A series of letters that Lily Potter had written to Remus Lupin, between the time Lily and James were married till right before their final days.

Pairings: Lily/James, Remus/Sirius, Lily/Snape.

Dear Remus:

I CAN'T believe you gave James and me such a wedding gift! Though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised since you are a Marauder after all, but you always seemed like the modest type. I honestly would have expected something like that from Sirius rather than you. James is still laughing about it, you should see him right now, rocking back and forth as though Imperiused and his glasses dangling dangerously off the tip of his nose. Which reminds me: why would a wizard still need glasses? Doesn't St. Mungo's have a cure for far-sightedness, or am I being hopelessly Muggleborn again?

Anyway, thanks for the 'gift.' I'm sure James will find a good use for it. Ideally, some ten Quiddich field distances from me.

Everything's lovely. Sirius set it all up just beautifully. I know you had a hand in it though, since Sirius wouldn't have thought of the lavender soap or the utter lack of ceiling mirrors. Thanks for being a friend with a dash of taste.

Also, thanks for being a friend about the other thing. Don't worry, it was just wedding nerves or something like that, it doesn't mean anything. Sorry about your handkerchief, but I suppose it's not the first time it's ever known the tears of fools.

Lily

Dear Remus:

We thought of you the other night. I hope all is well.

What do you mean that you didn't really get that gift for us, but it was Sirius playing a joke on you? And what do you mean he said that James always wanted to know 'what it was like'?

I suppose I just don't see why we have something like Skele-Gro, but we have no cure for bad vision. Oh well, as the Muggles say: we can send a man to the moon...(I'm being insensitive, aren't I.)

Please don't worry about the other thing. I have no regrets. The other thing, it never happened. Really.

L

Dear Remus:

I wish I knew someone who could help. James hates not being there for you during the full moon. Even though it can't do you any good while we're all the way over here in Crete, Prongs makes an appearance just the same, hoping to keep you company in some way. Though I imagine Padfoot is quite adequate company for you during these times.

Oh, Remus! Crete! It is stunning. Beautiful beyond anything. The beaches are like your bones bared under the naked sun, it feels so good. There are colours that don't exist in Britain, or anywhere in the world for that matter: think of that blue square in the window to the left of McGonagall's office with the sunset light coming through it, crossed with the purest Slytherin green. That's the colour of the sea, here. There are ancient murals depicting what the witches and wizards from times gone by had done. Did you know that they did handstands on the horns of charging bulls? And that's just the beginning! Then there is the Minotaur and the maze! Of course all the Muggle tourists here think it's made-up stuff. I remember when I used to think that things like that were made up too, before I met- before I went to Hogwarts. You must laugh sometimes at my Muggleborn ways of seeing things. James sometimes taunts me about it, but he thinks it's 'adorable'.

Sirius was right about our wedding gift. I think I understand him a little better now. Oh, did I just write that?

Love, L

Rems:

I'm so glad that Padfoot is 'helping.' Please pat him on the head for me and tell him he's a good doggie. James wonders if P's learnt how to fetch your slippers yet, but it might be best not to tell P that James said as much.

I'm sure you and Sirius will have plenty of time to visit Crete and anywhere else you want to go! What could be stopping you? I would imagine that you just need to plan your trips carefully. And you KNOW that Sirius would do anything for you. He doesn't mind if you don't have two knuts to rub together. When you truly care for someone, things like money don't matter at all, not one bit. Especially in light of other things.

We are heading to Spain, then to Scotland before we settle in Godric's Hollow. James has a house chosen already. He says he doesn't want me to see pictures of it until we get there. Rems, I truly hope it's nothing big and fancy, you know how much I can't stand that, but James-he likes to do things on a grand scale, in case you haven't noticed. Of course I'll be happy anywhere with him, but I hope we live in a home that feels like a home.

Love,

L.

Dear Rembaud:

I'm sorry it's been so long since I have written you back. Spain was lovely, as was Scotland, but it all seemed to go by so fast, and then we came back to Godric's Hollow and I was busy getting the house in order and everything like that.

Speaking of which: I'm so happy it's not a grand mansion, but a little cottage not far from the square. It's almost as though James had read my mind and knew I didn't want anything big and fancy, but rather something as modest as possible. Don't worry however, it's not just a box. It's lovely and charming, quite like when Mum and Dad took Tuney and me to see where Shakespeare grew up. It was as if James plucked that memory right out of my head and made sure our house was like that! Though I suppose no witch or wizard would be caught dead in some sprawling subdivision! Tell me Rems, do only Muggles live in dumpy houses? No that can't be, since-

Thank you for the book of poetry. I've been half starved for good things to read. James is lovely but he wouldn't know the difference between a verse and-well, a fart! But what he lacks in literacy he makes up for in generosity. Remus you've never seen such flowers as he has sent to the house daily. Birds of paradise and orchids (he has a penchant for Muggle posies, sweet boy) and dragon roses. He tries so hard, who could not love him? The only thing he won't permit is my own potions setup. He says we can easily order anything we want by owl. I comply with this only to keep the peace, but I miss the work. I was the best potioneer in our year, after all. Yes, I said the best.

We hope you come to dinner sometime soon. Big shaggy slobbery dogs optional.

L.

Dearest R:

Thank you once more for gracing our home with your presence. (Tell Padfoot that Prongs is still peeved about the "present" Padfoot left on the brand-new living room rug.) I'm sorry the pudding was burned-no, I am sorry everything was burned-but I'm glad that the vintage James provided seemed to make up for my faults. Unfortunately, just because one is an excellent potioneer doesn't ALWAYS mean that one's also an excellent cook since the former is the art of science while the latter is the science of art, or something like that.

I thought what you had to say about Wuthering Heights over dinner was very interesting but upon further reflection I have to disagree with you. I don't believe that Cathy should have pined away for Heathcliff. She should have seen what a beastly prat he was. His behavior toward one and all should have shown her that he was not someone whom she could hold in high esteem. I agree that loyalty is a good thing but to be loyal to someone like that? Then again, she wasn't very admirable herself, was she? To be truthful my favourite character was Hareton. He was raised like a mongrel too, just like Heathcliff, yet he turned out to be a fine man. See the difference?

I wish I knew a potion that could help you with your predicament. There are rumours that someone is attempting to create something along those lines. If I hear anything more, I will let you know.

Visit us any time. You needn't even ask, just pop by. Padfoot is another matter entirely.

Love, Lily

Remus:

I know you've already gotten James' owl but I needed to write my own note about it.

So we're carrying on the Potter line. We even got a letter of congratulations from Dumbledore. Maybe that's what made me realize who the Potters are. As you know, for so long I merely thought of James as an arrogant toerag showoff. Obviously I've changed my mind a bit. But Merlin's beard! A letter from Dumbledore! Is James' family really that important?

In between bouts of morning sickness I enjoyed reading your most recent letter. I especially liked the way you described exactly how the winter light gleams on Padfoot's muzzle while he's asleep in front of the fireplace. As much as I appreciate the books you send me, I do believe I like your own words even better. Please humour a witch in the 'family way' (vomit again) and continue to write to me, if you can spare the time. Your letters are a great comfort to me. In fact, you remind me a bit of a person I'd known a long time ago who'd been able to soothe me in a way no one else has, before or since.

Take care, dear friend. Write soon.

Love, L

Dear Remus:

I saw him today. It was in Flourish and Blotts, when I went there to look for baby books. He was in the stacks, reading something, and-and he looked up the moment I walked in! His face, Remus. It was as though he'd went ahead of me in time, and aged a generation. His eyes were dead, they scared me. He blinked at me once then almost flew out the door like a frantic bird.

The morning sickness is over, but now I feel as though someone had cast an inflatable charm on me. I'm as big as the Giant Squid! James does what he can, but most of the time I want him to bugger off and leave me alone. I'm sure you've had owls from him complaining how impossible I am, and I don't blame him, I have been rather impossible. But I'd like to see HIM waddle around with a quaffle on his belly and his ankles so swollen he can't put his shoes on and see how HE feels! If only I had a kind sister instead of Petunia! Of course she's hardly spoken to me since I'd married James, but then again, we haven't been close for years. However I don't see how she dare criticize me about whom I'd married when her husband makes Filch seem like a kind, reasonable person. At least I have Alice to talk to, since she's due around the same time as me and understands!

I wish I was able to do more for the Order but James insists I refrain from going to meetings until the baby is born. I tell him that I am pregnant, not handicapped. But I know he's being this way because he's worried for me. We are all worried though, aren't we?

Love, Lily

Dear Remus:

As I know that James has already sent you about six dozen owls rhapsodizing on the wonders of Master Harry James Potter, I will rein in my enthusiasm and merely state that we are now the parents of an unreasonably healthy and happy tot. He's barely figured out how to nurse and already James is trying to teach him to ride a broomstick. I suppose I should be glad that James is so ecstatic about his son and heir, but honestly I am just too tired.

Sorry this letter is so short. You and Padfoot are welcome to come over at any time to help. (Well, perhaps not Padfoot.) I was certain that being a witch would make motherhood easier, but I assure you it does not.

Wearily yours,

L.

R:

Do you believe people can change?

I know you'd never disliked Severus the way that James and Sirius had, so I can ask you this the way I couldn't ask James. But what would you think if I told you that it had been Severus who'd warned D about V? On the one hand, nothing can convince me that he would have taken a risk to protect not only me, but JAMES and HARRY. He'd turned his back on me forever when he'd chosen his path. And yet-

None of you ever knew the shy boy who was also the most brilliant wizard ever seen. You also don't know how lonely Severus was, so lonely that any kind of friendship offered to him he'd take! And I mean ANY kind of friendship. Think of that sort of brilliance combined with that kind of desperation. Do you understand? If you do, then you understand that Severus was lost the moment You Know Who extended a hand to him. And once Severus sets his sights on something, he never turns back. Never.

Or so I thought. Maybe I'm wrong. What do you think? Is it just me wanting to believe that my old friend isn't completely lost after all? Am I just mad?

L

Dear Remus:

I hope all is well with you. Things being what they are, I know it will be a long time before I see you again. However, when this all blows over, we'll be sure to invite you and Wormtail and Padfoot for dinner. Yes, even Padfoot. I think that by then James would have forgiven P for what he did to James' study. Hopefully by that time, Harry won't have grown too big. I would hate for you and Sirius to miss out on his babyhood. Especially since Sirius is his godfather. I certainly hope however that Sirius won't be too disappointed to find that Harry doesn't favour James, at least not yet. He's a happy baby, true, but not much of a troublemaker. In fact, he's quite the sweetest, most biddable baby I've ever seen. Only time will tell, I suppose.

In the meantime, have a happy Hallows' Eve. By the way, did you know that on Hallows' Eve Muggles dress up as ghosts and goblins and witches? I used to do so too until Sev laughed at me and asked why I was going as a Muggle version of what I already was. He told me what would really be in store for us on Hallows' Eve when we finally went to Hogwarts: floating candles, cauldron cakes, bats and pumpkin juice and just marvelous things, all the things I've always dreamed of, but Sev assured me they were real. Hogwarts was still two years away for us: still a bright, untarnished hope on the horizon. I kept asking him if it would really happen for me too, since I didn't have magical parents. He assured me that my magic was 'amazingly good' and I had nothing to worry about. We lay on the grass near the river in our secret place, arms around because of the cold, the October sky ours. Did you know that he smelled of vervain and cloves, and coal? That he wrote beautifully? That he could make me laugh better than anyone?

Why did he leave me, Remus? Why?

Please give my love to Sirius and Peter. And know that I am always your faithful

Lily