Please note that the world of Harry Potter belongs to Rowling, therefore I take no credit in it or the characters I use for this fanfic.

21 April 1998

Dear Padfoot,

I'm writing this because Nymph told me it might help. Help to ease my pain.

Padfoot, I miss you so much I think my heart might actually break any minute now. I know it's been almost two years since you.. Since you died, but I just can not get over you.

I have a son now, Teddy, I would've liked to name him Sirius, but Nymph wouldn't let me. I don't think I really love her, not like I loved you, like I will always love you. I love you so much I could die right now, just to be with you again, but I know you'd never forgive me if I left your godson to struggle alone. And besides, I've got a family now, a family who needs me.

God I really miss the feeling of running my fingers through your slightly tangled hair. I constantly tried to get you to brush your hair, but you were always too lazy, weren't you, Siri?

And I miss your eyes, how they always lit up when you got an idea, and the way you always looked at me. Like I was the most precious thing you had, like I was fragile like glass.

Moony misses you too. In fact, he misses his whole pack, even though I think he got over Wormtail pretty quickly. He misses you the most, and he always will. He howls for you every full moon, and is always completely crushed when there is no answer. You should see the damages he does to our body..

I'm actually considering sending this to The Grimmauld Place and have Paddy leave it on your bed. Paddy's my owl, he's got your grey eyes, and that same, piercing stare that makes your knees go wobbly when he's mad, and he's very smart too. You probably know where he got his name from, how could you not?

I sometimes visit Grimmauld Place, because someone's got to keep that place tidy. That house is full of so many memories for me, bad memories from when you were young and good memories from the times we actually spent in that house together. I must say, there are less good memories than bad memories, but that's simply because death snatched you away from me too early. We should have grown old together in that house.

That bloody portrait of your mother is a constant reminder about how much better our lives would have been if we would have been together, and sometimes I lie down on your bed just to think about you. Sometimes I can almost imagine you there with me, and then I open my eyes and I'm alone again.

It's equally heartbreaking every time.

I don't think I can write any more now, if I don't want to destroy this expensive parchment by crying on it...

Sirius, I'm seriously missing you.

Love, Rem.