A/N: First I didn't want to continue the letter, but, hey, here it is! Yes, it's short, I know, but I'm not used to write in English.
Anyway, thanks to all people who reviewed: Avatar Arkmage and Nigel T, Karri-Granger (my feelings are not hurt as long as you continue reading my story *grins*), BreakDancist, SheenRox and TheLightningBoltStar (as you can see: it isn't) and thanks to my wonderful beta-readers BreakDancist and SheenRox!
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Letters To Him
Chapter 1
Answering
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Harry was sitting on his bed, the letter in his hands. He didn't really know what to think about it. This letter was so strange. Who would feel for him? The only ones who knew about Sirius' and Harry's connection and who were not from the Order of the Phoenix were the Weasley's, Hermione and Neville. He knew that they felt sorry for him, but they had their own problems. And he simply couldn't think of anybody in the order who would write him.
On the one hand, he was very glad that somebody was expressing his or her condolences…...at least somebody who had tact, who was decent enough to say something friendly without accusing Sirius as a murderer he never was. On the other hand he was a bit annoyed that the letter wasn't signed. At least it wasn't a trap of some death eater.
But on top of it all, he still hadn't overcome his godfather's death. Sirius' death, which was caused by Bellatrix Lestrange, a death eater. He felt the hatred rising in him again; the hatred against Bellatrix Lestrange, against every single death eater and especially against Voldemort.
This hatred grew steadily, and now, in the middle of July, he felt like his head would burst if he wasted his thoughts on Voldemort or any death eater. Harry went to the open window, clenched his fist a few times, breathed in the fresh air and felt a bit calmer. He looked at the owl with chestnut coloured feathers, which had settled down on top of Hedwig's cage. His owl had been out for hours now. He wondered where Hedwig was. Then he thought of the letter again……Should he write back…….?
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He finally decided to do it.
The chestnut coloured owl was still with him and wouldn't go away without a letter. It was rather late and outside night began to fall.
Harry took a piece of parchment and a quill and didn't really know what to write. After several attempts he finally had a version he liked.
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Thanks for the letter, but I'd very much like to know who you are. You said you were a friend, but how could I believe that?
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Well, it was very short, but he thought that everybody who knew him a bit would know that he hated passionately to write (especially essays and exams). Nonetheless, it expressed his feeling of uncertainty well enough without letting to know the addressee too much of his soul.
He petted the owl's head and tied the little message to its foot.
"You're a beautiful owl, you know?" he said to the animal. "But I'd very much like to know to whom you belong. Your master isn't evil, he doesn't serve Voldemort, does he?" The owl cooed and shook its head. Harry grinned. "Sometimes I wish that animals could talk. So take this to your master, okay?"
The owl spread its wings and flew out into the darkness.
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A/N: Hey! Now I need your help! I need loads of Chinese names! Female and male first names and surnames! Please! You may invent some, it doesn't matter. I'm just a dud in things like that ...
Next chapter: Harry receives some more letters and some explanations ...