the tale being told. Amelia had thought she knew her friend inside and out, but what Lily—Eirlys—has told her is far beyond anything she'd ever imagined.

"Eirlys," Amelia repeats softly, the name still unfamiliar on her tongue. "How can this be? I don't… I don't understand."

Lily—Eirlys—smiles, but there is a quiet sadness in her eyes as she watches Amelia process the weight of the story. She takes a breath, letting the cool evening air fill her lungs before speaking again.

"In Asgard, I was Eirlys," she says, her voice carrying a gentle weight, a mixture of pride and longing. "I was a princess, born to a world unlike anything you can imagine—a place where the gods walk the earth and the very sky is woven with magic. I had a sister, Hela—the Goddess of Death—and our mother, Frigga, was the Queen of Asgard. My father… was Odin." She says the name with reverence, but there's a flicker of something darker in her gaze. "And there, I was part of something grand, a kingdom that ruled over the Nine Realms."

Amelia can only listen, her brow furrowed as she tries to wrap her mind around what she's hearing. She's known Lily for years, as her close friend, her confidante—never once did she suspect that the woman she knew had such an extraordinary past.

"I was raised with a sense of duty," Eirlys continues, her voice growing more distant, as if the weight of memory was pulling her back to a time long gone. "Peace reigned for a time, but Odin—he desired more. Conquest, control over the realms. I couldn't stand it. I couldn't align myself with the endless wars he waged. So, I defied him."

Amelia's eyes widen, the shock of hearing this from the soft-hearted Lily—Eirlys—shocking in its enormity.

"You… defied Odin?" Amelia asks in disbelief. "But—what happened?"

Eirlys' gaze darkens, her hands twisting slightly in the folds of her dress, a faint sadness creeping into her voice. "In the end, my defiance led to my exile. I was sent to Midgard, the realm of mortals—of humans. I was reborn as Lily Evans, in a small house in England." She looks down at the ground, the weight of those words heavy with meaning. "It was a punishment, a chance for me to learn humility, compassion... to understand what it meant to be mortal."

Amelia takes a hesitant step forward, her heart breaking for the woman she once knew as Lily. To think that such an ancient, powerful being had been exiled to live as a mere mortal, stripped of her glory. It didn't seem fair.

"But why—" Amelia begins, but she's cut off by the sound of Eirlys' soft chuckle, which carries a note of bittersweet humor.

"Because," Eirlys explains, her smile returning with a tenderness that made her appear almost fragile in that moment, "I had much to learn. Not just about love, but about loss, about the fleeting nature of life. My time on Midgard was supposed to help me grow, and it did. I found Harry. My son."

At the mention of Harry, Amelia's breath catches, and the realization of what Eirlys is saying settles heavily in the pit of her stomach.

"I prayed that night," Eirlys continues, her eyes growing distant again, her voice breaking slightly as she recalls that fateful night. "When Voldemort came for us, when he killed James, when I knew that I couldn't save Harry alone… I prayed. I didn't expect a miracle. But I prayed, for Harry. I begged for something—anything—to protect him. And then... he came. Odin himself."

Amelia's heart skips a beat, the pieces finally starting to click into place. "Odin? You're saying he saved you? He—he killed Voldemort?" Her voice is quiet, almost reverent, as if saying the name Voldemort in such proximity to Odin's power could make it all too real.

Eirlys nods, her expression filled with both sorrow and gratitude. "Yes. Odin arrived just in time, destroying Voldemort's body. But I don't believe he's gone, Amelia. I believe he's still out there, somewhere." Her gaze grows sharp, her jaw clenched as the weight of that knowledge settles in. "But my son, Harry—he is Haraldr Jameson Potter now, named by Odin himself as the God of Valor. And I… I've taken him to Asgard. He's being raised there, in the halls of the gods."

Amelia feels a wave of disbelief wash over her, her mind trying to process the enormity of it all. Her best friend, this woman she has loved like a sister, is not only a goddess but a mother to the God of Valor—and she's raising him in Asgard. The realm of gods and immortals.

"I don't… I don't know what to say, Eirlys," Amelia murmurs, her eyes filled with awe. "This is… this is beyond anything I could have imagined."

Eirlys's smile softens, a flicker of warmth in her eyes. "It's a lot to take in, I know," she admits, taking a step closer to Amelia. "But through all of this, through everything, one thing remains true—no matter where I came from, or what I've become... I will always be here for you. And Harry—Haraldr—he'll always be yours, too, in his own way. You're family, Amelia. Always."

Amelia blinks back tears, her heart swelling with emotion as she steps forward, enveloping Eirlys in a tight embrace. "And I'll always be here for you, Lily. No matter what comes next."

The weight of the past few days, the horrors of the attack, the death of James, the mystery of Voldemort's survival—all of it seemed to pale in comparison to the bond between them. In this moment, Amelia realizes that whatever may come, the ties of sisterhood and friendship will never be broken.

"I love you, Eirlys," Amelia says, her voice soft, raw with emotion. "No matter what world you come from, you're my sister."

Eirlys closes her eyes, letting the words wash over her. "And I love you, Amelia. Thank you, for believing in me."

They stand together, in that quiet moment, bound by the shared history of two souls whose paths had intertwined across time and realms. And for the first time in days, Amelia feels a peace that had eluded her since the fateful night of the Potters' death.

"I'll be there for you both," Amelia vows, holding onto her friend, her sister, for as long as she can. "Whatever comes, we'll face it together."

—

Amelia's eyes flash with a mixture of disbelief and anger as she hears the name "Sirius Black." Her fists clench at her sides, and her face darkens with the weight of the betrayal she had believed Sirius to be responsible for. The anger swells in her chest, palpable and fierce.

"Lily, that man—Sirius Black—he betrayed everyone," Amelia spits out the words, her voice thick with rage. "He was supposed to be your friend, and yet he turned on you. He turned on James... He deserves to rot in Azkaban for what he's done."

Her words tremble with the depth of her hurt. Amelia's eyes shine with the echo of grief, the loss of her closest friends compounded by the betrayal she had thought Sirius had committed. The memory of the Potters' deaths, of how they had died in that house, still feels raw—like an open wound that refuses to close.

Lily, seated across from her, feels the surge of anger in her friend's words, but remains calm. She breathes deeply, steadying her thoughts before she speaks. The truth is too important, too necessary, to be veiled by past misunderstandings. Amelia deserves to know. They both need to know the full story.

"Amelia…" Lily begins, her voice soft but unwavering, much like the calm before a storm. She takes a moment, her thoughts returning to the painful memories that had only just started to resurface. Her eyes glisten with an unfamiliar sadness, a sorrow so ancient it feels like part of her very soul. "Sirius did not betray us. He was framed. It was Peter Pettigrew—Pettigrew was the one who betrayed James and me, not Sirius."

Amelia's body goes still, her chest tightening as if the air in the room had been sucked out. The name Pettigrew rings in her ears, and she stares at Lily with wide eyes, as though trying to understand the gravity of the words just spoken.

"Peter… Pettigrew?" Amelia whispers, her voice barely audible, struggling to process what she's just heard. "But that—how is that possible?"

Lily meets her eyes, her expression grave, but resolute. The truth, painful as it is, must be spoken.

"Peter faked his own death, Amelia. He used dark magic, twisted magic. He framed Sirius for his own crimes." Lily's voice falters for just a second, but she steels herself. She must speak this truth. "He's the one who betrayed us to Voldemort, not Sirius. He used his Animagus form—he turned into a rat, and no one would ever suspect him."

Amelia blinks, trying to piece together the lies she had held on to for so long. She had believed in Sirius's guilt with all her heart, just as everyone had. But hearing the conviction in Lily's voice, the raw pain that laced each word—Amelia feels the foundation of her anger begin to crumble.

The silence hangs between them, and for a moment, Amelia feels like the rug has been pulled out from under her. She's still processing the reality of the situation—everything she thought she knew, everything she had felt about Sirius—shattered like glass, sharp and jagged.

Her anger, once so fiery and consuming, begins to shift. It twists into something softer, something more like disbelief and sorrow. She exhales slowly, a shaky breath, feeling the weight of everything she's been carrying for days start to break free.

"That bastard... all this time..." Amelia's voice trails off, the words too painful to finish. She had been so certain of Sirius's betrayal. So certain that his actions had doomed the Potters. But now? Now it's all wrong. And her mind refuses to accept it.

Lily nods slowly, the truth a bitter pill she has had to swallow herself. She reaches for her friend's hand across the table, her touch gentle and firm. The weight of her own revelations—of what she had known all these years but never dared to speak—was heavy, but sharing it with Amelia lightens her heart.

"I know, Amelia," Lily says softly, her voice carrying an edge of vulnerability. "I know how you feel. I felt that too... that pain of losing James, of thinking it was Sirius. But now, we need to fix it. We need to right the wrongs."

Amelia swallows hard, nodding slowly, feeling the shift in her heart, the fog of confusion clearing. She looks down, her fists slowly relaxing at her sides. Her eyes burn, but not with rage. With guilt. Regret. "I don't even know what to say... I can't believe I—"

"Don't, Amelia," Lily interrupts gently, her expression softened. "There's nothing to apologize for. We were all deceived."

The next words that leave Lily's mouth are unexpected—her voice firm, but with an unmistakable undertone of hope.

"Sirius isn't in Azkaban anymore."

Amelia freezes, her head snapping up. "What?" Her voice is a breathless rush, and her entire body seems to stiffen with a mixture of confusion and hope. "What do you mean? How is that even possible? He—"

"Amelia," Lily continues, cutting through the flurry of questions. "My brother Loki broke him out. He took Sirius to Asgard. He's safe now."

A stunned silence follows. Amelia's mouth opens, but no words come out at first. Her mind struggles to comprehend it all. Loki, the trickster god, freeing Sirius? Asgard? The implications are mind-boggling.

"You're telling me Sirius is... in Asgard?" Amelia finally manages, her voice laced with disbelief. She laughs softly, the absurdity of the idea bubbling up despite herself. "Sirius, of all people... in Asgard. That's just... well, I can't say I'm surprised. But I am relieved."

Lily nods solemnly. "Yes. Loki did what no one else could have. And I promised Sirius I'd make sure you knew the truth. I know how hard it is to accept, but he's not the man you thought he was."

Amelia snorts, humor glinting in her tired eyes. "Typical Sirius, always getting himself in and out of trouble. And now he's got Loki as his partner in crime." She shakes her head with a grin tugging at the corner of her lips. "I'm sure those two are going to cause some chaos... I can just imagine it."

Lily can't help but smile, the relief of knowing Sirius is safe blooming in her chest. "Oh, absolutely. I wouldn't put it past them to find trouble just by breathing."

But as the laughter dies down, Amelia's expression hardens once more, a flicker of unease crossing her face. She's not sure how, but the thought of Sirius and Loki together—two of the most unpredictable, powerful beings she knows—has her stomach twisting in knots.

"If those two are together," Amelia muses, her voice taking on a thoughtful tone, "then trouble is coming. Big trouble."

Lily's smile falters for a moment, and she nods in agreement. "I know, but we can't do anything but prepare. For now, we know Sirius is safe. And that's what matters."

A moment of silence passes between them as they both absorb the weight of the knowledge they've shared. The truth has come to light, and while the journey ahead remains uncertain, one thing is clear: they have each other. And no matter what happens next, that bond will be their guiding light.

—

Lily's voice, filled with warmth and understanding, cut through the tension that had been building between her and Amelia. "He's waiting for me to call on him," she says with a soft smile. "Sirius is dying to meet you."

Amelia's chest tightens at the mention of his name. The words sent a ripple of hope through her, like a beacon in the midst of a storm. After everything, the thought of seeing Sirius again—safe and free—seems too good to be true. But as Lily's eyes shine with that familiar spark of determination, Amelia feels the weight of all the uncertainty begin to lift.

"Thank you, Lily," she says, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for everything. I can't... I can't even express what this means to me."

Lily's eyes soften with affection as she places a hand on Amelia's shoulder. "You don't need to thank me, Amelia," she replies in her soothing voice. "We're family. And family looks out for each other. Sirius is safe, and I'll make sure it stays that way."

Amelia swallows hard, her chest tightening with the powerful emotions swirling inside her. She knows that the road ahead won't be easy, that there are still battles to fight. But for the first time in what feels like forever, she has something to hold on to: the promise that Sirius, her friend, her beloved, is still out there, waiting.

Lily looks to her with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Do you want to see him?"

The question catches Amelia off guard, and her heart skips a beat. Seeing Sirius again? After everything? Her voice is small as she replies, but her gaze never wavers from Lily's. "Yes. Yes, I do."

Lily smiles at her, her expression one of quiet reassurance. She takes Amelia's hand, squeezing it lightly before calling out in a voice that echoes like a distant command. "Heimdall! Open the Bifrost!"

The world around them blurs for a moment, and then the skies above them crack open in a swirl of radiant light. The Bifrost—a bridge of rainbow hues—appears in the distance, illuminating the darkened landscape with its ethereal glow. The air hums with power, and as the light grows brighter, Sirius and a figure beside him materialize before them, stepping out of the iridescent beam like apparitions from another world.

Amelia's breath catches in her throat as her eyes lock onto Sirius. The last time she saw him, his face had been a haunting image behind the bars of Azkaban, his eyes full of guilt and sorrow. But now, standing before her, he is the same Sirius she remembers—dark hair, sharp features, a grin that never quite fades from his lips.

Her legs almost give out from under her as she takes a step forward, but before she can reach him, the emotions flood her heart. Relief. Anger. Joy. Betrayal. The realization of how much time has passed, how much pain she's endured, all crashes down on her in an instant. And in a burst of motion, Amelia rushes forward, not to embrace him—but to deliver a right hook so powerful it seems to echo through the very fabric of Asgard.

The force of her punch sends Sirius stumbling back, his eyes wide with surprise as he instinctively raises his hand to his face. "Ow!" he exclaims, his voice tinged with genuine shock. He blinks, looking at her with a mix of confusion and mild pain. "Amelia, what the hell?"

Amelia stands before him, fists clenched tightly at her sides, her body trembling with the whirlwind of emotions she can't quite control. Her chest heaves with every breath as she glares at him, her eyes blazing with an intensity that's both fierce and betrayed.

"You idiot!" she spits, her voice shaking with a mixture of anger and raw emotion. "Do you have any idea what you've put me through? For days, I thought you betrayed us! I thought you were the one who—" Her voice falters as tears threaten to spill over, but she fights to maintain her composure. "I thought you were the one who left us to die!"

Sirius looks stunned, and for a long moment, he stands frozen in front of her, trying to process the pain and fury in her eyes. His lips part as if to speak, but words fail him. He feels the sting of her punch not just on his skin but in his heart. He can feel the weight of her anger, the years of pain and grief she's carried all this time.

"I never wanted to hurt you, Amelia," he finally says, his voice a quiet, pained whisper. "I never wanted you to think that about me. I was just trying to keep Harry safe. I thought—"

"Safe?" Amelia interrupts, her voice hard, her eyes locked onto his like a blade about to strike. "You didn't think about me—about the people who loved you, who trusted you." She steps back, her fists relaxing at her sides as her gaze softens, a storm of conflicting emotions churning in her chest. "I didn't know what to believe, Sirius. All these days, I thought I was wrong to ever trust you, to ever believe in you."

Sirius swallows hard, his eyes clouded with guilt. He takes a step toward her, his hands reaching out, but Amelia holds up a hand to stop him. She lets the silence hang between them for a moment, allowing the weight of their shared history to settle.

"I never wanted you to doubt me," he says finally, his voice low and full of regret. "But I know I failed you. I know I hurt you. And I can never take that back." He takes another step, his eyes filled with a quiet desperation. "I will spend every day making it up to you, Amelia. I swear it."

Amelia's breath catches in her throat as she looks at him, her heart torn between anger and a desperate yearning for the friend she once knew. Her voice cracks when she speaks again, softer now, though still raw with the years of hurt.

"I don't know if I can forgive you," she admits, her gaze searching his. "But I want to try, Sirius. I want to believe in you again." Her words are filled with uncertainty, but the flicker of hope in her heart refuses to be extinguished.

Sirius steps forward, carefully, his movements slow and deliberate, as though he is afraid she might disappear if he moves too fast. He raises his hand toward her cheek, his fingers gently brushing the side of her face. "I'll give you all the time you need," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "Just... just know that I am here, and I always will be."

Amelia hesitates for a moment before reaching up to place her hand over his, holding it there for a moment longer than necessary. The two of them stand there in the quiet aftermath of their reunion, their unspoken words filling the space between them as they take the first steps toward healing the wounds of the past.

Behind them, Lily watches with a quiet smile, the warmth in her eyes reflecting her quiet hope for the two of them. The road ahead may be long and uncertain, but for now, they are together—and that, in itself, is enough.

---

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