Editor's Note: This is the first set of letters given to the Daily Prophet
for publication. These letters ran on 4, 11, 18, and 25 September,
respectively. Some letters have been edited for content by the Prophet. All
edits should be clearly recognizable. Please be reminded that the opinions
expressed in these letters are the personal opinions of Sirius Black and
should not be accepted as fact. Thank you.
Dear Remus,
It feels strange to be writing you this knowing that you might never see it, but I have a feeling you might see it sooner than you want to. I'm going to say this right here on the first page: If anything happens to me, this belongs to you, Moony. And if somebody else found this first, they had better stop right now, because this is for Remus, not you. There, now that that's taken care of, we can move on to the really important things. These letters are for one thing only: To tell you everything about what happened between fifth year and, well, that Halloween. I know we left you out of things for a while and I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for that. But now I'm going to tell you everything.
Sirius Black
About My Mother
First, I want you to know that the old (wretch) up at Grimmauld Place isn't my mother. James' mother, Abigail, is. And I don't mean 'like a mother'. She was my real mother. From what I know she married my father by arrangement (of course) and was (rightfully) miserable about it. After I was born I was whipped off to the nurses and she came down with that nasty depression women get when their kids get taken away. So she started doing some pretty bad (things), the way I did after we graduated. She left my dad and went to St. Mungo's for help. And who did she meet there but the dashing Mr. Potter. Divorce, remarriage, Jamie-poo. Lucky for me I failed out of that hellhole Durmstrang and landed in your year at Hogwarts.
About Running Away
In case you didn't tell, I'm dealing with the easy things first. Do you remember when I ran away? James' mother – who, if you recall, is really my mum too – was more than happy to take me in. Of course, dear old mum and dad wanted me back. They took James' parents to court. It's a nasty place. Abigail played all the good cards; loving home, stable family, good income, James...you know. But dad's money won them over, of course. He even tried to pay her to not tell me that she was my mother. But she held trump and she played it. As soon as she told the court she was my 'birth mother' they handed me over. Reg was delighted, to say the least. After all, it's not every day you get your brother's inheritance handed to you on a silver platter. Hell, Kreacher probably got out a silver platter just for the occasion. But that, in short, is how I ended up living with James.
About James
I never liked him. Well, all right, I did. He was one of the few people in the whole damn school with a sense of humor. And he had a great head for jokes and the like. And he was too smart and too popular for his own good. But at home over the summer, I think I got to know him too well. First of all, he was spoiled rotten. His mum called him Jamie. He whinged quite a lot, he called names, and he acted like a big baby. He gossiped too, but I didn't want to be a hypo-whatsit. What is that word? Oh well. The thing about James was that he was all of those things, but then he would suddenly transfigure into The Quidditch God any time a girl was about. Pure only child. But once I got there he started acting like the poor, deprived younger brother. Suddenly I had the looks, the bike, everything. Except her.
Dear Remus,
It feels strange to be writing you this knowing that you might never see it, but I have a feeling you might see it sooner than you want to. I'm going to say this right here on the first page: If anything happens to me, this belongs to you, Moony. And if somebody else found this first, they had better stop right now, because this is for Remus, not you. There, now that that's taken care of, we can move on to the really important things. These letters are for one thing only: To tell you everything about what happened between fifth year and, well, that Halloween. I know we left you out of things for a while and I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for that. But now I'm going to tell you everything.
Sirius Black
About My Mother
First, I want you to know that the old (wretch) up at Grimmauld Place isn't my mother. James' mother, Abigail, is. And I don't mean 'like a mother'. She was my real mother. From what I know she married my father by arrangement (of course) and was (rightfully) miserable about it. After I was born I was whipped off to the nurses and she came down with that nasty depression women get when their kids get taken away. So she started doing some pretty bad (things), the way I did after we graduated. She left my dad and went to St. Mungo's for help. And who did she meet there but the dashing Mr. Potter. Divorce, remarriage, Jamie-poo. Lucky for me I failed out of that hellhole Durmstrang and landed in your year at Hogwarts.
About Running Away
In case you didn't tell, I'm dealing with the easy things first. Do you remember when I ran away? James' mother – who, if you recall, is really my mum too – was more than happy to take me in. Of course, dear old mum and dad wanted me back. They took James' parents to court. It's a nasty place. Abigail played all the good cards; loving home, stable family, good income, James...you know. But dad's money won them over, of course. He even tried to pay her to not tell me that she was my mother. But she held trump and she played it. As soon as she told the court she was my 'birth mother' they handed me over. Reg was delighted, to say the least. After all, it's not every day you get your brother's inheritance handed to you on a silver platter. Hell, Kreacher probably got out a silver platter just for the occasion. But that, in short, is how I ended up living with James.
About James
I never liked him. Well, all right, I did. He was one of the few people in the whole damn school with a sense of humor. And he had a great head for jokes and the like. And he was too smart and too popular for his own good. But at home over the summer, I think I got to know him too well. First of all, he was spoiled rotten. His mum called him Jamie. He whinged quite a lot, he called names, and he acted like a big baby. He gossiped too, but I didn't want to be a hypo-whatsit. What is that word? Oh well. The thing about James was that he was all of those things, but then he would suddenly transfigure into The Quidditch God any time a girl was about. Pure only child. But once I got there he started acting like the poor, deprived younger brother. Suddenly I had the looks, the bike, everything. Except her.