A/N- This is the last letter in this fic. I haven't had the time to work on
it that I would have liked, so I'm ending it. I have been saving this
letter for last. As for my other fics, I don't know when I'll be updating.
I will when I can, but I'm working two jobs at the moment.
Harry settled down, and opened the last letter in the stack. It, ilke the others, held meaning for him, and it was the one that meant the most. Though the ones from his parents had meant everything, this letter was the most important. This letter was from someone who loved him, who understood him, who knew what it was like to be surrounded by the spotlight and to have never done anything to deserve it. The plain brown envelope was marked in a firm hand, and Ron and Hermione didn't need to ask whom it was from. They knew. There was only one person left.
Dear Harry,
I cannot believe that you are now an adult. Those days, when you were an infant and your parents laughed so freely, are now sixteen years behind us. It pains me to think of how much they have missed. They will never see what I have seen. You are a man, and I am so proud of you. I wish that you could have come to live with me, but I also realize that life as a convict on the run is not healthy for a growing boy. Now, however, I have new hope that I might be able to apprehend Peter. We may be able to be a family, for the small amount of time that you will need one.
Harry, you have been what has kept me sane during this long, dark reign that we have all been living under. Watching you grow, albeit from afar, has given me both giddy pleasure and insurmountable sadness. Pleasure, because in you I see the happy go lucky baby, and the gangly thirteen year old grown into a man. You are your own man, but in you my two best friends live on. Every once in a while, you seem like you are Lily, staring at me through those eyes. Telling me that I had better not let you down. Sometimes, you cock your head, and I have to shake myself to remember that this is Harry I'm talking to, not James. Those little reminders allow me to keep going, knowing that there is a future. As Lily once said, you are our future- and you have grown up. That argument was the one that finally won James over into letting her charm you. It was needed, but the thought of her death terrified him.
You are a survivor. I know that these last few years, ever since your re-entrance into the wizarding world, have been hard on you. No one is fully prepared to find out that they are magical. You had more to stomach then most. Professor Dumbledore was watching you very carefully, to see how you adjusted. And while I wish that he had told you that you were the Heir of Gryffindor rather sooner then he did, I can not fault his decision not to.
I regret the years that you had to spend with those horrid Muggles. One of the greatest torments of Azkaban was remembering how cruelly Petunia treated Lily, and then imagining you at her mercy. Getting you away from her was one of the things that kept me sane. I knew you were defenceless. I knew that you had no way of knowing what really happened. I vowed when they took me away that you would know me. Of course, they all assumed I meant you would know me a s your parent's betrayer. What I meant that day was that you would know me as me, the man I was and am starting to regain. I am your godfather, and I hope you realize that there is no way that I am ever going to give you up. You are all I have left of them.
Ordinarily, your father would be giving some big speech of how with great power comes great responsibility, and that you need to make sure that you plan you steps just a little. He would tell you to be reckless occasionall, love with your whole self, and to never offer anything but your best. But I am not your father, and so I am going to assume that you know all this. I know that you are an intelligent, good looking young man, and I am proud of you. I love you Harry. Don't forget that.
Now, before Moony comes in and starts snickering to see that I did exactly what I vowed I would NOT do, and that was write you a really sentimental and soppy letter for your birthday, I'm going to sign off. You'll be seeing me again sooner then you think.
-Sirius.
(I couldn't write the code. Not after that!)
Harry set the letter down, and looked down the hill at the little village nestled into the hills. Staring at the little houses, he shook his head. Then abruptly, in sunk in. He was seventeen. He was an adult. He had a spell to bring his parents back, and ways to clear Sirius's name. Clear Sirius he would definitely do, immediately. Bring his parents back? He didn't know. They would only be two years older then he was, now. Which was worse, to leave them resting as Voldemort fell them, or to bring them back into a world that had lived sixteen tears without them? He shook his head. This was a question to be debated on a far more dreary day. Then, quite unexpectedly to everyone including himself, he started to laugh. A full throated laugh, full of fun, and then he lay down and the top of the hill, and rolled his way down the hill to meet the big black dog at the bottom. His two best friends followed behind. Twenty minutes later, no one noticed the young, redheaded girl climb quietly out of the tree with tear trails running down her face. She quietly slipped back into the rambling house, and waited for the others to arrive.
A/N- Yes, I know I left it wide open for a sequel. I tend to do that. But you will also notice that my sequels very rarely get finished. HP and the Search for Laurel is next. Have that chapter already written. Now, please be a good reader and REVIEW!! My poor little counter is feeling abandoned.
Harry settled down, and opened the last letter in the stack. It, ilke the others, held meaning for him, and it was the one that meant the most. Though the ones from his parents had meant everything, this letter was the most important. This letter was from someone who loved him, who understood him, who knew what it was like to be surrounded by the spotlight and to have never done anything to deserve it. The plain brown envelope was marked in a firm hand, and Ron and Hermione didn't need to ask whom it was from. They knew. There was only one person left.
Dear Harry,
I cannot believe that you are now an adult. Those days, when you were an infant and your parents laughed so freely, are now sixteen years behind us. It pains me to think of how much they have missed. They will never see what I have seen. You are a man, and I am so proud of you. I wish that you could have come to live with me, but I also realize that life as a convict on the run is not healthy for a growing boy. Now, however, I have new hope that I might be able to apprehend Peter. We may be able to be a family, for the small amount of time that you will need one.
Harry, you have been what has kept me sane during this long, dark reign that we have all been living under. Watching you grow, albeit from afar, has given me both giddy pleasure and insurmountable sadness. Pleasure, because in you I see the happy go lucky baby, and the gangly thirteen year old grown into a man. You are your own man, but in you my two best friends live on. Every once in a while, you seem like you are Lily, staring at me through those eyes. Telling me that I had better not let you down. Sometimes, you cock your head, and I have to shake myself to remember that this is Harry I'm talking to, not James. Those little reminders allow me to keep going, knowing that there is a future. As Lily once said, you are our future- and you have grown up. That argument was the one that finally won James over into letting her charm you. It was needed, but the thought of her death terrified him.
You are a survivor. I know that these last few years, ever since your re-entrance into the wizarding world, have been hard on you. No one is fully prepared to find out that they are magical. You had more to stomach then most. Professor Dumbledore was watching you very carefully, to see how you adjusted. And while I wish that he had told you that you were the Heir of Gryffindor rather sooner then he did, I can not fault his decision not to.
I regret the years that you had to spend with those horrid Muggles. One of the greatest torments of Azkaban was remembering how cruelly Petunia treated Lily, and then imagining you at her mercy. Getting you away from her was one of the things that kept me sane. I knew you were defenceless. I knew that you had no way of knowing what really happened. I vowed when they took me away that you would know me. Of course, they all assumed I meant you would know me a s your parent's betrayer. What I meant that day was that you would know me as me, the man I was and am starting to regain. I am your godfather, and I hope you realize that there is no way that I am ever going to give you up. You are all I have left of them.
Ordinarily, your father would be giving some big speech of how with great power comes great responsibility, and that you need to make sure that you plan you steps just a little. He would tell you to be reckless occasionall, love with your whole self, and to never offer anything but your best. But I am not your father, and so I am going to assume that you know all this. I know that you are an intelligent, good looking young man, and I am proud of you. I love you Harry. Don't forget that.
Now, before Moony comes in and starts snickering to see that I did exactly what I vowed I would NOT do, and that was write you a really sentimental and soppy letter for your birthday, I'm going to sign off. You'll be seeing me again sooner then you think.
-Sirius.
(I couldn't write the code. Not after that!)
Harry set the letter down, and looked down the hill at the little village nestled into the hills. Staring at the little houses, he shook his head. Then abruptly, in sunk in. He was seventeen. He was an adult. He had a spell to bring his parents back, and ways to clear Sirius's name. Clear Sirius he would definitely do, immediately. Bring his parents back? He didn't know. They would only be two years older then he was, now. Which was worse, to leave them resting as Voldemort fell them, or to bring them back into a world that had lived sixteen tears without them? He shook his head. This was a question to be debated on a far more dreary day. Then, quite unexpectedly to everyone including himself, he started to laugh. A full throated laugh, full of fun, and then he lay down and the top of the hill, and rolled his way down the hill to meet the big black dog at the bottom. His two best friends followed behind. Twenty minutes later, no one noticed the young, redheaded girl climb quietly out of the tree with tear trails running down her face. She quietly slipped back into the rambling house, and waited for the others to arrive.
A/N- Yes, I know I left it wide open for a sequel. I tend to do that. But you will also notice that my sequels very rarely get finished. HP and the Search for Laurel is next. Have that chapter already written. Now, please be a good reader and REVIEW!! My poor little counter is feeling abandoned.
