Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.
Harry left the Burrow shortly after Hermione did, taking Sirius with him. Andromeda and Teddy were the first to leave, as Teddy had to sleep, and both Percy and George were staying the night at the Burrow. Harry was tired, and it was a little late, but he had one more thing to do today. There was one letter left.
He opened it slowly, savoring the last time he would break the seal of one of the letters. He hadn't realised how different the parchment was from what he was used to, hadn't realised just what seventeen years of waiting could do to the delicate paper. The ink, hidden from sunlight all these years looked as though it had only dried moments ago, even though the quill that wrote the words was long forgotten.
"The last letter?" Sirius asked him, rehung on the wall. His tone was not joking, there was no trace of laughter in his words. He did understand what it was like, to have the last pieces of someone you loved, to ruin the not-knowing what was to come, Harry realised.
"Yeah. I almost don't want to read it." He didn't want to. He wanted to wait, to keep the unopened memories of his parents forever.
"But if you don't open it now, then who knows when you will? You can't read it never."
And so Harry unfolded the parchment and ran his eyes over the ink marks, eagerly taking in his parents' sweet words.
Dear Harry,
Merry Christmas! This is the last letter. We would keep writing them, but we need to get them to Sirius soon. Otherwise, you'll never be reading these. And if you aren't reading these, we'd rather the reason be we aren't dead. Remind me again how it works? The whole Voldemort-finds-us-and-we-die-but-Harry-lives thing? We can hide him. Anyway, James, didn't you say you had a story to tell? Even though it's a Christmas letter… okay, go for it. Well, it's not strictly a Harry baby story. I was thinking of a when-we-were-at-Hogwarts story. Am I going to regret letting you tell this? Possibly.
During our seventh year, we had a lot of winter snow, and as I'm sure you know, Sirius loves playing in the snow. In dog form. So one morning, Peter, Sirius, Remus, and I planned to go play in the snow. This one? Really? It's a little underwhelming. You only say that 'cause you didn't see the look on your own face. Anyway, Lily woke up earlier than we expected, and requested to join us. Of course, we couldn't say no, and just figured we'd have to find some other time to let Sirius chase snowballs or whatever. I didn't know Sirius had a dog form at the time. I think Sirius was under the impression I'd already told you about the Animagus thing, because the idiot transformed in front you! Yes. It was very frightening. Needless to say, she learned why we have our nicknames shortly thereafter.
Alright, alright. We need to finish this letter now. This ink bottle's almost empty. It is? Yes. Isn't that the third bottle for just these letters? Including all the ones we smeared, yes, it is. Okay, then. Maybe we could do a few more letters? Just one more? Please? You sound like a toddler. And besides, didn't you think these letters were "somewhat pointless" and that "Harry would never read them so why would they matter?" That was before we started writing them. It's fun to retell all these stories. Can you do some more? We have to give them to Sirius tomorrow. Dumbledore said that the longer we're in hiding, the more vulnerable we become. We're only supposed to be sending outgoing letters right now. Having Sirius come to get this package is risky enough, if we wait another week, someone might find him and try to follow him here, and then they'll know we're near Godric's Hallow, and- Lily. You're worrying too much. We'll give these to Sirius tomorrow. We don't have to write anymore, it's okay.
We really are about to run out of ink. Merry Christmas, Harry! We love you!
Love,
Mum & Dad
Harry reread the letter several times, not wanting to believe it was the last one. It couldn't be the last one. But there it was, written on the parchment. All in the writing he now recognised as his father's. If only there were more letters.
"Master," said a voice behind him. Harry flinched. Who the-
"Oh," he said lamely. "Hi, Kreacher."
"The healers is saying that Lucy is having her memory back, sir."
"She does? Kreacher, bring her here. Now." Lucy had seen Snape. Maybe Lucy knew something. Lucy must know something. Lucy did have his mother's scarf, after all.
"Yes, sir." The elf left with a pop, returning moments later with the second elf.
"Harry Potter, sir. I is having my memory back. Thank you, sir."
"Your welcome. Can you tell me who Obliviated you?" The elf shook her head sadly. "What? You can't remember? But I sent you to St. Mungo's, they gave you your memory back!" The had been wrong. Lucy didn't have her memory back. She couldn't remember who Obliviated her, and that was all that Harry cared about anyway.
"Harry," said Sirius, clearly sensing his anger with the healers. "Maybe she doesn't know the person's name." Of course. How could Harry expect her to know her Obliviater's name? But she would know what they looked like.
"Describe what they looked like, then," Harry said, trying to keep his voice calm. He was no longer angry at the healers, but at himself.
"I is by Dumbledore's office, sir, and is about to deliver tea, sir, and there is a woman. She is listening, sir, and is looking frightened. She is holding something, sir. I is not knowing what it is, but it is like silver fabric, sir. And there is talking from his office, and the woman is muttering, and then she is casting the spell at me, sir."
"Yes, but what did she look like?" Harry didn't even know why he asked. He already knew who it was. There was only one time he had ever seen anything that looked like silver fabric, and it was hidden in his closet, wrapped around a small box that couldn't be seen.
"She is having red hair, and… and green eyes, I is thinking. Yes, I is knowing that now."
"Lucy, Kreacher, go back to Hogwarts." Harry instructed them, his mind already a whirlwind of activity.
So it had been Lily. Lily, who had freed and Obliviated the elf. But why? Ron had said… if an elf knew something. Lily had been talking to herself, and Dumbledore seemed to be talking to someone. Perhaps Lucy had heard part of the planning for his parent's to go into hiding. But there must be something more than that. Otherwise, wouldn't Lily have told Lucy to stay silent about it. Or Dumbledore? Harry found he was pacing his room, faster and faster, circles traced in the carpet by his feet. What if… what if the answer was hidden in the letters?
He snatched up the letters, falling out of the brown paper they'd come wrapped in. He opened each letter, rereading some, trying to find a message in between the lines. He even checked in the envelopes, there could be a spare piece of parchment in one. It wasn't until he got to the eighteenth birthday one he found a clue.
P. S. Dld qou timb it gat?
Dih goo find if yst?
Did gou fimb it gef?
Bid yoo find it yef?
Did you find it yet?
Did you find it yet?
Did you find it yet?
Did he find what yet? Whatever it was he was supposed to find, it wasn't in any of the envelopes. There was only one place left to look. The brown paper wrapping. He carefully inspected each and every crease, unfolding the flaps grown still with time, and as he flipped it over, almost out of hope for his search, he saw it. Out of the wrapping fell a smaller, slightly dirty, envelope.
Thank you all for reading! Don't you just love cliff hangers? Cassandra30 and Gime'SS, thanks for the reviews! Desires of Autumn Leaves, it's good to know someone thinks I'm writing Sirius well. I really like writing him (and plan on including him in future stories). Again, thank you for reading, and please review!