Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to Harry Potter or any characters or places in this story, they belong to JK Rowling. I am making no money from this story.

Author's Note: I was curious to hear what anyone thought of the sorting hat song. I was rather disappointed that nobody commented on it. I was expecting to hear that it was ok, or it sucked, or maybe even a few "good jobs" (LOL). Anyway, if someone has an opinion on my cheesy sorting hat song, please let me know. By the way, sorry about the grammatical errors in the last chapter. I just reread it, and am ashamed to find so many mistakes. I'll try to do a little better from here on, and will fix the errors at some point. Thanks for reading.

Jeremy

Chapter 15 The Letter

The first two weeks of the new term had passed by slowly in the confusion and haste of the students around him. Harry simply floated through the motions. Learning the new course schedule was easy enough. Most of his attention was focused on his new goals and how best to set about them.

At first his friends had been quite supportive, however seeing Harry pushing himself so much, in so many different directions, did make them a bit nervous. Still they noticed Harry's need to change and continued to try and help him. The thing is, he didn't really seem to need their help. In the two weeks since school started Harry had forced himself to do each assignment the same day it was given. Not only that but his in-class work was greatly improved, not that he was a bad student to begin with, just now he nearly rivaled Hermione, nearly. Not even Snape had found a reason to complain yet. A subject that shocked all of the sixth year Gryffindors. It was well known that Harry was a favorite target for the greasy haired Potions Master.

Aside from his school work, Harry had also taken to some early morning Quidditch practice. Although it was at Professor McGonagall's suggestion, that Harry should not practice alone, where his first need for help came. So each morning Harry dragged Ron out of bed and down to the pitch. They would take a few laps, and then do various drills to work on their Quidditch skills. Harry found that he had lost little in the way of ability during his ban last year, and was eagerly anticipating the upcoming season. The additional practice would certainly give him an edge, plus he pretty well knew his competition at the seeker level. It had remained unchanged in the last few years, with the exception of Hufflepuff. However, Cho would still be playing for Ravenclaw, and Malfoy for Slytherin. Neither had ever beaten him to the snitch before, and Harry felt sure that if he continued to practice like this he would be back in top form. The only opponent he hadn't faced was Summerby from Hufflepuff, but Ginny had grabbed the snitch right out from under his nose last season, so Harry was hopeful that he would prove up to the task.

He still had his Firebolt which provided a great advantage, but the odd thing was that it gave him a different perspective on his life. All because it reminded him of Sirius. The first time he mounted the broom memories of his Godfather washed over him, and when he flew he was lifted to a place where he knew he belonged. Old thoughts of guilt and anguish that had chased him all summer blew away with the wind rushing in his ears, only to be replaced by fond memories of a man who wanted Harry to be happy. A person who linked Harry to his parents, and Harry was slowly being freed by focusing on the good things. He spent many mornings returning from his practice not feeling overburdened by remorse, and almost happy.

It was one such Saturday that Harry returned to his dorm from the shower after practice and saw the letter from Sirius sitting on his nightstand. In the two months following the reading of Sirius' will Harry could not bring himself to read the message, always finding some excuse to wait, but still held it as one of his dearest possessions. Now he felt that the time had come to read the final words from his Godfather. As he sat on the bed and began to open the envelope Ron came back from his shower. He cast a tentative look at his friend before speaking in an understanding voice, "I can stick around if you like, or do you want some privacy mate? I can make sure that no one comes in for awhile if you prefer."

"Thanks Ron, I think I should do this by myself. I'll be down after I read this." Harry replied as he pulled the parchment from the packet.

Ron nodded his head and left for the common room after placing his things on his trunk.

With a small sigh Harry smiled and began to read:

Dear Harry,

I am writing this letter in case anything happens to me. Quite odd really, considering I do not leave the house. However, with Voldemort on the loose anything is possible, and I think it best to leave nothing unsaid. If you are reading this then I must have mucked things up pretty badly. I am sorry for that, but don't dwell on it too much.

There are a few things I should tell you, that I know we never really had the chance to talk about. Sometimes it is just easier to pretend that everything will be alright, and that whatever needs to be said can wait for a better time. Rarely is that true Harry. Even now, as I sit in my family's library writing this, I find it a bit silly trying to find the words I want to say. I never told you much about your parents, or how much they meant to me. Your father was the best friend I could ever hope for. I've told you about some of the great times we had, but I probably never said anything about how good a man he really was. He was always there for me when I needed him, much the way Ron and Hermione are for you. It was something more than that though, not just being able to depend on each other, but knowing that someone cared. That wasn't something I always had. Your mother was one of the only people who could keep us in line, but it was only because she cared. She kept us grounded, and showed me what family was supposed to be. When the first war broke out, they reminded me of just what we were fighting for, they gave me hope. I can see a lot of both of them in you. True that you look like James, but you have your mothers heart. You are your own man though, exactly the way they would have wanted. You have made me proud.

When I was sent to prison, it was something I felt I deserved at the time. It was my fault that they died, and I had let down two of the only people who have ever truly cared for me. I realize now that though my decision allowed it to happen, Peter had turned long before that, and would have eventually found a way to get to you, and that is the cold truth. If you haven't been told by now, then I think it's time you knew. I apologize for keeping this from you Harry, and I'm sure that you'll be angry once you hear it. My only excuse is that I was convinced that we might be able to protect you for a short time if you did not know. Voldemort did not go there to kill your parents, he came for you. There is a reason Voldemort continues to chase you, and why he tried to kill you that night. There was a prophecy made involving you, but I won't dare to write the contents here. If I am dead then you must speak with Dumbledore, he will be able to tell you about it, and prepare you for what lies ahead. The task set for you will not be easy, but in the end I know you will be standing tall.

In the event that I died I felt that it would be necessary to provide you with another guardian. As such, I have chosen someone I know will take care of you in the manner that your parents intended, though you hardly need it. I thought of someone we both trust, Remus. I think that you will accept this as one of my final wishes. I have already informed him of my decision, but it is not official until my will is read. Remus is a true friend Harry. He will have your best interests at heart so please do listen to him.

I have also left some money for you. Find something good to do with it. The only thing left for me to bestow is my parent's house. I have a lot of bad memories here and had hoped never to return. You however, may be able to make new and better memories, and I hope that you do. As for Kreacher he is bound to serve you until he dies. I know that he is wretched, but he must remain there because he knows too much. Do not be troubled by having a servant, he is not much use anyhow.

Well that's it. I am getting a bit tired of all this sappy stuff anyway. I think I may need to spike Moony's tea just for some excitement. Hopefully you'll never have to read this. If you do, then I want you to know this, and never forget it; I love you Harry. Goodbye Godson.

Truly,

Padfoot

Some time later, for Harry was not sure how long he had sat there, Ron poked his head in the door to their dormitory with Hermione right behind him. Harry had passed the time clutching the memory of his Godfather and weeping silently. Sad thoughts slipped away though, as his two best friends made their way in to comfort him.

"How are you doing Harry?" Ron spoke tentatively. "We thought we should check and see if you were ok, but we can leave if you still want to be alone."

Harry removed his glasses to rub his eyes for a second before standing up. "Thanks Ron, it's alright now." He folded up the letter and returned it to his bedside table. "I know I haven't ever said this, but it's something I've always known. You both mean everything to me. I don't know where I'd be without you. Thanks."

The brief heartfelt expression was too much for Hermione, who instantly enveloped them both in a hug. "Oh Harry, we know. Are you sure you're alright? If you want to talk or anything we're here."

"No Hermione, I am feeling pretty good now. Although, now that I think about it, I am pretty hungry. Is it time for lunch yet?" Harry said as his stomach gave a slight rumble.

"Of course it is you great prat. Come on, now that you mention it I'm feeling a bit hungry myself," replied Ron. They made their way down to the Great Hall to eat while discussing what they would need to do to improve the Quidditch team this year. Surprisingly Hermione had a few suggestions that Ron thought would work out well. The tables were full of raucous students chatting loudly over the meal, but nothing seemed to be able to shake the feeling of freedom and contentment that Harry finally felt.