Some call it a miracle. Others call it a hallucination. But whatever it is, it's definitely something unheard of. I'm sure you know of the story of Harry Potter: The Boy Who Lived. His parents died to save his life, and as a result of their love and sacrifice, Harry became pretty much untouchable. Harry Potter was not born a special baby – he was not born untouchable. He had inherited everything from his parents, including their magic. But the “special” I'm referring to was thrust upon him. Because of the mistake of one Severus Snape, his parents were murdered, and Harry became the boy he is today. If it weren't for Lily Potter's sacrifice, Harry would not have lived the night Tom Riddle visited his house. If it were not for Lily Potter's sacrifice, he would not have had the curse backfire, and give him some of Tom Riddle's powers. If it were not for his parents in general, and the people around them, Harry Potter would not have become “The Boy Who Lived”.

   These are harsh words, especially coming from Harry Potter's deceased godfather. But I knew Harry's parents, and I can honestly say that they were truly special when together. Because of them, a miracle happened. You've heard about the miracle they gave their son. But have you heard about the miracle surrounding their death?

   I am Sirius Black, and I am finally ready to tell the story.

*** November 1981 ***

   “Come in.” There was a squeak as the door opened, and a timid young man, wary-looking and thin, stepped into the room.
   “Professor?” he greeted timidly, looking around. He finally spotted a tall, elderly looking man dressed in formal robes, sitting in a lobby chair.
   “Albus,” the old man corrected lightly.
   “You...you called?”
   “Remus Lupin, I believe you know why I've called you here?”
   “A man can only assume.” Remus finally mustered up enough strength to walk over to Albus, and shook his hand. Albus's grip was firm and comforting, but Remus just couldn't return the shake with the same warmth.
   “I really only planned to see them at the viewing,” Remus said uncomfortably, running a hand through his shaggy, ungroomed hair.
   “I think you'll want to see this.” Albus gestured with a wrinkled hand to a door behind the secretary's desk. Remus sent the secretary a questioning look, and in response she nodded to show him it was perfectly fine to enter.

   Just as Remus reached for the door knob, however, the door opened by itself. Remus jumped a bit, and a tall figure, draped completely in black, stormed past the two of them, wiping his eyes on his sleeves as he went.
   “Severus was here?” Remus asked weakly.
   “I'm afraid that Lily and Severus did not part on good terms,” said Albus, sounding almost regretful, and he opened the door for Remus, gesturing to the inside of the room.
   “But that's neither here nor there. I invited you here today to see your friends.” Remus frowned and glanced inside the room.
   “...Albus, I can't...”
   “Go on, Remus.” Albus placed a hand on his shoulder. “You were their dearest friend.” Remus glanced at Albus, at his long, white beard and hair and fine attire, and sighed. How could a man, who knew these two just as well as Remus did, be so well composed?

   Finally stepping into the room, Remus immediately felt uncomfortable. He could see the large coffin which held his two friends. Inside there was one woman and one man, both unmoving.
   “Albus, why do I-”
   “Move closer,” Albus interrupted.
   “Take a good look at them.” Remus could feel his throat tightening and his eyes growing warm. Why was he being forced to look at them? This just made everything so much more real; he didn't want to accept the fact that he would never see them again after the next day, never be able to talk to them or play with them and their son... Ever since his mother passed away the previous year, they had been the closest thing he had to family. Sirius Black, a man he had once viewed as his brother, had killed his friends. Sirius Black killed not only the two lying on the table, Lily and James Potter, by selling them out to Voldemort, but Peter Pettigrew too...Remus was the only one left in the 'family'.

   “Sir...” Remus protested softly, and Albus gave him a gentle push.
   “Look.” Remus let out a sob as he was brought within touching distance of the bodies. He didn't want to see them, they weren't dead, they couldn't be dead, they-
   “...P-Professor?” he asked, forgetting to use Albus's first name again. Albus let it slide and nodded towards Lily and James once more, silently telling him to get another look. But he had seen it – it was the most bizarre thing!

   It was as if someone had arranged the two bodies. Actually, he wouldn't be surprised if someone had. Everyone that knew James and Lily had wanted them to be buried together in the same coffin, so it wouldn't be very strange if they were positioned the way they were then. But the oddity of it all lay in their expression: They were...smiling.
   “Wh-what is this?” Remus asked softly, as if wondering if some sort of spell had been cast.
   “I don't know, Remus. No one does. The undertaker, he had just finished cleaning and dressing them, so all he had left to do was position them for how they should look during their viewing. Just as he moved them into this position, he reports that they...'smiled'.”
   “You're kidding,” Remus breathed.
   “It's almost like – like...”
   “They're only sleeping?” Albus finished, and Remus nodded, his eyes wide with amazement.
   “I called you here not only so you could see this for yourself, but...to ask you a question.” Albus glanced at Remus, and by his expression, Remus knew that he was about to bring up a very sensitive subject.

   “Sirius did a grave thing. A cruel thing. Everyone knows that. But...I believe that at least, at some point, he was truly their friend.” Remus looked away uncomfortably; he did not believe the same anymore.
   “Professor, surely you're not suggesting-?”
   “It is Albus, dear Remus, and I am not suggesting pulling Sirius out of Azkaban, if that's what you were about to say.” Remus shut his mouth and sent Albus a guilty look.
   “I am suggesting...taking a picture, and sending it to Sirius. It may torture or please him. But either way, I think he deserves to see this.”
   “Do whatever you want, Albus, but I am taking no part in this project of yours.” The old man just smiled and pulled out a camera.
   “So I have your permission, then?” Remus paused, eyeing the object in Albus's hand. It felt almost disrespectful to let him take a picture of them, but...
   “Yeah.” he said softly. He could never say no to Albus Dumbledore. No one could.
   “But please...don't mention Sirius's name again.”
   “I give you my word.” Albus promised, and stepped away from the door.
   “Thank you,” said Remus, and after offering Dumbledore a weak pat on the shoulder, he left the room, his tattered robes billowing about his feet.

   Sirius did indeed receive the photograph, not too long after it was sent. It came in the morning mail, and after ignoring Cornelius Fudge's interrogation, Sirius pulled the photograph out of his pocket and looked at it. It was not moving, but he could tell by the quality that it was taken with a magical camera. He almost tore the photo in half, realizing who it was a picture of, before he noticed their expressions. He didn't do it. He didn't kill them. And he thought no one had believed him...until now. Lily and James knew the truth now – they had to. This little ray of hope was suddenly sucked from him, and the cell he was in grew even colder.

   But how, he had to wonder amidst his freezing torture, could they smile, knowing that they would never wake up again?