Son,

I know you hate me. I've figured out by now you don't want to answer me. Maybe you don't even bother to read these letters. After the first twenty-three were ignored (yes, I count them. It's how I fill my days), I caught the drift. It's not like trying to figure out Muggles—which is complicated and pointless—but sorry, I promised last letter not to mention them—it's easy. You don't want to talk to me. But I just hoped you'd read this and answer it anyway. I can't help it but to miss my family. I shouldn't've left; don't you think I've realized that? I made a stupid mistake. I threw my life away. Can't you try to forgive me? I have nothing in this world. Nothing but a tattoo and a screwed-up mind, that is.

I miss you. Don't know how else to put it. I want to meet my grandkids. I want to see my daughter again, you, my wife. Yeah, I know she's living with you now. Though I'm not so sure about your sister. She could be anywhere. My owl isn't so great at finding people, so I'm not sending him. I can't risk sending him on a wild goose chase. He brings me everything I need to survive. Probably shouldn't even send him as far away as you are. After all, he brings me food…my paycheck…my instructions.

I got real lucky, son. Got out of Azkaban after only six years. That Skeeter woman raised hell, but she couldn't send me back after I served my sentence and did my time. Ha. Serves her right, trying to butt in. Although maybe she was right. But anyway. I got me a job and everything, even if it is only an anonymous advice column type of thing. Yep, I got really lucky, but I was real stupid before. Never leave your family, kid. Not for anything, 'cause it'll kill you slow and steady. It'll eat you away. But who am I to be preaching to you? You must be having a good laugh right about now.

That was stupid. I'm stupid. I gave up my family forever and I thought you would laugh? I'm an idiot, think you know that better than anyone. You're wrong. I know it better than you do, kid. And if you're reading this at all, you'll probably burn it soon anyway. Because for the thousandth time, I'm going to try to explain to you exactly why I left, what I was thinking. What made me think it was okay. What makes me an idiot and stupid and all that stuff.

To keep it simple, I wanted adventure. I wanted glory, and I wanted fame. A family wasn't enough for me. Now, of course, I know it's the other way around—I wasn't good enough for a family. You were smart, probably still are, yet you looked up to me like I was Merlin. Your sister doted on me, and your mother loved me with all her heart. And don't get me wrong, I loved you all, adored you, I still do, but I left. I was restless. I wanted a change of scenery. I'm not trying to make excuses. I know I wanted all the wrong things. I did a lot of bad things to try and get what I wanted. I am ashamed of myself, of my deeds, of my memories. I am ashamed of my thoughts and of my very existence. My memories are eating me from the inside out, destroying me. I don't need dementors for that. I'm getting what I deserve anyway, though. I'm dying, kiddo. Literally. I'm just not going to last much longer. And if it makes sense to a good person like you, I'm trying to repent. I'm trying to get back what I lost. I'm trying to get my family to at least see me one time before I die. Tell your kids what you want about me. Tell them I'm a heartless bastard who left you. You'd be right. But please don't let me die not knowing them. I need to know them. I need to.

And I need to see you again, and the rest of my family. Your family. Your sister's family. I don't want to die a lonely man. I'm not going to force myself into your lives, of course. I opened the door all those years ago when I left, and it's right that you shut it again. It's not right that you had to shut it, just that it's shut. But sometimes, we want the wrong things to be right, or even just to happen. More than anything else in this world, I want to be part of my family. But I can understand if it's not possible, if you don't want it. If you ignore this like you've ignored my other letters. If you burn them in the dead of the night without telling your mother or sister or wife or kids or nieces or nephews or aunts and uncles or anybody that I wrote. I understand. But I have things I want to tell you in person, things I need to tell someone. And not just someone. Someone I care about and love. Even if they hate me. Someone of my blood. But maybe I shouldn't mess your life up anymore than I already have. Life for everyone is tough. I deserve it tougher.


A/N: Thanks to JJ Rust for pointing out my typo (: Also, thanks for all those amazing reviews! That goes for everyone else who's left me reviews as well, you guys are my favorite:D