Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me.
Harry walked back into his bedroom, walking past the long wooden cabinet that covered most of the wall. As soon as he could, Harry had fixed the house, cleaning out the the room he now slept in, as well as a few guest rooms and sitting room and such. A part of that cleanup had been putting up a the wooden cabinet along the wall, covering the portraits, house elf heads, and cancelling out all noise from dear Mrs. Black. Now, the only painting on the wall was of Sirius, beaming and smiling at Harry as he walked by. Harry sometimes had conversations with him, but not very often.
Entering his room, Harry sat down on his chair in the corner. He picked the letter labeled for the Christmas of 1991 off the stack. He opened the envelope, trying not to rip it.
Dear Harry,
Merry Christmas! I hope your first term was good! I wish I could know what house you were sorted into, but seeing as I'm dead if you're reading this, I don't think I do. Remember, if you didn't feel very good about your grades this term, you're still able to catch up. It's when you get into third year that you really can't fall behind in class. I hope you haven't gotten too many detentions. If you have, no need to worry. You can always become a better student.
I'm assuming you'll have met Neville Longbottom? You two have actually met several times. Please be kind to him, if not a friend. Frank was teased about his surname, and I have no doubt that Neville will experience similar teasing. The teasing is ever so awful.
Enough about school. Go build a snowman. Enjoy your Christmas. Eat some food.
Love, Mum & Dad
P.S. Make sure Dumbledore gives you the Cloak. -Dad
P.P.S. Try not to get yourself into too much trouble with the Cloak. -Mum
Harry smirked. Not into too much trouble with the Cloak? Even Hermione consented to sneak into the third floor corridor!
Yawning, Harry placed the letter back where it belonged and readied himself for bed. As he did so, his eye caught on the small vial kept in the bookshelf. Its swirling silver contents seemed to be beckoning Harry to watch what it had in store. Harry shook his head, laughing at himself a bit. He didn't even know why he'd put the memory there in the first place. He didn't have a Pensieve, so he couldn't look at it, not that he wanted to. What Harry thought stanger was his compulsion to keep the memory. Extracting it without a conscious reason was one thing, but keeping it… He supposed that he did know why it was there, though he didn't want to admit it. Harry himself wasn't going to look at it, and he had absolutely no intention of showing it to anyone else. Though if someone did get it, they would know almost instantly whose it was. And though it was silly and unnecessary, the memory was there to remind Harry of how he gotten in this mess.
Again, thank you for reading! I know this chapter is really short, but I'm planning on having chapter seven be longer. Cassandra30, Ainthe, and ragsweas, thank you for reviewing. Cassandra, I have a letter-lengthening concept coming with the next letter. Now: Does anyone want to return to the memory? Possibly find out which one it is?