December 18, 1978
Dear James,
No doubt you've gotten a hold of a copy by Prophet by now. I expect, therefore, that you've heard of the attacks. Maybe you were even called in to work on it. I heard they do that sometimes. Is it true? Anyway, so far I don't know much, just that many people were involved and that it was a series of planned attacks. James…the McKinnons...all of them. Marlene. The funeral is next week, just before Christmas I think. I'll have to find a dress for that. Perhaps that black one that I wore to Professor Bringle's funeral will do.
I'm at Remus' now. We're not sure what to do. We can't get a hold of Sirius. We're worried about him. Have you heard from him recently?
Hestia has stopped responding to our letters. She stopped answering Remus' long ago, but that was to be expected. They had too much history. She was hurting him, and she knew it. That's why she did what she did…and I'm sure she's gone for good now. At least before she'd right back every few months to let me know she was all right, but now the letters have stopped all together. I suppose this was just her way of slowly breaking off contact. You know, I think it's sort of good that she left though, as sick as that is. I mean I love her to pieces. She was my best friend…but she's so much safer this way. Hestia never was a fighter and now she doesn't have to. It's better this way. Last time we spoke she was in Australia, which should be far enough away from the conflict that she'll be okay. With any luck, she'll survive all of this. I miss her, though. One by one our friends are disappearing, and the days are getting lonelier and lonelier. It's sad, really.
I don't know how much detail I should go into…I don't want you to overreact, but I'm scared, James. I don't feel safe anymore. When this whole thing started, only twenty or so people would come into St. Mungos injured, but the number of them keeps rising everyday. Now people come in half dead, and it's our job to save them. I don't know if I'm even cut out for it really.
I read in the Prophet that fifty people have been kidnapped in the last month. Ten muggle families have died in the same amount of time. I hate it. I hate this war; I'm not even ashamed to say that anymore. I hate the premise of it. I hate that people keep dying. I've come to hate my job because of it. I hate that I keep losing friends because of it, and I hate that it's taken you so far away. Most of all, I hate what it's turned me into. I'm a bloody coward. I've been ignoring Dumbledore's letters… I can't bring myself to open them. They only bring bad news. Some Gryffindor I am…I should've been in Hufflepuff.
I don't know if you'll even get to read this. They've been restricting the post lately, and I don't know if they even let you receive mail at the Academy. Actually, I probably shouldn't even have written this. I really shouldn't send it. I'm sorry about all of this. You need to focus on becoming an Auror, not waste time reading petty letters from me. I'm not even sure why I wrote this. I guess needed to talk to someone, and I just want you to know that I'm all right. I'm doing the best that I can. I don't want you to worry…
But shit at the same time I do, and I am a really horrible girlfriend for admitting that. I worry about you every second of the day James, not a minute goes by that the thought doesn't cross my mind that you could be dead, and I wouldn't know. A part of me hopes that you worry too…because it helps me justify my worrying I suppose. I just miss you more than I thought I would. If you can, please come home for Christmas. I don't need gifts or anything or anything like that…just please come home. If you can't…well then Happy Christmas. I love you. Either way, I'll be here. I always have Luna and Jinx to keep me company.
Listen to your instructors. Remember: "damn it, make me proud, James!" And please…stay safe. You made me a promise, remember? I hope you intend to keep it.
All my love,
Lily
Ps. Remus says hello and that he hopes you're having a smashing time.