"Hope is the denial of reality."
- Margaret Weis, Dragons of Winter Night
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------------------------
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the Harry Potter universe. Those belong to J. K. Rowling. The plot has been utilized, but not frequently.
Warning: Dark/Depressed!Harry. Heavy Angst. Eventual character death.
Chapter One: Denial
Dear Sirius,
Things have gotten a bit better around here. All thanks to the Order threatening the Dursleys. Really, I think they're more frightened of Tonks showing up with hot pink hair and Moody's eye popping out sporadically than the possibility of being turned into toads. I could just imagine Aunt Petunia shrieking about what the neighbors would think.
I still have to do all the chores, but I'm no longer punished if I don't finish them. I'm fed just as much as the rest of the family. Thank the Gods Dudley's diet seemed to have worked while I was at Hogwarts. He's no longer the size of a baby whale; I'd say he's the isze of a baby elephant now. Aunt Petunia threw a bloody party when he lost his 20th pound. I'd bet a hundred galleons he's back to a whale before the end of the summer.
I hope you're doing well and that your mother's portrait and Kreacher aren't giving you too much grief. I look forward to visiting you later on in the summer at 12 Grimmauld Place.
Hedwig is sleeping at the moment and I don't want to wake her. I'll send this first thing in the morning. Say hello to Buckbeak, Professor Lupin and any other Order member that may be wandering around the house.
Harry
Dear Sirius,
I haven't gotten a reply to my first few letters. I'm hoping that Dumbledore may have just finally let you leave the house and sent you on a mission or something.
Please be careful and say hi to Buckbeak and the others.
Harry
Dear Sirius,
It's 12:01 on the 31st of July. It's my 16th birthday. I received the usual gifts plus a few more. A bright orange Canons t-shirt from Ron. A book on how to become an Auror by some guy named Claudius Conatus from Hermione. A tin of rock cakes from Hagrid. At least I'm no longer forced to eat them because I don't get enough food from the Dursleys.
Mrs. Weasley sent me a tin of fudge. Fred and George sent me a huge box full of their newest Weasley Wizard Wheezes, insisting that their 'third partner in crime' be the first to 'test' them. Ginny sent me a red and gold figurine of a phoenix; I really hope she's not getting another crush on me. Luna sent me a book on Thestrals written by an anonymous author. And the rest of the DA sent me an assortment of cards.
Not to sound impertinent, like Snape always accuses me of being, but why didn't you send me a gift? Are you alright? Please write to me soon.
Harry
Dear Sirius,
I got my O.W.L. results today. I got O's in Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration. E's in Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology and Potions. An A in Divination and P's in Astronomy and History of Magic.
I guess I won't be able to become an Auror. I needed an O in Potions to get into the N.E.W.T. class and Potions is a requirement in becoming an Auror.
Are you ashamed of me? Would my parents be ashamed of me?
Sirius, please, where are you? Please be okay. Please write back.
Harry
P.S. Please don't laugh at my acting like a poof, but I love you.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Two months into the summer of 1996, a slightly underfed but steadily growing boy sits in the corner of a sparse room.
A snowy white owl across the room hoots dolefully but the boy pays his pet no mind.
The boy has his thin strong arms wrapped tightly around his legs and tears are silently running down his face.
Next to him is a pile of letters that will never be answered.
Author's Notes: This will be a short fic. I hope you like it. Any response is appreciated.
- Margaret Weis, Dragons of Winter Night
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------------------------
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the Harry Potter universe. Those belong to J. K. Rowling. The plot has been utilized, but not frequently.
Warning: Dark/Depressed!Harry. Heavy Angst. Eventual character death.
Chapter One: Denial
Dear Sirius,
Things have gotten a bit better around here. All thanks to the Order threatening the Dursleys. Really, I think they're more frightened of Tonks showing up with hot pink hair and Moody's eye popping out sporadically than the possibility of being turned into toads. I could just imagine Aunt Petunia shrieking about what the neighbors would think.
I still have to do all the chores, but I'm no longer punished if I don't finish them. I'm fed just as much as the rest of the family. Thank the Gods Dudley's diet seemed to have worked while I was at Hogwarts. He's no longer the size of a baby whale; I'd say he's the isze of a baby elephant now. Aunt Petunia threw a bloody party when he lost his 20th pound. I'd bet a hundred galleons he's back to a whale before the end of the summer.
I hope you're doing well and that your mother's portrait and Kreacher aren't giving you too much grief. I look forward to visiting you later on in the summer at 12 Grimmauld Place.
Hedwig is sleeping at the moment and I don't want to wake her. I'll send this first thing in the morning. Say hello to Buckbeak, Professor Lupin and any other Order member that may be wandering around the house.
Harry
Dear Sirius,
I haven't gotten a reply to my first few letters. I'm hoping that Dumbledore may have just finally let you leave the house and sent you on a mission or something.
Please be careful and say hi to Buckbeak and the others.
Harry
Dear Sirius,
It's 12:01 on the 31st of July. It's my 16th birthday. I received the usual gifts plus a few more. A bright orange Canons t-shirt from Ron. A book on how to become an Auror by some guy named Claudius Conatus from Hermione. A tin of rock cakes from Hagrid. At least I'm no longer forced to eat them because I don't get enough food from the Dursleys.
Mrs. Weasley sent me a tin of fudge. Fred and George sent me a huge box full of their newest Weasley Wizard Wheezes, insisting that their 'third partner in crime' be the first to 'test' them. Ginny sent me a red and gold figurine of a phoenix; I really hope she's not getting another crush on me. Luna sent me a book on Thestrals written by an anonymous author. And the rest of the DA sent me an assortment of cards.
Not to sound impertinent, like Snape always accuses me of being, but why didn't you send me a gift? Are you alright? Please write to me soon.
Harry
Dear Sirius,
I got my O.W.L. results today. I got O's in Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration. E's in Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology and Potions. An A in Divination and P's in Astronomy and History of Magic.
I guess I won't be able to become an Auror. I needed an O in Potions to get into the N.E.W.T. class and Potions is a requirement in becoming an Auror.
Are you ashamed of me? Would my parents be ashamed of me?
Sirius, please, where are you? Please be okay. Please write back.
Harry
P.S. Please don't laugh at my acting like a poof, but I love you.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Two months into the summer of 1996, a slightly underfed but steadily growing boy sits in the corner of a sparse room.
A snowy white owl across the room hoots dolefully but the boy pays his pet no mind.
The boy has his thin strong arms wrapped tightly around his legs and tears are silently running down his face.
Next to him is a pile of letters that will never be answered.
Author's Notes: This will be a short fic. I hope you like it. Any response is appreciated.