A Love Letter

A Love Letter

Ottery St. Catchpole, England, the Black house...

Sirus Black was a broken man.

Two hours ago, his life had been ripped apart. Two hours ago, his heart had been broken, twice, because two hours ago, Lily and James Potter had fallen to the wand of the Dark Lord Voldemort.

He had raged, he had wept, he had thrown things, broke things, yelled until he felt his throat would burst. But none of it helped. Grief clogged his throat like a lump of heated iron. His tears had long since run dry. His breath came harsh and ragged, racking, dry sobs shaking his entire frame.

His house lay in ruins. There wasn't an article of furniture in the house without a leg missing, and glass, papers, and books were strewn about haphazardly. He stalked about looking for something else to destroy, to vent his rage, grief, whatever it was, but instead, his eyes fell upon a blank parchment. A quill lay quivering, upright on the parchment, its tip poised over the aged vellum. Before he even knew he had moved, he was already dipping quill into ink.

Lily. James.

I love you. I miss you. I love you. God, I miss you.

Lily. You knew I loved you. You knew, and you married James. I guess that means you loved me back, but in a different way. I didn't know that at the time, and it's taken me this long to accept it.

God, I've been such a prat. All these years we could have been building a friendship, and I had to waste it on some stupid jealous mental block I have. I love you, I still do, and I always will. And I'm happy for you and James, I really am. Thinking of you two together, wherever you are, is the only way I'll ever get through this.

I know you would hate me for blaming this on myself, but I can't help it, James, it's just the way I am! You were my first and best friend. You weren't supposed to die! You were supposed to grow old with me, and be my best man at my wedding. You were supposed to be the godfather of my children. This friendship, when all others failed, was supposed to be constant. It would have been, too, but I was never good at this relationship stuff. Losing you will always be my fault. I should have been there, Prongs! I should have done something! You should be here!

But you're not. And now all I've got are some memories. The Marauder's Map, and all those pranks we pulled on Snape. The House Quidditch cup, seventh year. I still know the exact score of both teams. Thinking of that, even now, brings a smile to my face. I guess it's because you're in it. I can picture you in my head, grinning that way you do, raising that Cup high...

And because of me, now you're only a memory.

I can hear you both now, calling me a prat for even thinking that.

But I can't help it. I keep thinking about how you should be alive this minute, tucking little Harry into bed, telling him you love him -

Oh god. Harry. He's mine now, isn't he?...I - I'll do my best, Lily, James. I know it won't be enough, but I'll try my damnedest. I could never give him what you could have, but I'm damn well going to try.

And I know - not one minute for revenge. You wouldn't want me to waste my life that way, and I won't.

I love you both so much. I'll miss you for the rest of my life. Lily, James - we had some good times.

And now it's time to let you go.

Goodbye.

He signed the parchment with a flourish, and slumped, exhausted over the still drying ink. He managed to gather enough strength to slide the letter into a hidden drawer, then sat, staring at nothing. His mind was devoid of all emotion, the only feeling left being of a large emptiness.

He did not move for a while, even when a wizard Apparated into the room, and pointed his wand at him.

"Sirius Black, you are under arrest for the murders of Lily and James Potter. You will report with me back to the Ministry dungeons, where you will spend the night, waiting for your trial on the morrow. Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

Sirius closed his eyes, jerking a last tear from his dark eyes. It splashed onto the parchment, smearing the ink. He did not move still when the wizard grasped his arm and Apparated him away, his mind completely blank.

* * * * * *

Sixteen years pass...

The candy red train pulled into the station with a burst of blue smoke, its whistles screeching wildly. Sirius Black stood, surveying the activities with a wondering expression on his face. It had been so long since he had stood in any public area without anybody screaming his name in horror. Peter Pettigrew, the true criminal of the multiple murders that Sirius had been framed for, had been apprehended by Ministry Unspeakables three weeks ago. Even though it had been already been quite a while since he had been cleared, his heart was still soaring in his chest. A mere summer breeze could set him to grinning foolishly, and every little thing he saw, such as bumps in the floor, would not cease to amaze him. It was like discovering his whole life again.

Being free was a new feeling to him, but he was beginning to get used to it.

And since he was free, he would finally be able to keep a promise to some old friends. Harry Potter was to come live with him in his flat in Ottery St. Catchpole - permanently.

As Sirius watched his godson step off the train, he felt that nothing could mar the happiness he felt now.

Harry grinned happily as he caught sight of Sirius. He noticed that the cares that had creased his godfather's face had finally left him, and he seemed decades younger. The laughing young man in his photo album was finally back.

"Sirius!"

They hugged each other awkwardly, but sincerely.

"How've you been, Sirius? You look a lot better. You've lost that, 'I'm a convict, get away from me or I'll bite you' look."

"Yeah, well, not being a convict anymore will do that. The biting part...well, only when I'm really hungry. Wait, scratch that. Only if you're a beautiful woman and you're into that kind of stuff."

Harry laughed, and started pulling Sirius toward the exit.

"So, we're in Ottery St. Catchpole. You have a house, right? With beds, and running water? Not just some enlarged cardboard box?"

"A house, you say? I have a manor. An estate. A small kingdom. Look, here's a picture."

He showed it to Harry.

"That's a cottage with a dead tree in the front yard."

"Well, it's sort of a small estate. It's the best I could do...haven't got a lot of money since I've just gotten out of jail. And it was on such short notice..."

Harry looked up at Sirius, who seemed seriously worried Harry wouldn't like his new home.

"It's great, Sirius, it really is. It's loads better than the Dursley's, no matter what it looks like."

He grinned up at Sirius, who looked relieved. They were now standing outside of the station, and Harry held out his wand, signaling for the Knight Bus. Sirius stopped him.

"Never mind the Knight bus, We'll get there a bit faster if we do it my way."

He grasped Harry's arm, and spoke quietly so Harry couldn't hear. The next thing he knew, Harry was inside of a quaint old house, surrounded by worn wooden walls.

"Sirius! You can't Apparate me, I'm not of age!"

"It's all right, Harry. After wrongfully placing me in Azkaban for eleven years, they aren't exactly going to get on my back about some slightly underage Apparating. Anyway, since when do you care about the rules?"

Harry looked dumbfounded for a minute. "Oh. Right."

Sirius disappeared into a back storage room. "I've got to get some stuff cleaned up, just look around and make yourself comfortable."

Harry nodded, and began exploring the house. The first floor was fairly ordinary, with a fireplace, comfortable chairs, and a large rug of what appeared to be troll hide. He went upstairs, and discovered the only closed door in the house. He whipped out his wand and used the Opening Charm on it.

A beaten old mahogany desk was the only thing in the study, and Harry instinctively sat down, running his hands over the worn wood. He felt around under the desk, and discovered a strange knob. He twisted it, and felt his breath leave him as a spring-loaded drawer popped out and struck him in the chest.

A wrinkled, tearstained old parchment was the only thing inside. He saw the words written at the top, and his eyes widened.

Lily. James.

I love you. I miss you. I love you. God, I miss you.

Harry Potter straightened his glasses, a searching expression on his face, and began to read.