AN: Please please review! I'm new at this and would appreciate your feedback!

Disclaimer: All these characters belong to JK Rowling.

Letters to No One

Harry lay in bed that night, thinking over Aunt Petunia's strange talk. Not about the talk exactly, but about something she'd said. "I became angry when I grew up enough to realize that life is constantly changing and we can't hold on to the old memories and refuse to accept the new, because we miss out on so much ... I couldn't accept that things could be different yet still be just as good as they were before."

Life was constantly changing. A month ago, he'd had Sirius on his side. A month ago, he hadn't known about the prophecy. He'd been happy, Harry realized now. He hadn't felt happy at the time, worrying about stupid things like Umbridge and the Ministry, but he had been.

He'd had Sirius on his side ...

Sirius ... the vail ...

Harry fell into a nightmarish sleep.

He woke with a start early the next morning. The words Aunt Petunia had spoken rang through his head again ... "I couldn't accept that things could be different yet still be just as good as they were before." He could be a different kind of happy.

Harry turned his head toward the stacks of letters his friends had sent him. Sirius would have sent him loads of letters by now. Harry rolled out of bed and went over to his desk. He took out a quill and spare piece of parchment and began to write.

Dear Sirius,

I'm fine. The Dursleys are staying away from me, because Moody said the Order'd come after them if they touched me.

My aunt's getting all weird, though. You know, sentimental? I guess the thought of Voldemort returning hit her pretty hard. She was the only one who ever met my mum, I think.

My summer's been pretty boring, stuck in the house all day. I don't mind. I'd rather face Voldemort later, after I've had a chance to learn how to defend myself against him. Because I want to live. I haven't really kissed anyone yet, except Cho, and she didn't count because ... I dunno, she was practice or something. She doesn't matter to me. And I've never even done it. I definitely don't want to die without having done it. What would Ron think?

I want to know everything that's been going on. I heard some things on the Muggle radio the other day ... three kids kidnapped out of a London flat and things like that. Is Voldemort behind any of it? Let me know what's happening and when I can get out of here.
Harry

The tears he had tried all summer to hold back flowed freely down Harry's face as he rolled up the parchement. He stuck the scroll in the loose floorboard under his bed, then went downstairs to breakfast.

After breakfast, instead of returning to his bedroom as he usually did, Harry strolled casually into the living room. His uncle had already left for work, Dudley was upstairs sleeping, and Aunt Petunia had gone out to do the shopping.

I have to do something interesting today, Harry thought. Something I can write to Sirius about ... something that'll make him laugh ...

Harry looked around, trying to think of something that would make Sirius laugh. He spotted a cabinet in a corner of the living room and made his way over to it. No one ever looked in it anymore, it held old photos ...

He searched through the drawers until he found what he was looking for – an old picture of Dudley playing in a sprinkler from when they were five or six years old. His fat stomach drooped over his bathing suit. Harry picked up a pen from the coffee table and carefully drew a curly pig's tail, pig ears, and a pig snout on the photo.

Grinning wickedly, he returned it to it's place and turned to go back upstairs when something caught his eye. There were more.

Harry's grin grew until he thought his face would break. He spent the next five minutes drawing "pig" accessories on his cousin's fat face. A noise outside brought Harry back to reality. Peering around the gauzy curtains, he saw the Dursley's car in the driveway. His aunt was home.

Quickly, Harry returned all the photos to their proper drawers and ran up the steps, taking them two at a time. Harry settled back onto his bed, his grin fading. Yes, Sirius would have laughed at that. He'd have to write him about it tomorrow ...