Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, la dee da la dee da...

A/N: It's been forever since I've published any fanfiction of any kind, and this just came to me out of no where. I was on an HP forum, then this idea just floated to me, and I dropped everything else to write it. I probably should have done it ages ago before HBP came out, but whatever. Also, I'm not sure if this would be considered AU or not at this point--I suppose it is, because I'm sure it would have been said somewhere that Harry received a letter from Sirius if he indeed had, but I'd like to think that Harry would have gotten this during his stay at the Dursleys and that it provided him comfort throughout HBP. Enjoy!

Remembering the Stars

Harry awoke from his doze with a start. Sitting straight up on his bed, one glance at his brightly lit room told him that no one was there, not even Hedwig, but that didn't erase the oddest feeling that there had just been someone beside him.

Staring suspiciously at his open window, Harry ran his fingers through his hair, pulling them off his sweaty forehead. The trees outside were completely still, not a rustle of wind disturbed them. Heat lightening flashed in the sky, miles away to the east.

That was what it was, it was much too hot. Too hot to be allowed. The heat was making him sleepy and was giving him weird dreams. He had probably been dreaming that it was a cool, breezy day, and the presence he had thought he had felt in his room was really that of wind in his dream. That was it.

He knew in his heart, however, that he hadn't been dreaming about wind.

He wasn't going to think about that, though. Clinging stubbornly to his heat theory, he figured he should probably go downstairs and get a glass of water, just to make sure he didn't dehydrate or anything. He got up to do so, then stopped dead. There was a piece of parchment on his bedside table.

That was notthere when I fell asleep, Harry thought firmly. He was positive about that--he had been writing a letter to Hermione earlier in the day, and, although his room was a mess, he was sure that he had sent off the letter with Hedwig and hadn't used any leftover parchment.

Maybe an owl had flown in while he was asleep and left he letter, and that was the presence he had felt? Or could it be...the Death Eaters? Somehow, though Harry knew that neither of these was not the case. Slowly, he reached out to pick up the piece of parchment.

The phrase curiousity killed the cat flitted through his head, but he payed it no mind and took the parchment in his fingers, which he saw was folded up like a letter.

"And this is why I wasn't put into Ravenclaw," He muttered to himself, sinking back onto his bed. A moment later, he was glad he had done so, for if he had been standing when he had recognized the handwriting of the letter, he was sure his legs would have fallen out from under him. A strange mix of horror and eagerness surged through him, and he began to breathe very fast as he struggled to read the letter, first very quickly, then more slowly. It was very difficult to focus because the parchment was moving so much in his uncontrollably shaking hands, but, as if from a great distance, he began to read.

Dear Harry,

This is a death letter. Albus had each member of the Order of the Phoenix write death letters that we will rewrite and renew each year. They're created with the specific instructions that it must magically send itself out to its recipient within a few weeks of the writer's death. If you're reading this, it means that I've died sometime between July 1995 and July 1996. Terribly sorry about that.

But you're probably grieving (or at least you should be!) and aren't in the mood for all these jokes. As a side note, though, never forget that laughter is the most powerful medicine. The Marauders knew this without a doubt, though I've sometimes forgotten it myself in recent years. If you need more reminding, Harry, just think of the Marauders, and if you need even more, ask Fred and George. I'm sure that they would gladly be of service.

I'm sure you're extremely upset, and are probably inclined to hate the whole world and everyone in it right now. I'm sure I would feel the same way in your place if I was the surviving one of the two of us, and I'm also sure that, wherever I am right now, I'm feeling the same way you are. I had hoped that I would be able to see you through to your graduation at Hogwarts and watch you as you grew up and became an adult--if not as a free man and legal guardian, at the very least as a godfather who cares very much about you and, well, an illegal guardian.

Sometimes life can be so cruel and unfair, and it hurts so much you feel as if you will never be able to go on...but life does go on, Harry, with or without you. For my sake, let it go on with you, okay? Even if you feel as if there is no one in the world who cares enough about to want you to go on--which is completely untrue, but that's for another time completely--then go on in honor of my memory. You would want the same for me if our roles were reversed, and you know it.

It's nighttime right now. I know it is, because these letters are always sent out in the evenings. And it's a clear night. I know that, because part of the magic of these letters is that they need to have the full light of the stars and the moon upon them to operate. Now, after you finish reading this letter, I want you to go outside or to a window or something and find the star Sirius like how you learned to do in your Astronomy class. I want you to look at the star and think about how it is the brightest star in the sky, and it's my namesake, and that you can find it because you know how to. Then I want you to think about what might happen if everyone in the world forgot how to find the star Sirius. Nobody would know which star it was, and it would be impossible to find it among the billions of stars in the sky. But as long as people remember which star it is, they can find it and learn from it. And that's why, Harry, you must never, ever forget me. Or your parents, for that matter. For if everyone were to forget about us, especially those who knew us the best, then we would just be lost among the billions of dead souls, like Sirius would be lost among the stars. And I know that, even if our memories cause you extraordinary pain, that you never want us to be forgotten.

I wonder if before my death I ever got the chance to tell you how much I truly do care about you. You were the single most important person in my life. I cared about you--and I'm sure I still do, wherever I am--more than anyone else in the world, and don't you ever forget that, Harry James Potter. If you ever feel alone in the world, think about your godfather and of what you meant, and still mean, to him. It will likely make you feel sad, yes, but it should also make you feel comforted. And loved. For you are loved, Harry, more than I think you truly understand.

I know that I've acted like a right jerk at times and made you mad, and am sincerely sorry for any negative thoughts that I've caused you, but that's the beauty of close relationships, Harry. They can't be perfect and happy all the time. Sometimes, we want to kill each other, but other times our love for each other transcends everything else. Humans are quite weird, yes, I know, but that's what makes us humans.

Now it's time for the really sappy part of the letter--the closing. (But sap is good sometimes, no? No? Well, stop laughing at me and listen to your elder, for in this case it is!) Make me proud, kiddo. More proud than I am already, that is. I love you, and like I said, don't you ever, ever forget it. I know that you have unbelievable strength, but if you ever need a little guidance or comfort or just a hand to help you up, you know where to find me. And don't shake your head, cause you do. I'm right here, Harry--in your heart. End sappy part.

But, in all seriousness, don't be too surprised if one day you turn around and in the corner of your eye catch a glimpse of a large friendly black dog nudging you forward with a repulsive but, at the same time, strangely inviting and comforting extremely cold wet nose.

Yours forever, your godfather,

Sirius Black

Harry sat on his bed for a long time, unmoving except for the continued shaking of his hands. The mix of thoughts and emotions inside him were more complicated than he had ever felt before, and he could feel his eyes burning and growing steadily wetter without knowing what it meant. How could he ever forget...?

After what seemed like hours, he gathered himself and, still clutching the letter in his hand, walked slowly and shakily but surely to the window, where he gratefully let the slight breeze that had emerged in the night caress his face as he leaned out to look at the stars.

A/N: Rather short, yes, but brevity is the soul not just of wit, but of other types of creative expression as well. In this case, I think the fact that it is not too long is a good thing, considering that I've written twenty page chapters before. This isn't supposed to be complicated and lengthy. In this case, simple is good. I hope you all liked it, and please do review, like I said, this is the first time I've written in a while.