Sirius,

I know you won't read this seeing as I don't believe they let owls deliver to Azkaban but I need to write this more as a coping mechanism than anything else.

Perhaps if you get out I'll give it to you however I do not feel that is likely to happen.

I still love you Padfoot, I always have and always will. You are my star in a black night and my silence in the pain. Sometimes at night I talk to your star as if I am talking to you back before anything happened. Whenever I do I hold our rings, yes I found yours and kept it and no I did not get rid of mine, in fact, I wear it everyday.

I miss you Siri, and James, and Lils. I talk to them to.

Do you remember that time at the lake when James tried to ask lily to marry him. I will never forget the look on his face when he heard her say:

'I would rather date the giant squid then go out with you Potter.'

I can also never forget you pushing her into the lake yelling

'Well there you go Evans, I hope you have a very happy life with lots of little human/squid hybrids to keep you busy.'

I still haven't worked out how she got your hair that particular shade of pink, nor how she got it to stay that way for so long.

But pads, I also can't forget your laugh, the laugh that haunts the constant flow of nightmares or the gleam in your eyes as they dragged you away. I know you didn't do it. I don't know who it was but I know it wasn't you pads but so much proves your guilt. And Peter, Peter Sirius.

Do you know how it is to lose everything in one night.

Padfoot I have a question that I desperately need answers to. When you lost your sanity was it like with Alice and Frank? Did you lose your memory too? Do you remember me?

Forever and Always,

Your Moon.

Remy,

I know it will never get to you but mentally composing these letters are what has kept me mildly sane.

It's a full moon tonight and now, just as every time, I shall become Padfoot simply to feel closer to you.

I remember the nights we shared in the forest with James and Pettigrew. Wallowing in the lush green grass with the sounds of crickets ringing in our ears, I still hear them sometimes, in my dreams.

It was the rat Remy, the heartless traitor who murderd his 'friends'.

Please believe me Moony.

Sometimes I talk to the moon as if I am talking to you. Can you hear?

I pretend I'm holding your hand, I still remember what every touch we shared was like, how it felt to feel the cool weight of a metal barn on my finger after being bound with you.

The moon has now risen and my thoughts lie with you.

Forever and always,

Your Star.