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Harry,
I don’t know what you’ve heard. Merlin, I don’t even know what you know about me, your parents, Moony, or even Snape. The old bat says you’re safe and one of his now (I suppose you’re not truly one of his since you’re not in Slytherin, but it’s close enough if he’s claimed you).
Pup, I’m so sorry for everything. It was my fault your parents died, and I hope you can forgive me for that someday. I didn’t know Peter was the Secret Keeper, I swear it, but I was the one who suggested the switch. Hopefully that rat is dead, but if he’s not, keep a wary look out for strange animals--Snape will know what I mean.
But enough about bad blood and memories. I’ve heard you’re a Seeker--gave Snape a heart-attack too. Good on you! Did you know your dad was a Chaser? He would have loved to see you play. I got you a broom for your first birthday. You loved that thing. Scared your mother’s cat to pieces, but you would chase after it, so I can’t blame him. Your dad thought it was hilarious, and so did Lily.
You know they both loved you right? They loved you more than anything and wanted to give you the world. We all did. You were the moon and stars for all of us. I would do anything in my power to give your parents back to you.
I’m so sorry. It’s my- It’s all my fault-
I hope you’re doing well in school, and staying out of trouble. Snape told me all about your first year, and how this year started. Did you truly crash into the Willow? We had so much fun with that thing back in our school years--at least until Moony ruined our fun. He was always such a stickler. You should write to him. Snape hasn’t figured out where he’s holed himself away, but if you write maybe he’ll respond. He loves you so much--could never deny you anything, even when it came to his bloody chocolates. I don’t know what he’s been up to--but please forgive him, and let him know that James and Lily would have forgiven him too. It wasn’t his fault.
This is supposed to be about you. Sorry about that. Guess Azkaban’s messed with me a little more than I thought. What’s school like? I heard you have some good friends. What are they like? What do you think of classes? Are you having any difficulty in subjects? I’m no Moony, but I was decent in school. Maybe I can help if you’re struggling? Though I doubt it. Your dad and mum were brilliant. I’m sure you have their brains.
I have to stop now, I think the dementors are doing their rounds soon.
I love you so much, pup.
If-
When I get out, I’m giving you the biggest hug.
Unless you don’t want it.
I would understand if you didn’t.
Love you, pup.
Padfoot (School nickname if Snape hasn’t mentioned it)
P.S. Keep out of trouble, I don’t want that monster making you its next meal, alright?
----
Hello
Sirius Padfoot
Mr. Black,
I have a lot of questions I would like to ask you, but first: What should I call you? I know in your letter, you signed it Padfoot, but I wasn’t certain what you would want me to call you. Professor Snape didn’t say when I asked him. I don’t know you well enough, but since you knew my parents, I really would like to get to know you.
What were my parents like? I know that I look a lot like my dad, and have my mum’s eyes, and that Dad was a Chaser—Hermione told me that, and showed me one of the trophies he got in quidditch for Gryffindor. I know that Mum’s name was Lily, and Dad’s was James because Hagrid told me. And I know that Mum’s hair was really red, since Professor Snape showed me some old pictures. You’re the man with the curly black hair, right? And the one with the old sweaters and brown hair is Lupin? I’m going to write him too, but I want to make sure I know who is who.
How did my parents meet? What kinds of fun did you have with Dad? Was Mum a part of your fun group as well? Why does Professor Snape not like to talk about my parents? Why do you call me pup? What were my parents’ favorite subjects? Do you know what happened to our cat—you mentioned we had one in your letter? Did they have other friends in school that I could ask questions about? Hagrid gave me a picture book, and those pictures had to come from somewhere.
I love it here at Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione are the best, and we’ve been friends since first year--though it took a while to get used to Hermione’s nagging. She’s really smart though, the smartest witch in school. And Ron’s really good at wizard’s chess. We play a lot of games when Hermione isn’t making us do homework. Classes are alright, I guess—though I don’t think I’m as brilliant as my mum or dad. I really like Herbology though, it reminds me of gardening at the Dursleys. Transfiguration and Charms are really interesting too, though I don’t enjoy the essays we have to write for them. Professor McGonagall is very strict, and sometimes I’m pretty sure she doesn’t like me all that much. Potions class was awful until I found out about Professor Snape’s group. He’s nicer now, and I know it’s just an act in class. It’s actually really interesting, and Professor Snape says I have some talent for the subject, even if my essays are atrocious.
Wren (one of my friends from Snape’s group) says she’s looking into ways to get you a trial. Maybe we’ll meet each other someday if things work out?
I would like to meet you.
Harry
P.S.: I don’t blame you for what happened to my parents. Voldemort is the one that killed them, and you didn’t betray them.
----
Harry,
No need to be so formal, Pup. You can call me whatever you like. Padfoot, Sirius, even Siri if you wish. I don’t mind. Whatever you are comfortable with. I’m your godfather, or dogfather, if you want to take James’s word for it.
I know you don’t remember much about your parents--if anything--but if you want to ask around, the Longbottoms were really close with the Potters, so they might have a few stories they could share. I don’t know if they’re still around after the war, but I would start there. The McKinnons and some of the Old Crowd might have a few stories, but you’d have to ask Severus about who’s still alive. I’ve enclosed what I remember about Lily and James in the papers attached here (stuff from James’s and my auror days, the wedding, and school days). It’s not as much as you deserve, but sadly most of my clearer memories of them have faded thanks to the bloody dementors. If you can talk to Moony, he’d be your best bet… If you hear back from him, would you
tell him it wasn’t me
tell him I’m so sorry
let him know Snape’s been trying to contact him?
Anyways, it sounds like you’ve found quite the friend group. Our group at Hogwarts was notorious for trouble, but it was the best thing that ever happened to me save for that bloody rat . You said you like Transfiguration and Charms? Those were your parents’ best subjects in school. Your father had a knack for transfiguring, while your mother was Flitwick’s and Slughorn’s pride and joy when they were teaching. Are those two still there? I know Slughorn probably retired given that Snape teaches his subject, but who knows, maybe he took over some other class to add to his collection. If they are, they’d be some great sources of stories about your mother. Lily was amazing, and all the teachers loved her save for the bloody pricks who thought blood had anything to do with magical ability. No one’s given you trouble for being a half-blood, right? They shouldn’t, considering everything, but if they do, a good Bat-Bogey Hex will do the trick (I’ve included instructions for it below).
It’s good to hear Ol’ Minnie is the same, though don’t ever call her that to her face or she’ll know who you’ve been talking to. Essays were practically all we did back in the day. It was torture for everyone but Moony, but the practical was easy. If you’re having trouble with essays though, it might help to try and outline your thoughts, organize them in a logical fashion before you start. Lily always needed to outline everything or she would write draft upon draft of essays. Drove her mad during OWLs until Remus taught her the trick. I think it was the only thing that kept her sane during NEWTs. James never needed much help, but his handwriting was atrocious despite all the calligraphy lessons Dad your grandfather put him through. Working with quills is harder than pens, so if you need help with that, I’m sure some of your friends could help with setting up practice pages and teaching you how to write a different way if you're comfortable.
If I was there, I would help you in a heartbeat, pup. I hope you know that, and that we will see each other someday soon.
Padfoot
---
Sirius,
Thank you.
I-
You don’t know what it means to be able to read about my parents
I appreciated the stories you were able to share. I’m not sure who the McKinnons are, and Professor Snape doesn’t want to talk about this ‘Old Crowd’ when I ask. But I do know Neville! Neville’s a Longbottom and in my year. He’s really smart and good with Herbology. He’s part of the group too, so I don’t have to keep secrets from him. I’ll ask him if his parents have any stories, though I’m pretty sure he lives with his grandmother or his Uncle Algie from the stories I’ve heard.
I haven’t gotten a letter back from Moony yet, but I’ll tell you when he writes back. Oh, and Flitwick is still a teacher here. I asked him a couple of questions about Mum after class and he invited me for tea this Saturday if he has time. I don’t know who this Slughorn is, but Professor Snape makes that face whenever he’s brought up—like there’s something really gross on his shoe. Do you think that Professor McGonagall would tell me about my mum and dad? You made it sound like you knew her, or were close. Would that mean she was close to my parents?
Hermione thought your idea about practicing with a quill was amazing, by the way. She’s had me practicing for hours. My wrist feels worse than when I didn’t have any bones in my arm this year and I had to drink all that Skele-Gro.
Anyways, I have some essays to write so I can send you this letter. Professor Snape has me hiding them in between the parchments so it’s not ‘obvious’.
Thank you again for all the stories,
Harry
P.S. You don’t happen to know about any type of magical creature that petrifies things, do you?
----
Harry,
What’s this about not having any bones in your arm?
And dare I ask why you are asking about magical creatures that can petrify things? You aren’t in Care of Magical Creatures, are you? I don’t think they teach that until third year. If you’re doing some sort of report, I would look into cockatrices or perhaps a gorgon? I don’t know, I didn’t take that class, but
Peter
I knew someone who did. There’s a fair amount of books on them in the library.
McGonagall would love to talk about your dad. The Marauders—our friend group—drove her mad back in the day, but she had a fondness for James like no other. Let him get away with a lot more than she ever let slide with me until fifth year. I think she found out about me running away and living with your dad, because she softened a little. She’ll likely not wish to mention me, but she might tell you about James.
How were your holidays? Snape says you spend them in the castle. What were your favorite parts?
Padfoot
----
Harry,
Are you alright? I haven’t heard anything from you in weeks. Is everything alright at the castle?
Padfoot
----
Black,
Stop nattering me about your godson. I don’t have time to keep you updated between my patrols. If you must know, Miss. Granger was petrified by the monster here at Hogwarts that I mentioned in a previous correspondence. Your godson has been despondent ever since, which I suspect is the reason behind his silence.
I am not your owl,
Snape
----
Snape,
Hermione’s been petrified? What’s going on? Are you sure Harry is alright? Are there any leads on the monster?
Padfoot
----
Black,
Your increase in letters is just leaving me with more papers to sift through. Desist. I have everything under control.
Snape
----
Snape,
Are you alive? You haven’t sent anything in two weeks, and the potions stopped. Is something wrong?
Padfoot
----
Black,
Everything is fine. Now stop worrying like an old grandmother and drink your potions (I have sent a few cases worth in case I am forestalled once again).
The monster is gone now, and your godson is alive. He is in the hospital wing. Now don’t send me any more notes until I contact you again. While you may be able to sleep all day in that cell of yours, some of us have been busy.
Goodnight.
Snape
----
Sirius,
Professor Snape says you’ve been worried about me. Sorry for being quiet for so long. I’m still in the hospital wing for observation, but I had Ron snag me some parchment. Hermione should be waking up soon, which is good. They’re making it sound like we won’t be having final exams given that a lot of people were petrified. I’m happy they’ll be cancelled, but I can’t help but think about how I would rather take our tests than have had Hermione get petrified.
Everyone’s okay now though, so it’s okay. We were even able to save Ginny from the diary. Wren seems pretty upset about the basilisk though. I don’t know why, but hopefully she’ll feel better soon.
Madam Pomfrey’s coming back. I have to go now.
Harry
----
Harry,
What do you mean, basilisk ? Don’t tell me that was why you were asking about petrification? And what is this about saving Ginny from a diary-
Sirius ignored the sudden jot of ink as he startled. There was a light appearing at the edge of the prison. Aurors.
Dammit.
He quickly doused the candle he’d lit, and shoved it under the rags he called his blankets. Mussing himself up and generally doing his best to look awful in case the aurors decided to check, he shoved the letter into the pouch Severus had left, taking note of the new parchment lying in wait.
Severus had written him a letter as well.
He’d have to look at it later. Once the auror was gone. A flood of warmth let him know that the auror was drawing closer, the dementors chill receding enough to let Sirius breathe. Pressing himself tight against the back wall of the cell, he watched with wary eyes as an unfamiliar guard passed by. They were new--clearly on their first day given how their patronus kept flickering with the fear they were trying to ignore.
“You know,” he called out hoarsely, never one to pass up the opportunity to spook a newbie, “if you turn left you’ll bypass most of the screamers and lungers.”
The auror startled, almost letting out a yelp. Sirius bit back a grin, a dark gleam in his eye. The newby rounded on his cell, clearly gearing up for a rant before he stopped. “S-S- Sirius Black?”
“In the flesh,” he bared his teeth, “or, at least what’s left of me.”
The kid’s, because really, he didn’t look any older than a seventh year--probably fresh out of school and working his way through training--wand shook in his hand harder.
“I don’t bite,” Sirius teased. “Though, I hear my cousin isn’t so nice. Watch out. Heard she gave someone rabies.”
The auror whimpered before darting away and leaving Sirius to once again inhale a harsh, cold breath. Ice crackled in his lungs as any ounce of glee he’d grabbed from messing with the guard disappeared, shattering in seconds. Coughing to try and clear his chest, Sirius shuffled and let his head fall back against the wall with a solid thud. He ran a grimy hand down his face, spreading the filth of Azkaban over his wan cheeks. “Eh, didn’t need your company anyways,” he mumbled, reaching his free hand down into his pouch to filch the letter back out. “Got all the company I need here.”
He pulled the candle out from his blankets, and after making sure the auror was gone, Sirius snapped his finger. With a little persuasion from his magical core, a small flame sputtered to life, threatening to go out until it latched onto the rope and took a life of its own. Thank Merlin for Dumbledore’s dramatics. Sirius had spent weeks trying to learn how the man lit opening feast candles with his bare hands until he was able to do it in his sleep. He’d even set James’s--Sirius’s breath hitched as he thought of the name before quickly quelling the hurt and regret it had welled to the front of his mind--favorite shirt on fire on accident while he’d been sleeping near a pile of laundry.
Shaking the brittle thoughts away, Sirius turned his attention to Severus’s new notice. Severus wasn’t as patient as Harry, so it was more prudent to look at what the man had sent him first. Besides, he was still trying to wrap his head around a basilisk being anywhere near Hogwarts for Harry to mention it so casually. What had this world become? Harry was supposed to be safe. Why couldn’t he just-
Sirius choked out a sob, his breath puffing visibly in front of him.
Dammit. The dementors were early.
Tears trailing down the sharp ridges of his face, he let Padfoot step forward, enveloping himself in the warmth of fur and earth. The terror and despair that had gripped his heart slipped away, the basal satisfaction of the scents lingering from the pouch soothing him. Padfoot could make out the remnants of cauldrons and darkened coffee settled on the newest letter. Harry’s scent had changed over the years, though he could still make out the duff and milk that he’d had as a baby. Now, however, that smell was buried under those of firewood and dirt. Hopefully he would be able to find out where those traces came from someday.
Nosing at Severus’s letter, he flicked it open, the dim lighting not even bothering his canine eyes. Padfoot forced his eyes to focus on the letters, doing his best to make out the words.
He read it again.
And again.
And again a final time.
A flicker of hope burned bright in his chest as he traced the words with his eyes.
I’ve found Remus.