The Last Gryffindor (Sirius Black)

Chapter XXXIII: A Hundred Minus One Day

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If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you.
—A. A. MILNE

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Dear Professor Dumbledore,

I realise you probably won't trust me, and I can't say blame you. I wouldn't believe me. Regardless, I don't have much time. Voldemort is coming. I must be brief.

He can't be killed, so don't needlessly waste lives trying. Don't be heroes. It won't change anything. Does that make me a hypocrite, then, for what I'm about to do? My brother theorised he made horcruxes and, given recent events, I'm inclined to agree. It's something to look into, though you probably already have. You're not the smartest wizard of our age for nothing.

My home is no more, but anything that remains, including the sword, I leave to Hogwarts. I only ask that, if there's a body left to bury, allow me to rest beside my ancestors, even though I probably don't deserve to.

I don't have much time left. Maybe hours. If I said I wasn't afraid, I'd be lying, but there's no way to avoid it now. I will do what must.

With each passing hour, I realise more and more my own arrogance, thinking I could single-handedly avenge my family. I used my connections to the Black family to provide an in into Voldemort's circle, hoping to find a weakness. I've killed some people, and failed to save more than I can count. Perhaps I've lost my last shred of humanity somewhere between then and now. Who just stands back and watch someone get murdered? Who lets a friend sacrifice themself when you know you're going to die anyway?

Professor, you tried to steer me clear of this path of self destruction, as did McGonagall and so many others, but my pride and grief blinded me. My only regret is that the Gryffindor name dies with me. I suppose all things great must fall eventually. Nothing lasts forever.

But that's not true, is it? There are hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of Gryffindors left. Our legacy lives through them. They are who are needed in these dark times. As long as a single brave heart beats, we will still live on.

I'm going home. It is there that I will wait for Voldemort to come, and there you will find my body when all is done. May my sacrifice spare Severus from suspicion and buy my friends time. I look forward to the day when such sacrifice isn't necessary. One day, someone will rise up as our champion.

To the Chosen One, the boy of prophecy, Harry Potter.

Regards,
Aeliana Gryffindor

Lia tossed down the quill, quickly rolling up the parchment and tucking it beneath an ink pot. She could have sat there forever, were it not for a strict schedule she had to adhere to if she wanted to get her last petty spark of revenge out of the way before he caught up.

She couldn't send the letter by owl, for fear that Voldemort would intercept, nor could she just leave it somewhere random to be found, since it would be just as likely that a Death Eater would find it as an Order member.

Unfortunately, she couldn't just walk up to Hogwarts, in all her Death Eater infamy, and give Dumbledore the letter herself either, though.