A/N: Goodness, I'm sorry this is a day late! Life got busy and I forgot about posting anothing chapter to the story. Anyways-here is the fourth chapter, and like I promised, it's in Harry's perspective! Woohoo! Takes place soon after 'ole Voldie kicks the bucket, and Harry ventures back to Grimmuald Place... (not sure on the spelling but I'm too lazy to go grab my copy of OOTP...) Hope you enjoy, and review if you would like. :)
PS - Little fun fact, this song is from the wonderful movie Tangled! If you haven't seen it, go and watch it RIGHT. NOW.
"Mother knows best, listen to your Mother-it's a scary world out there..."
He walks up the steps slowly and carefully, making sure that none of them fall out beneath him as he makes his way into Sirius' room, opening the door and looking inside curiously, with only a twinge of dread sinking into his stomach.
It looks the same as he remember's it from a year ago, only with another fine layer of dust on top of everything. He makes his way in and shuts the door behind him, running a hand over the oak desk by the door before opening one of the drawers and searching through it.
There's a lot of miscellaneous papers in it, most of them ripped at the corners and the ink smeared or faded with several years of no light. He remembers some of the papers, noticing some letters from Remus and Peter in there from their school years, and takes a couple minutes to read them. Soon, though, he finds a letter he had never seen before, due to the fact that it was was in the very back of the drawer and spellotaped to the bottom.
He frowns and pries it up from the wood, examining it carefully before he suddenly feels his heart jump into his throat at what he reads. It's his name written in emerald green ink, in loopy handwriting he had only seen once before.
His mothers.
He opens it hastily, his hands shaking and he unfolds the letter, sitting on Sirius' bed as he does so.
Dear Harry, it reads;
I sincerely hope you don't have to read this. I gave it to Sirius to give you when you turn seventeen, if I can't be there for reason's beyond my control. Your Father would think me morbid, but when it comes to living during a war...I feel like you have to be just a touch morbid in order to survive.
Words cannot describe how much I love you, Harry. I'm watching you play with a toy snitch (a gift from your father, which you should know by now is no surprise) as I write this, and I can't help but wonder where you are in life now. I'd imagine you're about to go into your final year at Hogwarts, and hopefully you're not as...mischievous as your father was. Lord knows that man drove me crazy with his antics...
I hope you're happy. I hope you've found someone who makes you as happy as your father makes me. I hope you have friends as loyal as Sirius, Remus, and Peter. I hope you know how much your Father and I love you, and you live life to the fullest. Sweetheart, you mean the world to me, and I sincerely wish you weren't reading this letter. But you can't change the past-I know I wouldn't want to even if I could. The future is always far brighter than anything that could have happened before.
As my favorite Christmas movie states-it's a muggle movie, so I suppose I don't expect you to understand it completely, "There's always tomorrow, for dreams to come true."
I love you.
Mum.