Interlude 1: Letter to a Dead Man
Dear Sirius,
I'm really worried about Harry. I found him holding his family at wand point. I think he would have cursed them if I hadn't turned up. He scared me, Sirius. He's not the same boy I met two years ago. I don't know what to do, Siri. He's very broken up about you, I'm afraid he might snap and do something we'll all regret. I feel stupid writing this — I know you're gone, that you've moved on, but dammit Siri, Harry needs you. I need you. I've been alone for too long, way too long. I lost everything that night. Everything. James, Lily, Peter and you. I think you hurt the most. A traitor. After we had trusted you so much, looked past your familial affiliations, made you part of our group, you turned your back on us. You betrayed James, who had treated you like a brother; you returned to your pureblood roots. It was so hard to get over the "fact" that you killed everyone. I was so angry at you, beyond angry. I was wrong about you. I'm so sorry I didn't try harder to find out what had really happened. I'm so sorry I left you to rot in Azkaban. I'm so sorry. If only I had trusted you more, if only, then you wouldn't have been in Azkaban. You would have been here with me and little Harry. You wouldn't have run off, you wouldn't have gone and left me. Like I left you. I'm so sorry. For everything.
I spent my time after you were all gone drifting from place to place, in a blind stupor, in a drunken haze. Wandering about with no real purpose, passing out on the sidewalks. I was a mess, a real mess. An old Muggle man found me one day, passed out, somewhere up north. He took me in even though I was twenty years old, helped me get back on my feet. He died a year later and since then I've wandered about, looking for odd jobs here and there. I couldn't take a job that required any sort of commitment, so most kept refusing me, Muggle and wizard alike. Then Dumbledore offered me the defense job and, well, I had my reservations, but you had just escaped and I wanted to get my hands on you. Rip you limb from limb. Preferably on the full moon. And I did meet you on the full moon.
But I also found something very different. I found an innocent man who everyone had condemned for something he didn't do, and a dead man standing. Finding you were innocent must have been the best thing to happen to me in a long time. I'm not going to lie to you, it did hurt that you believed I was the traitor, although I can't hold it against you — I've done the same and worse. Even though you weren't cleared that night, even though I messed everything up by not taking my potion, I had you back. I was, for the first time in thirteen years, truly happy. I was living a dream because filthy werewolves don't deserve to be happy.
But then I started to believe that the dream was real, that I hadn't cracked and imagined everything and the restraints that were trapping me, holding me back, were starting to loosen. I started to really believe I had my best friend back. But, it was a dream, a dream I was rudely awakened from, a prelude to a nightmare. And you, you were gone. Gone. Stolen away. For ever.
Just when I had someone again, someone to lean on, someone to just be with, someone who didn't care about my furry little problem… just when that happens, when I start feeling less alone, when I start to feel again, start to live, that someone gets taken away. Don't I deserve a break? Why? Did you do it on purpose? Because I left you in Azkaban? I miss you so much. Why did you go? Why? You were supposed to stay in the house. You never do as you're told, ever, and see where it got you. You're gone. Gone, and you're not coming back. You've left me alone. Again. Why does everyone always leave me? Everyone. First my mother because she couldn't deal with having a filthy werewolf living under the same roof. I was six. Then my father, in second year. He was great. It's not fair that he died from a stupid Muggle disease. I don't think I would have lived to see nine without him. Then James, Lily, Peter and you. All in one night. Everyone leaves me. I must be cursed with more than just lycanthropy. Why did you leave me? Why did you leave Harry? He saw it all, you know. He was going to go after you. He went after her to get revenge for you. I couldn't stop him. He hates me though, he thinks I'm trying to take your place. There's only so much pressure a fifteen year old can take, and although he's been remarkably resilient, I'm afraid that this may have just pushed him over the edge. Wherever you are, Siri, I hope you're watching over him. Keep him safe, Siri.
Budge up, save me a seat. I have a feeling I won't survive this war and even if I do, I'm still going to join you. Not yet, though — after the war, after I've killed her for you, ripped her limb from limb.
RJL.