Full Summary: It is Harry's seventh year at Hogwarts. Sirius had died behind the veil in the Department of Mysteries at the end of his fifth year, and still Harry has problems with it. No one, not even Dumbledore, knows what is bothering Harry inside, nagging away at the corners of his mind and eating at his heart. He assigns Harry to write letters to Sirius as if he were still alive, hoping it will help Harry realize and confront what is driving him insane. Harry drinks and smokes, convinced none of this is bad for him and feeling secluded from the rest of the world. He feels as if he is above everyone else, and that no one can understand what he is feeling. Watch as Harry's letters start out defensive, denying, and short, then get longer and more open as he starts to discover what is eating away at him. Rating for future language.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters. Anything and everything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling or Warner Bros. I claim no ownership over anything in this story, unless I decide to make something up, which I have not decided yet. J
November 18
Dear Sirius,
This is pretty awkward, since you're… not here anymore. Dumbledore suggested I write letters to you as if you were still really here, that it would "help me figure out what I'm feeling inside." I think the man's finally lost his marbles. There is nothing to figure out—I have nothing wrong with me. I don't understand why everyone thinks I do.
Ron and Hermione are going out now. It looks pretty serious, and it's kind of strange, them being a couple. (I'm still single.) It's just a little awkward sometimes. Speaking of Ron and Hermione, they've been mad at me a lot lately. I don't understand why. We always have our rows and they always walk off together. I just don't understand. Usually we get over it (except that one time in fourth year; I remember Ron and my 'big fight'… we used to look back on it and laugh, until now). I just don't understand why everyone's so different around me—they're either mad or concerned, and they say I'm the one who needs help?
Hermione's been doing a lot of lecturing (and yelling) lately, and it's usually pointed at me. Sure, Ron gets a share, but she seems to have lightened up on him. They're both (especially Hermione) always telling me that I've changed a lot. I know that I've changed, but I don't know what all the fuss is about. It's not like I'm a juvenile delinquent or anything. I still do most of the stuff the same. They're supposed to be my friends, and yet they don't accept me. How can that be? I remember two years ago, in fifth year, when Seamus believed what the Daily Prophet said about me. People were scared of me those days, but just because the idiots believed I was mental. Now it's proven that I'm not, but they still reject me. Even my own two best friends.
They say you wouldn't have been proud of me, and sometimes, briefly, I hate them for it. They say I have bad habits. I don't know how they think they can judge me. Smoking and drinking aren't as bad as the world makes it out to be. I don't think they understand that. They don't know what it's like to have their godfather die; how can they judge me? Smoking isn't killing me, whatever they say. Sometimes it's just necessary to take some of the burden off my shoulders. And sometimes I go out to the Hog's Head and drink, but not on a regular basis. Sometimes I get really drunk, but I'm always fine. It's not like I do drugs or am a Death Eater or anything. After all, I am seventeen. They can't tell me what to do.
I don't think you wouldn't be proud of me, Sirius. I think you'd understand and like me just the same.
I graduate this year. Thank God. I need to be away from all these prying eyes and judging mouths. I don't understand why everyone turned on me. I'm glad I'm finally going to be on my own. I just don't know what I'm going to do. For a living, I mean. I want to play Quidditch professionally, maybe, since I love it so much and am a natural. Bud I kind of want to become an Auror as well. You'd know what I should do if you were here.
Graduation is on June 15 this year. I wish you were here to see me graduate, Sirius. You'd be the only person I'd want to attend. You're the only one who would understand what I'm going through.
Harry
A/N: -wags finger- Tsk, tsk. Harry's a bad boy, isn't he? Smoking and drinking… Anyway, this is just an on-the-side fic that hopefully will help me relieve writer's block. Review and tell me what you think. Promise?
OutofAzkaban