(A/N: There's another one of these at the end... er, welcome to the final installment of "So Unexpected." I worked forever to finish it... and then went on vacation so I couldn't work on it... I actually wrote a fanfic while on vacation too, so it will be up eventually... and got ideas for three more... gosh, I sound almost as obsessed as I am. Anyway... please, please enjoy, and please review!!! Constructive criticism more than welcome!)


"Hullo, Harry."
"Hullo."
"Surprised to see me?"
"No, not really."
"You're not?"
"No... No, I was expecting you might be here."
"Really? Why?"
"I just thought you might be."
"Oh... no particular reason?"
"I—I don't think so. None that I can remember. Just sort of a feeling."
"Ah, all right then...how're things going? Being treated alright?"
"As alright as can be expected, I suppose."
"Good. Heard about the Cup this year?"
"Yeah, you could say so... England versus Australia."
"Right... should be interesting. Of course, we're going to kill the competition, if it even deserves to be called that... the Australian team's really a bit of a joke. They've only made it this far on fortunate flukes. Bloody Aussies... anyway, planning to go?"
"I, er... I dunno. I've been asked that a lot lately. Can't see any reason to go, though."
"Why on earth wouldn't you go?"
"I dunno... why on earth would I?"
"Harry, there's not much to be happy about in this world, not much to enjoy, and more so for some than others. If Quidditch is the only thing that makes you smile... I'd like you to go."
"I—maybe."
"And anyway... Remus might be there. If you see him, ask him about the 'Forgiveable-if-you're-anyone-other-than-Snivellus' curse. Or the 'FIYAOTS' curse... We'll see how good old Moony's memory is..."
He threw his head back and let out a booming, bark-like laugh, and Harry smiled to see the happiness on his godfather's face... but as that word clicked in the back of his mind—godfather—something in him started protesting. "No, no please... not again... get away from me, you're not real, get away... make it stop, get me out here, please..."
"Ow!"
Harry woke up abruptly to find that Hedwig had come back from hunting and was sitting beside him on his bed. She blinked at him placidly, her eyes piercing his as though she knew what was troubling him and was saying "You can tell me, if you like." Harry shook his head, stroking her absently. "It's no use telling you, you know. You can't answer me." He breathed a frustrated sigh. "But I push away everyone else because they do answer me..." He stared into space and he must have stopped stroking her, because she nipped him sharply after a moment. "Ow! Honestly, you don't have to bite so hard... got something for me?"
In answer, she held out her leg, to which a thick envelope was attached. Harry stared at it for a moment before pulling it off. Hedwig looked up at him dolefully and hooted softly. He dropped the letter to stroke her again. "No, I'm sorry Hedwig... I don't have anything for you to eat... there's some water in your cage. I can get you something to eat in a bit." He glanced down at where the letter had fallen with the backside facing him. A brief note was scrawled in Dumbledore's handwriting.

Harry—
According to the wishes expressed in the enclosed letter, I never opened the envelope, nor read its contents.
-Albus Dumbledore

Harry turned the envelope over cautiously, not daring to hope that... his heart skipped a beat as he recognized the handwriting on the front. Fighting the mixed impulses to cry and laugh, he began to open it with trembling fingers—
"Boy, are you quite finished with my telephone?"
Harry glanced up distractedly and tossed the phone toward the door. "Yes, Uncle Vernon."
His uncle burst into the room, spotted the phone on the floor, grabbed it, and pointed a finger at Harry. "Now, listen... I don't know how all of your bloody school friends suddenly got the number for this house... but I'll not have you tying up my phone line all day long, do you hear me?"
Harry shrugged detachedly, never taking his eyes off of the envelope. "Sure, I hear you."
Vernon slammed the door behind him and thundered down the stairs.
Harry stared down for another moment at the letter, then tore it open before he could talk himself out of it. Before unfolding it, he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to calm his breathing down. It can't be real... it can't be, it's not possible... there's no way this could be what I think it is...I shouldn't even bother to read it...But I can't not read it, I have to look... no, don't look, don't get your hopes up... But then he unfolded the letter, opened his eyes and began to read.

Hullo, Harry.
I feel a tad stupid writing this, and I hope you never have to read it. But lately I've been getting a feeling... sort of a constant prickling on the back of my neck, like I'm being watched constantly, and something's about to go terribly wrong... But it's probably nothing besides this cursed old house. As I said, I hope you never have to read this...
But just in case this strange feeling of mine really means something, I thought I'd just sort of... sit down and write you a letter. So that's what I'm doing.
Erm... I'm really not sure what to write about. This is absurd, really... if your father was here reading over my shoulder, as he did almost every time I wrote a letter, he'd be poking me in the back and saying something like "Honestly Padfoot, could you be a little more morbid? I think there's still a .01% chance of me smiling in the future." But of course, your father isn't here... Harry, I know we never talked about James, except that I occasionally said how extraordinarily like him you were, and you are, but I want you to know that despite how incredibly like him you are, you are not James Potter. You are Harry Potter. You are who you want to be—remember that. Don't ever let anyone tell you who to be or how to act. According to Molly, I might need to remind myself of that, as well... d'you remember her telling me that you weren't James earlier this year? At first I was furious with her for having at me so... but then I realized that she was right, I had come to think of you as though I'd gotten James back. And it didn't take me long after that to realize that no, I hadn't got my best friend back, but I'd gotten something just as good, and that was you, Harry. Only you. I think you're absolutely perfect just being yourself, and I couldn't ask for a better godson. Don't you ever be anyone else.
Remus just came in to check on what I was doing...peered over my shoulder and said, "Sirius, you realize that that last paragraph makes no sense whatever and it's completely circular?" I highly considered jinxing him. But re- reading it, I suppose he's right... sorry if I'm confusing you, Harry. It all made sense while I was thinking it out and writing it. (And in case you were wondering, he didn't have a chance to reprimand me for being dark... had to hide that bit from him, he'd think I was going insane. Of course, he probably does already, but you know...))
I'm not really sure what to say now... you can't imagine how stupid I feel, writing you this letter as though I'm about to die. I certainly hope not... If you still want to, I'd still love for you to eventually come and live with me. That might be a bit of a problem if I were to snuff it, eh? I wouldn't want to live in this dusty old hellhole... maybe somewhere out in the country, don't you think so? Wide open, where you can always see the sky... excuse me for sounding ridiculous, but I actually have this clear picture of it in my mind. I missed seeing the sky those years in Azkaban. The sky, and the trees, and water... how does a creek sound to you? Of course, I'm not sure when Dumbledore would let you come... he's been a right old stiff lately, hasn't he? Oh, appropriately so, of course... you are in a bit of danger, you know, Voldemort running about and all. We'd hate to lose you, Harry, and of course that's why Dumbledore's like he is. But I do miss you terribly sometimes.
Sorry for rambling on like that, wasn't the point of this letter at all... Although I'm not sure what the point was. I'm getting writer's cramp, and brain cramp, and stomach cramp... I'm dead hungry... and I can't think of anything else to say, so I suppose I'll close this letter soon.
You know Harry, James left me to be your guardian if anything should happen to him... so if anything should happen to me, which it won't of course—but if it did, you should look to Remus... he was your father's and my best friend, you know. Oh, by the way, if you have the chance, be sure to ask one of us about the time we got Snape with the "FIYAOTS" curse in our sixth year.
Anyway... No one could ever care about you as much as your parents did, but I think I have the right to say that I must come close... awfully close... and I know that Remus cares about you as well, so just in case this obnoxious prickling thing means something—I so hope it doesn't—Remus will make sure you're all right.
I feel like I've just placed myself in death's door... but hopefully it's just my over-active imagination and this will never reach your hands. Just in case, I'm going to send it to Dumbledore and give him instructions not to read it.
I don't know if I've ever told you, and if I haven't, then I'm a terrible person and a worse godfather... so in case I don't get another chance to tell you, I... I love you, Harry. More than I can say.
-Sirius

Harry finished reading with overbright eyes and his vision so blurry he could only just make out the last line. He let the tears run down his face as he bolted across the room and tore through his trunk until he found the photo album Hagrid had given him, which Harry had vowed never to look at again... he slowly opened it and looked down at a picture of his beaming parents. They waved up at him joyously, and he lifted a hand to wave back before turning past that page towards the middle of the book, where he found a picture of Sirius, who waved, winked, and then began to laugh happily, his then-handsome face tilted back. No sound came from the album, of course, but Harry could hear the sound of his godfather's bark-like laugh anyway. He shut the album and re-read Sirius' letter, then sat for a moment to collect his thoughts.
After a minute he got up again and dug around in his trunk for some parchment and a quill, and then shoved some things off of his desk and sat down at it. Spreading the parchment out in front of him, he began to write.

Ron,
Sorry I was... the way I was. There was no reason for me to yell at my best friends... I think I'd like to see the Cup with you, if the invitation is still open. Thanks for inviting me.
-Harry

He rolled it up and sealed it, then grabbed another piece of parchment.

Hermione,
I know I was rude, sorry about that, I know you were only trying to help... I've decided I'm going to the Quidditch Cup with the Weasleys after all, in case you're interested.
-Harry

He shoved the letters aside and read Sirius' once more. "Look to Remus..." He read the last line several times over, then attempted to dry his eyes again before carefully setting the letter on top of the photo album and going back over to the desk to start another letter. He sucked on the end of the quill for a moment before changing his mind. A letter wouldn't do... He attached the letters he'd already written to Hedwig's leg and whispered to her "Just make sure these get to Ron and Hermione, okay?" She hooted softly before soaring out into the gathering dusk, and he watched her briefly before quietly going down the stairs. Good... Uncle Vernon was talking to Aunt Petunia and Dudley was watching television. He crept into the kitchen, where the phone was... or more exactly, where the phone should've been. He frowned and glanced around.
"No..." The phone was lying on the table, right next to Uncle Vernon. Harry walked over as casually as he could.
"And just what d'you think you're doing, boy?" Harry shrugged in what he hoped was a nonchalant manner. "I need to use the phone again."
He almost smiled as his uncle's face turned purple yet again.
"Right, thanks then, I'll just send it down when I'm done," he said as he hurriedly grabbed the phone and dashed up the stairs two at a time, his uncle shouting after him.
Once in his room with the door shut and locked again, Harry crossed over to his bed and quickly found what he was looking for: a small piece of parchment with a number scribbled on it. He dialed the number into the phone. "Come on, come on, please be here..."
"Hello?"
"Professor Lupin?"
"Harry?"
"Yeah, this is Harry..." he paused briefly to skim Sirius' letter again, then said hesitantly, "Look, about that offer earlier... I mean, your invitation... er, if it's still all right with you, I might like... I mean, I decided... if the invitation's still open, I mean..."
"You want to come stay for the summer?"

Thanks... "Yeah, I think I do. If it's still okay with you."
"Of course it is, Harry." Lupin paused and Harry glanced once more at the last line of Sirius' letter. "Was that all?"
Harry shook his head slightly. "No, actually... I wanted to ask you something..." What was it? Something about a hex or a curse... but it was only a stupid dream... "Er, you wouldn't know anything about a... 'FIYAOTS' curse, would you?"
There was a small pause. "Er... no, sorry—doesn't sound familiar."
Damn. Of course not... "Okay. Never mind, it was just—"
"Wait... no, surely you can't be talking about that ridiculous thing Padfoot and Prongs somehow managed to invent in our sixth year..." Harry hadn't expected to hear Lupin use Sirius and his dad's nicknames.
Even more unexpected was what happened next...
Remus laughed—not a forced, mirthless laugh like so many Harry had heard lately, but a genuine laugh that resounded with memories of times filled with joy, so many years ago... That so unexpected laugh seemed to bring some light to the room that had seemed so dark, and made Harry feel, just for a moment, that maybe the whole world wasn't crashing down around him—maybe there was something worth living for, worth fighting for. As Remus began talking about himself, Sirius and his dad at school, Harry glanced down at the letter clutched in his hand and smiled just a little more.

I love you too, Sirius.

(A/N: Okay... after two weeks of editing the end, and even asking Renzo-the- Amazing to help me out (which he didn't... "It's great the way it is." No, IT'S NOT!) Anyway... so this is the best I could do. The only part of this chapter I personally like is the letter... I love the letter... Anyway, I've learned that the author is -usually- the only one who doesn't like their work, so I certainly hope that's the case here... and dead sorry to disappoint you if you don't like it, either. Don't give up on me... Beyond Repair is better than this, I promise! Wait... where are you going? No, don't leave! Wait!...)

(Second A/N: YES! It is fixed! Completely! dances happily Found out hos to fix the italic and everything... huzzah.)