Dear James,
Grimmauld Place stinks. We spent the first day gutting the kitchen, and camped out there a few nights until we'd decided where to stake out a permanent bedroom. Sirius didn't want his old one, nor really any of the others, so we're in the attic with Witherwings for now. I brought over some of my parents' furniture from storage: and if you'd told me at any point that one day I'd be sleeping in my parents' bed with Sirius in his parents' attic with a hippogriff who legally doesn't exist, I'd've died laughing probably.
Dear James,
The new Order's officially meeting tomorrow. Some of the people came over early:
- Molly Weasley: I finally met the mother of the wildest, bravest, funniest heads in Britain; she is a FORCE of a woman. But also quite silly.
- Arthur Weasley: I don't know how he got where he is, being so ordinary. All his talents are hidden away probably. Lovely man though
- ? Tonks: very young, funny. Sirius' baby cousin, apparently, although I would have guessed half-sister, they're so similar. Honestly, she reminds me of all of us, the first time around.
Dear James,
I'm worried about Sirius. It was alright enough when we had something to do, and people to do it with, but now there's not a point to cleaning anymore and everyone's gone. I read to him, and he helps me write sometimes, and he's spent the past week trying to fix the piano...but this isn't going to work. He wasn't meant to stay in one place, and especially not this place. I've half a mind to ask Dumbledore if we can't do Plan B and go to America. Get bikes and live on the road. It'd be very punk.
Dear James,
I told the Nymph about the biking plan. She loves it. I hope Pads has forgotten it by now.
Dear James,
The Nymph found the stash of metal t-shirts Sirius got for her mother back in the day and we cried laughing when she walked in with it last night. We got very drunk and told all the school stories we could remember. It was grand. Sirius passed out early, the lightweight, and after that we had to be quieter. She never stays over, but she did say she'd come more often now.
I told her I was gay last night. I don't know if she was surprised or sad, but I fancy a bit of both. I'm sorry I had to, I really would have liked to take her out. She's the most fascinating person I've met in a long time, and the funniest. Sirius is old and comfortable, but we're just depressed these days, and she's so bright. It's the neon hair probably. And the eyes. And the laugh.
Dear James,
Christmas...Everyone's coming over again, and the kids will be in from school soon, and even Kingsley was spotted laughing. The Nymph and I went to Hogsmeade to get sweets for Pads, and with the snowflakes in the lamplight and the bright shop windows and the smells everywhere, it was all the most beautiful dream. She told me about one time she'd snuck into Zonko's through the cellar entrance and caused a nightmare and a half pretending to be three different people, and gotten away with loads of things to sell in dorms later with her friend (a Slytherin, can you imagine?).
Dear James,
The Nymph and I went Christmas shopping. I didn't get much, but she got joke mugs for everyone and she's going to put together her mum's dry cocoa recipe to put inside. We walked through the park afterward and I showed her how to make the frost pictures Lily invented. James, she's a vision. It's so unfair.
Dear James,
Well, Christmas is over. Everyone left quite suddenly, even the Nymph is away on a case, and it feels more empty now than it ever has. I'm afraid Sirius is going to drown himself.
Dear James,
Apparently I lost half my report on the relations [there is a large tea stain on the latter half of the page which made all the ink run and quite ruined the next several sheets.]
[in the margin] Fuck you Pads
Dear James,
Sirius says to say hello and how's the ambrosia. I wish you were here. He needs you. We both do.
Dear James,
Sirius says hello again. He's better today, taking care of me is something he can do. Likes doing, he says. Also, he finally talked us into taking him to the park last Saturday. It didn't even rain until almost teatime, and I would've gone back then but the Nymph got us chips and found a roof to sit under. Which was alright for her, of course, she didn't have to deal with wet dog later. (She helped anyway though, and it turned into a very nice evening.)
Dear James,
Pads,
[on a fresh page with a clean sheet]
Oh Sirius.
It's all gone to shit. I don't know what I'm doing. We're all waiting around to die here.
Dear Sirius,
I have too much time on my hands and I can't do anything with it, not even write. I'm supposed to be making allies here. I don't think I've ever been so alone.
Dear James,
Tell Sirius when I die the first thing I'm gonna do is knock his lights out.
Dear Lily,
I remembered what you told me. I'll never get to give it to her, but I did it. It's beautiful.
Dear Lily,
I'm broken. So much has happened. I'm so alone. Worse than alone, I'm surrounded by people. You know how it is. I want it to be over.
The diary ends there. There are drawings and diagrams on the next few pages, but it's the end of the volume, and the end of the entries. He's busy for the next few months. And when he does find time to write, he starts a new book.