Harry stood at the window, watching as Hedwig flew out and once again handed the invisible man his letter. He knew professor Lupin was watching over him tonight, he was there every other day. On the one hand he was glad, he knew he could rely on Lupin. On the other hand he was frustrated that not even Lupin saw him fit for information on the Order.
He turned away from the window, it was hard to write letters every three days, especially in the state of mind he was in. It had worked though, not even Hermione had noticed that he didn't speak about Sirius. Oh, he mentioned the name, but never really the person.
Harry sat down on the bed and reflected on the last couple of weeks. He had been immensely grateful to the Order for their 'warning' to that Dursleys. It gave him some time to mourn over Sirius' death without them bothering him.
After spending two days locked up in his bedroom, however, he had gotten too hungry to ignore his stomach any longer and he had gone downstairs to have breakfast. He'd eaten his fill, made breakfast for the rest of the household and done the dishes. That was when Aunt Petunia came in.
'Boy! Decided to grace us with your presence, have you? Well, you can eat if you do your chores, got it? I don't care what those freaks say - you'll work for your keep. I'll be up after breakfast with a list. Now, get out of here!'
Harry had not complained and soon everything was back to normal, except for one thing: Harry could eat as much as he wanted, as soon as he finished the work.
Evenings were the worst time of day for Harry, as he had nothing to do but think. Of course his thoughts would always turn to either Sirius, Voldemort or the prophecy. He had written the apology letters during the first two days, each and every one rewritten many, many times. The letters to Lupin and Dumbledore had been the hardest: he had wanted to apologize for killing Sirius, but he knew that they would nag him until he said it wasn't his fault. So he compromised. He apologized, yes, but only in his own head did he apologize for what was his fault: Sirius' death.
Every three days, he sent Hedwig of. Each time she carried at least three letters: one each to Ron, Hermione and the Order. Other letters went to Dumbledore, Lupin, Neville, Ginny, Luna (once) and one to Flourish and Blotts. Since Hedwig had come back with a reply from the last one, Harry's evenings were filled with less misery and more studying. He had requested two books: Occlumency for Beginners: Enter the Voids of your Memories and Fighting without Wands. Harry had also browsed through all of his Potions texts until he found what he was looking for: the Silencing Draft. He now used a home-made Silencing Draft every night.
After spending two weeks in the house, Harry was quite desperate to get outside and see some sun. Aunt Petunia was only too happy to give him enough garden work to last him at least a year.
And so Harry spent his mornings doing housework, his afternoons doing garden work, his evenings doing 'homework' and his nights waking up from nightmares. And although he wouldn't have been happy with the smile Potter put on his face every day, Snape would not have been able to criticise Harry's abilities of hiding his feelings.
Ginny was concerned: something did not feel right about this. Harry hardly ever wrote letters, let alone to her! Heck, he had written more letters than Dean, and he was supposed to be her boyfriend! And her brother, Harry's best friend for goodness' sake, didn't even notice!
'Ron!'
'What!'
'Come here a minute!'
Ron grumbled and climbed up the stairs to her room.
'What's up, Gin?'
'How many letters have you gotten from Harry so far this holiday?'
'Um…, well, I get one every three days. It's been three weeks since end of term, so about seven, I suppose. Why?'
'Does Harry always write that many?'
'Um… no?'
'Ron! Wake up! Do I have to spell it out! Why does Harry write so many letters now? Why does he say something similar to 'I'm sorry' in every letter? Why does he sound happy at the Dursleys when he never did? Why now, when he is supposed to be grieving for Sirius!'
'Oh come on, Ginny! You're reading way too much into nothing. Harry is only writing so much because he now has the time to. He always had to do all the chores, remember? He's sorry he can't be here with us and he sounds happy because he can do what he wants for once. He is probably sitting in the park writing his next letter right now!'
Harry, however, was doing no such thing. He was, in fact, standing in the kitchen doing the lunch dishes. And for once, he was thinking fondly of Sirius. Their time together had been short, too short, but they had been mostly good times, even if it started out rough. Christmas last year, for example… God rest ye, Merry Hippogriffs danced through Harry's head. Subconsciously he began humming the tune as he went outside to start his daily gardening work.
Tonks smiled as she heard the tune rise from the front garden of number 4 Privet Drive. She hadn't known Sirius for long, but he was a character. It was good to see proof that Harry was remembering him fondly.
'Remus would do well to do that too,' she thought, and then a brilliant idea popped into existence. Perhaps if Remus could hear and see this now, he would finally be able to let go of the past a little.
Tonks squeezed her earring and whispered: 'Remus Lupin, number 4 Privet Drive, invisible, now.'
A few seconds later she heard Remus' characteristic soft apparition pop.
'Tonks? Tonks! What's up?' he whispered urgently, standing close to their lamppost.
'Ssh... Listen.'
Harry was still humming the song, now and then whispering some of the words. A content smile lay on his face as he pruned the roses.
'That's how he would have wanted you to remember him, Remus. Take a leaf from Harry's book, eh?'
Remus nodded, not realising that Tonks couldn't see that. Yes, Tonks was right: this was how Sirius would have wanted to be remembered - with fondness.
