Disclaimer: Regardless of what I write on UCAS forms, I did not write Harry Potter.

A/N: Yes, this is a re-write of I Did It My Way. I haven't written anything in a long time and I thought the best way to get back into it might be to edit some of my older posts. There are no major differences from the first go but I think I prefer this version. I aim to post each Sunday but considering that this is the middle of exam season, that may slip. Next up is Peter to James.
Thank you.

Dear Sirius,

(I'm calling you Sirius rather than Padfoot because this is a serious letter and I want to set the tone with the second word. And the pun made me laugh.)

So…this is it. I'm dead. Well, bugger me. I for one never saw that coming. Nope. Not even with Voldemort thirsting after my blood.

As a married man – WITH A SON, no less, I like to think I'm somewhat in tune with my emotions. Writing this I realised that I'm really bloody not. I'm not quite sure where to start, but Lily says to do it by telling you how much I love you. I really do, mate. You're like my other half. I don't even care how gay that sounds! You're my man-whore, morally stunted, possibly criminally insane other half. Although don't tell Lily I said that as I have marriage vows that beg to differ. Not that Lily's a man-whore. I may be dead but I'm still scared of her.

I know that if I'm dead it means that Peter might have betrayed us, but I doubt it. I probably did something stupid and got us caught. Either that or Lily finally snapped and killed me. Not going to lie, I deserved it if she has. Look after her and Harry, please. Actually, get Remus to look after all three of you. I trust him more.
Not that he doesn't need looking after – get him a haircut, get him a girl, and for Christ's sake don't let him get drunk and listen to David Bowie at one in the morning! Seriously, one more rendition of Sound and Vision will be the death of me, and the reason why you are reading this letter.

I hate writing this! I feel like I'm calling the fates on me. Oh Christ, I sound like Pete! There's another one you'll have to look after. Make sure to take him for walks and feed him everyday and don't let him lose his head or be taken victim of larceny by muggle prostitutes again. That was a court-case to remember.

I demand a nice, tasteful funeral with burlesque dancers and fire-eaters and perhaps a Shisha bar in the back corner of the church. I know I'm not Catholic but I really feel like the Pope should take the service, add a little prestige. My coffin is to be lowered to the Countdown theme tune and I want you to all wear black and cry a lot. Ask Remus to make some of his chocolate cloud cake; people go crazy for that stuff.

Despite what I said about the crying, I don't want you to get too hung up on my death and revert back to the Prince of Darkness. I know what you're like, you'll come over all moody and shout at everyone and turn up drunk everywhere. Actually, knowing you you'll get arrested for something like indecent exposure and the money I've left you (don't complain) will be used as bail. I've left you all a bit of money and few other things, but I won't tell you what because I want the will to be a surprise. Make sure Remus actually takes what I give him and doesn't come over all...well, all Remus-y.
Anyway, if things get too hard just make the change to dog permanent. I always liked you more when you couldn't talk.

Regarding Remus, I know what your theories are but I'd like you to disregard them. Remus isn't an idiot, he knows that no matter what Voldemort says about werewolf rights, he doesn't mean it. I think that when I agreed with you about those things I was just panicking. Can you blame me? I have a kid to look after. And I was a little drunk. Don't tell anyone that I admitted this, but I still can't hold my drink. It's a source of constant shame that my wife can drink more than me.

I think that now is about the time for the touchy feely stuff: You are the best mate I could ever have had. This sounds cheesy, but you're basically my brother. Sirius, I know what it's like to be trapped so I want you to live your life to the full while you still can. Hopefully this war will be over in a bit and we'll all be able to go back to normal.

Just please, please, PLEASE look after Lily and Harry. If I'm gone Harry's going to need a dad, and failing that you'll do. Chances are, you're just reading this letter because it's my fiftieth birthday and I got drunk and, in a fit of sentimentality, decided to show it to you. I really hope you are at my fiftieth birthday party; I want to see you middle-aged. Possibly settled down? Or at least with a twenty-five year old blonde with never-ending legs?

I don't really have much to say, Pads. I've been writing this for two hours and now Harry's crying and it's my turn to change him. I always thought I'd have something dead witty and clever to say before I died, but I don't, so I'll just leave you with this:

I love you mate!

Love,

James

P.S. Lily says she loves you too.

P.P.S. I have written I list of excuses just in case. Pass them onto Harry when he's older.

Excuses

1. That woman in the bedroom was my healer, she was just giving me the once over for testicular cancer.

2. I cannot come to work today because we had a party last night and now there is a strange man in my bed.

3. The kneazle/dog/crup did it.

4. I'm late? I thought you were early!

5. Voldemort did it.

6. It's the Ministry's fault.

7. I don't have that paper because someone said you were a rubbish head of department and it got torn up in the fight as I defended your name.

8. I'm not drunk I'm just chemically inconvenienced.

9. My wand is broken.

10. I never said you were fat I just said there was a lot of you...personality wise I mean.

Love,

James