poem excerpts copyright: Margaret Atwood, "Postcards" - All rights reserved.

Time comes in waves here, a sickness, one
day after the other rolling on;
I move up, it's called
awake, then down into the uneasy

Harry opened the trunk carefully, curiously. He was anixous to peer into it; it had been Sirius's. He couldn't believe he was staying at Sirius's house for a second summer; especially since Sirius wasn't there anymore. But Remus had given him permission to look through this trunk. He grabbed an envelope, unmarked but extremely yellowed.

A universe that includes you
can't be all bad, but
does it? At this distance
you're a mirage, a glossy image
fixed in the posture
of the last time I saw you.

There was first and foremost a picture of James and Lily. They were sitting in chaise lounges on some kind of wooden deck with the ocean in the background, looking extremely happy, holding hands. When they saw him, they waved eagerly. Harry had a faint smile on his face. His mum was lovely - and he looked exactly like his dad, who he thought was handsome. The picture was just a little bit faded with age - it had been protected inside the envelope from much wear.

He placed the picture inside the envelope delicately & picked up another piece of parchment -- a postcard. On the front there was a picture of a beautiful beach and a tall, dark-headed man, James, and a short, red-headed woman, Lily. Harry could almost hear the crashing waves.

Turn you over, there's the place
for the address. Wish you were
here. Love comes
in waves like the ocean, a sickness which goes on
& on, a hollow cave
in the head, filling & pounding, a kicked ear.

It was a beautiful place like he had never seen before. He turned the postcard over -- it was from a hotel somewhere in Majorca, Spain. There was a letter:

Sirius & Remus & Peter:
Hey mates! We're having a great time in Majorca. Wish you were here (not). I've learned that sex on the beach isn't just a drink. Wink. IF you get my drift. I know you two miss me (and Lily) but don't beat yourselves up over it. Well - I have to go - fun in the sun calls (and so does a refreshing margarita).

Your mate,
Prongs

PS: Lily gives her best, and says that she misses beating you all to smithereens but don't worry, she'll be back soon in full force.

Harry smiled.