Harry could hardly breath, staring down at the animgus form of his long dead Godfather. Suddenly, Sirius was up by his face, whining in his ear and licking at his cheeks, and Harry realised his was crying silently. He buried his shaking hands in Sirius’s thick, black fur, and clung to him while he cried into his neck. This was torture unlike any Harry had ever known - tearing his soul between the family he had waiting for him, and the family long gone here in his arms. Molly was stroking his hair again, muttering soothingly into his ear. He suddenly wished Draco hadn’t been sent away - he was the only one who would understand the agony that this was.