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Harry swallowed; his voice seemed to have deserted him. He did not think he could stand to discuss Sirius; it had been painful enough to hear Uncle Vernon say “His godfather’s dead?” and even worse to hear Sirius’ name thrown out casually by Slughorn. “It was cruel,” said Dumbledore softly, “that you and Sirius had such a short time together. A brutal ending to what should have been a long and happy relationship.”

JK Rowling (The Order of the Phoenix)

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And Harry saw very clearly as he sat there under the hot sun how people who cared for him had stood in front of him one by one, his mother, his father, his godfather, and finally Dumbledore, all determined to protect him; but now that was over. He could not let anybody else stand between him and Voldemort; he must abandon forever the illusion he ought to have lost at the age of one, that the shelter of a parent’s arms meant that nothing could hurt him. There was no waking from his nightmare, no comforting whisper in the dark that he was the last and greatest of his protectors had died, and he was more alone than he had ever been before..

Harry Potter (JK Rowling, The Order of the Phoenix)

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And now another head was emerging from the tip of Voldemort’s wand… and Harry knew when he saw it who it would be… he knew as though he had expected it from the moment when Cedric had appeared from the wand…knew because the young woman with the long hair fell to the ground as Bertha had done, straightened up, and looked at him… and Harry, his arms shaking madly now, looked back into the ghostly face of his mother. “Your father’s coming…” she said quietly. “Hold on for your father… It will be alright…hold on…”

And he came… first his head, then his body, tall and untidy haired, like Harry, the smoky, shadowy form of James Potter blossomed from the end of Voldemort’s wand, fell to the ground, and straightened like his wife.