Harry Potter and the Search for the Truth

The Letter

It was a cold, windy night. All was quiet on Privet Drive. All of the residents had already gone to bed and had been sleeping for hours. All of the residents but one. One boy who looked to be about fifteen could be seen looking out the window, unseeing, to the street below. He was very pale, like he hadn't been out in months. He was very skinny for a boy of his height. His hair was black and looked like it hadn't been brushed in weeks. His eyes were the most brilliant colour of green, but they were clouded with grief and regret. Upon his forehead was a scar in the shape of a lightening bolt, which made him stand out even in the world which he belonged to. You see, Harry Potter was no ordinary boy of fifteen; he was a wizard. When he was only one year old, a terrible, dark wizard killed his parents. This wizard was named Voldemort. Voldemort had tried to kill Harry that night, as well, but the curse had rebounded upon its caster causing Voldemort to lose his body. The scar was a constant reminder to him of what he had lost.

Harry knew that he would not be getting any sleep this night. You see, a week or two earlier he had witnessed his godfather fall to his death in the Department of Mysteries. Every time he tried to sleep he had nightmares of his godfather blaming him for what happened. He knew he shouldn't feel this way, but he can't help but feel that if he had bothered to learn Occlumency Sirius wouldn't be dead. Every night he had an internal battle. The many "minds" he had arguing over this problem, as well as others.

Harry has different voices in his head. He has fourteen voices in his head where normal people only have two. Most people are born with one. But, if they go through a lonely time, or a traumatic experience they can gain another. If they don't by puberty they then acquire their second. He has had so many lonely and traumatic experiences, he has fourteen. Each mind, as he thinks of them, can present a different opinion when he is thinking. He also figured out last year that they can each cast different spells, causing him to be extremely good at fighting. Additionally, he could "assign" a voice a problem and it would come back to him a few days later and give him an answer.

Harry had been sulking for the last three or four days since he had gotten back to his aunt and uncle's house. He couldn't help but feel guilty for every person who had ever been hurt at Lord Voldemort's hand. There was a prophecy made shortly before his birth which pointed to him as the only one who could defeat Voldemort. So, very indirectly, you could call it his fault. But, no one would. As Harry was considering the wording of this prophecy, a small popping sound informed him he was no longer alone.

He grabbed his wand. He edged toward the door. When it opened he could see his former professor standing on the other side.

"Hello, Harry." But he didn't lower his wand. He had enough experience with Death Eaters to know better.

"How can I be sure you are who you appear to be?"

"Hmmm … Let's see … In your third year, you thought Sirius Black was out to get you when really it was Peter Pettigrew, who incidentally is a rat Animagus. Sirius was a dog and James was a stag, the same as your Patronus." At the mention of Sirius' name, Harry welled up. When Remus Lupin had finished speaking, he threw himself on the bed, facing the other way, so the older man wouldn't see his tears.

"Harry, before he died, Sirius gave me a letter to give you, if this happened." The werewolf silently handed him a letter.

Dear Harry,

If you are reading this, then I can only be dead. I can only hope that I died fighting or trying to help you and not of boredom being cooped up in this bloody house. However I died, I know you are blaming yourself. It is not your fault. I know you don’t believe me. IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT!! I still don’t think I got it though your thick skull. IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT!!! Okay. Also, I don’t blame you. I never could. Understand that I don’t want you to mope (as I know you are). I want you to learn from this and use it as a way to strengthen yourself.

If Dumbledore has not yet revealed to you your fate, pester him until he does.

Harry, I understand how hard this all is for you, but you cannot pull away from your friends. The Weasleys love you like you are their own. Don’t push that away. Also, Ron and Hermione have always been there for you. No matter what, nothing you tell them could change that. You might feel like you need to go it alone, but you need them, Harry. You need someone to rely on. Someone to confide in. You also, need to learn to love. Take it from someone who knows; don’t wait until it is too late. I know you. You will be pushing away your friends. But, don’t. That is a mistake.

This might not apply, but if you have any feelings for Ginny, whatsoever, do NOT wait. She is a great young woman. She might be the only one who can understand how you feel, with the Voldemort stuff. She can help you through this. She has waited long enough. Don’t make her wait any longer.

Just remember, love is something Voldemort will never understand. Take advantage of that. Fill yourself with love. Love in return.

Harry, always remember, I love you. Your mother loves you. Your father loves you. Nothing can ever change that.

Never forget me. Never push away your friends. Never.

So, for the final time…

Mischief Managed.

Love,

Sirius Black, Padfoot, Heart Throb, Heart Breaker, Godfather, Best Friend, and Stand-in father to Harry Potter.

P.S. IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT!!

Tears silently traced their way down Harry’s face. Different phrases had stuck out at him. I don’t blame you. Harry smiled a watery half-smile. Sirius didn’t blame him. He felt the hole in his chest where Sirius used to be healing some. Never push away your friends. Harry thought about the many unanswered letters under the loose floor board guiltily. Harry knew that they meant the best but he wasn’t quite ready to talk yet.

The part about Ginny was… unexpected. But, the more he thought about it the more it made sense. He thought about how, since joining this world at Platform 9¾ he had felt belonging like he never had before. But, thinking back, there had always been something missing. He had always thought it was his parents. But, they had already owned a hole in his heart. No, this missing piece was Ginny. He realized how stupid he had been. This whole time they had wanted nothing more than to be together, but he had been too thick to even realize what he wanted. He would need to talk to Ginny when he went to Grimmauld place later this summer.

He looked at Lupin. "Do you blame me for Sirius' death?" Harry had a look of hunger on his face. Hunger for the truth. Remus looked surprised.

"No, absolutely not. How could you think that?" he looked as if he really couldn't understand why he would think that.

"I led him to the Ministry. If I had worked harder on Occlumency I never would have gotten that image and Sirius would be alive. Hermione told me to practice. I was so stupid. I let him die. I would understand if you never wanted to talk to me again."

"Harry, Harry, Harry. When will you realize that not everything is your fault? You went to the Ministry with the intention of saving Sirius. If you had known that the vision was fake, you wouldn't have gone. You risked your life trying to save him. If any thing you should know that once Sirius knew you were at risk, nothing short of a nuclear explosion could stop him from coming for you. Also, I will never abandon you. You are Lily and James' son. That in itself is enough for me. But, in addition, you have saved countless people's lives, you were like a son to Sirius, and you are always thinking of others. Any one of those would be enough, but you are them all. You are a very special person.

"Sirius wouldn't blame you. I don't blame you. No one blames you. Sirius wouldn't want you to feel guilty. He wouldn't have wanted you to feel sad. He would have wanted you to celebrate his life by causing as much mischief as possible. He would say, 'Give Snivellus a hard time for me.'"

Harry finally realized that he wasn't responsible for the actions of Voldemort.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said in a coarse whisper.

"Harry, I haven't been your professor in a long time. Please call me Remus or Moony."

"Yes, Pro - Remus."

"Well Harry I must be off. We should be getting you out of here in as short a time as possible." And with that Remus Disapparated with a small pop.

Harry suddenly realized how tired he had been. He lay down on the bed and slept peacefully for the first time in weeks.