Editor's Note: Welcome to the Letters from Remus special series. This is
the fifth set of letters given to the Daily Prophet for publication. These
letters ran on 20 November, 27 November, and 4 December. 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.
About My Son
God, I love seeing that on paper. My son. If not for the fact that I saw the results of the testing charm with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe it. She said once that he had my eyes. Do you remember him, Moony? Bright red hair, just like her, and one of the pureblood noses, the big one that gets all the jokes about men with big noses, and those brown eyes that she says are mine. I almost can't believe it. Here's what I do believe: He's still alive. I don't care if nobody else does. I don't care if it breaks every Fidelius Charm in existence. I've seen him, in dreams. It was one of the things I would dream about in Azkaban. Him and Harry. And Wormtail. Thirteen years is a long time to punish yourself, Moony. A very long time.
About Azkaban
There are not enough adjectives in the English language to describe that place. They suck everything out of you, so that you're not even human any more. The easiest way to fight it is to not be human. I spent more time as Padfoot than was really healthy for me. I almost lost my human side a few times. But when I couldn't be Padfoot any more, I needed something to hold on to. I was lucky: I had more than one. Most people in there only had one happy thought, and then they find it and take it away. Here's what mine were: I am innocent. This was Peter's fault, NOT MINE. I am not that kind of heartless (person). Harry is alive, and Voldemort is defeated. This is a good thing. I have a son. He is beautiful, and he is alive. And he has my eyes.
Those three things occupied my thoughts for twelve years. It's very hard to let them go. And I think you saw my memory of Godric's Hollow already or you wouldn't believe me, but that third one is true. My son is alive. And even if all of my instincts are wrong and he isn't, I still have Harry.
About Harry
I love him like a son. He's the spitting image of what James would have been if he wasn't so spoiled. I love him for it. He's going to need help, Remus. If I'm not there, you need to be. He's got nowhere else to turn, not once Dumbledore finally tells him about the prophecy. And keep an eye on Hermione too. If she's anything like Lily, she's in for a world of trouble. I'm getting the feeling that I'm not meant to be here much longer, so I hope you take care of all of them. And take care of yourself, Moony. I know what happens when no one is there to nag you about eating. Oh, and tell Molly Weasley thanks for the socks.
About My Son
God, I love seeing that on paper. My son. If not for the fact that I saw the results of the testing charm with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe it. She said once that he had my eyes. Do you remember him, Moony? Bright red hair, just like her, and one of the pureblood noses, the big one that gets all the jokes about men with big noses, and those brown eyes that she says are mine. I almost can't believe it. Here's what I do believe: He's still alive. I don't care if nobody else does. I don't care if it breaks every Fidelius Charm in existence. I've seen him, in dreams. It was one of the things I would dream about in Azkaban. Him and Harry. And Wormtail. Thirteen years is a long time to punish yourself, Moony. A very long time.
About Azkaban
There are not enough adjectives in the English language to describe that place. They suck everything out of you, so that you're not even human any more. The easiest way to fight it is to not be human. I spent more time as Padfoot than was really healthy for me. I almost lost my human side a few times. But when I couldn't be Padfoot any more, I needed something to hold on to. I was lucky: I had more than one. Most people in there only had one happy thought, and then they find it and take it away. Here's what mine were: I am innocent. This was Peter's fault, NOT MINE. I am not that kind of heartless (person). Harry is alive, and Voldemort is defeated. This is a good thing. I have a son. He is beautiful, and he is alive. And he has my eyes.
Those three things occupied my thoughts for twelve years. It's very hard to let them go. And I think you saw my memory of Godric's Hollow already or you wouldn't believe me, but that third one is true. My son is alive. And even if all of my instincts are wrong and he isn't, I still have Harry.
About Harry
I love him like a son. He's the spitting image of what James would have been if he wasn't so spoiled. I love him for it. He's going to need help, Remus. If I'm not there, you need to be. He's got nowhere else to turn, not once Dumbledore finally tells him about the prophecy. And keep an eye on Hermione too. If she's anything like Lily, she's in for a world of trouble. I'm getting the feeling that I'm not meant to be here much longer, so I hope you take care of all of them. And take care of yourself, Moony. I know what happens when no one is there to nag you about eating. Oh, and tell Molly Weasley thanks for the socks.