Dear Sirius.
I don't know why I'm writing this. I was watching tv yesterday (thats the 'story painting' by the way) and some sort of therapist or psychiatrist said that writing letters to your past loved ones helps with the grieving process. Ive never had time to grieve for you, i was always forced to move onto something else, but now i have what will feel like eternity.
So I'm going to write to you. I'll tell you everything, even though you probably already know. You always did seam to know everything. Exactly what i was about to do or say. I think you just knew because mum and dad did the same, you always told me stories of them. But anyway, you've probably been spending time up there pranking Snape with James and probably Fred and George too. They found the map you know? They gave me it. You should probably mention that you are Padfoot, they'll be like little fangirls. Tell George I'm sorry we couldn't get to Fred earlier, and tell Fred i'm sorry we couldn't stop George.
I hope they're happy now.
Anyway. I should explain from the beginning. When i woke up during the battle. Just after tom killed me. I still cant register that. I died, i died, i died. So did you, so did remus and mum and dad and peter and Snape and lavender and Dumbledore and so many others. But unlike me, they stayed dead. I cant even die without messing it up.
But i woke up, and when i did everything was different. Different but exactly the same.
I could feel everything pads, still can. Its like empathy, but stronger, like the emotion fills me up until i burst. I knew couldn't stay in that place. Not just Hogwarts, the whole wizarding world. But i couldn't just up and leave.
So i stayed for 3 months, in a room in the three broomsticks, for free because i was to tired to argue. Thats when i found out tom the barkeeper is a squib.
I stayed for three months so I could apologise to everyone who's friends and family were injured or killed. I held their hands, i took away some of their pain, to help them.
Theres rumours about me now, because it took the sadness away a little. I don't know exactly what they are, i don't want to know but i know it was Rita Skeeter.
She's still out there and other than the little rumour about me, she's been doing good. She created a list of everyone who died in the war to commemorate them. Its said that her father was in the first war and got very sick just before the second. He escaped his bed and joined the battle. He got hit in the chest with a reducto and it badly damaged 9 ribs and his right lung, he died on the stairs and it hit Rita hard. I could feel it in her writing. Shes in so much pain, feels so much remorse. She included his name in the list: Lance Andrew Skeeter, ex editor and order member. Died from chest injuries. Father, Brother, Husband and Grandfather.
I keep getting side tracked.
After those three months, i left.
I moved to muggle cambridge, where no one would know me. Occasionally i see a badly disguised wizard walking around and duck into a shop, or turn around, while shoving on my cap. I wear a cap a lot, it was one i found in your room in my sixth year, its the muggle baseball one. There was a letter included, i'll attach it here, I'm sure you would want it.
Hey padddyyyy!!!!
Its me, your brother in arms! I know i shouldn't be sending letters because im in hiding blah blah blah but I CANT MISS MY BEST FRIENDS BIRTHDAY EVER!! So obviously i cant go out, so heres that hat that my dad had, that you always stare at every time you walked past his room. The team is the hornets. ENJOY!
lots of love
Prongs
P.S.lily pad to say its from her too because she washed it so...
Lots of love
Prongs and Redhind
P.P.S. Now she's yelling at me for calling her redhind so Harry's laughing
P.P.P.S he has learnt how to do rolly polly's and wont stop doing them. I'll put a picture.
*at the top*
Cambridge is nice, i have a job at a photo gallery, it's temporary but nice. My boss is a nice muggle women whos in her 50's and always wears homemade dresses and skirts.
Anyway padfoot. I have to go, my shift starts in 15 minutes
Missing you always
Prongslette
----------
And with that, Harry Potter, or as he was known in the muggle world, James Evans, put the letter in a cardboard box under his bed, never to be read.
Ayyy first like proper chapter!
815 words, i'll try and do more next chapter.
Adíos, hiiaka
