#reader insert imagine

Harry walks into the kitchen of Grimmauld place with a photo clutched in his hands, his eyebrows knit together as he moves over to where Sirius is sitting at the table. By chance Sirius had come across some of James’ things, tucked away and forgotten about in the back of a closet; he’d given them all to Harry, hoping that his godson would find something in the mix of things to help him feel closer to his father. 

“Hey,” Sirius looks up as Harry starts to speak. “Who’s this in the photo with you?” 

Sirius takes the photo from Harry, looking down to see a much younger, happier version of himself, arm slung around your shoulders, the both of you laughing. He remembers the day pretty clearly, remembers Remus snapping the photo of the two of you without you knowing, but he can’t remember what the two of you were laughing so hard at, it sends a sharp twinge through the pit of his belly. 

The two of you had dated through the later years of Hogwarts, moving into a rundown London apartment the day after you finished school. Sirius had thought about you a lot over the years, especially when he was locked up. He thought about everything that had happened through that first war, the loss and the ugliness and how you’d always stayed a ray of light in his life, no matter how grim things were. 

Sirius’ eye glaze over has he hurriedly tries to blink away the tears before Harry notices them. There’s a barely there smile on his lips as he traces his finger delicately over the photo, all the small details in your face that his memory hadn’t done justice. 

“That’s y/n,” He whispers, a deep ache in his chest. “She died a long time ago.” 

*Gif not mine*