The Letter From Sirius
Harry returned to Number 4 that evening feeling on top of the world. Anxious to write the letter to Ron he sprinted up the stairs to his bedroom, burst through the door, and was halfway to the writing desk when a small, folded bit of parchment lying on the ground caught his eye.
At first he thought someone from the magical world was trying to contact him, until he realized it was the old note from Sirius he had been about to read earlier that day. He must have dropped it when Aunt Petunia had come to his room.
This unexpected reminder of his dead Godfather hit Harry like a slap in the face. His arms dropped lifelessly to his sides. Malfoy’s wand fell from his limp fingers, spitting out a few green sparks as it hit the ground. The feeling of exhilaration he had since the fight disappeared in an instant, replaced by the familiar, cold, hollow feeling he had had all summer.
Sirius was dead. Who cared about Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, or anything else? His world had been shattered that night, the only person he cared about ripped from him. He would never hear from Sirius again. Unless…
Slowly, tremulously, Harry walked to where the note was laying and picked it up. He had stopped breathing and his hands were shaking. Despite the fact that he had probably read it many times, Harry found himself stunned and unable to open the letter. For some strange reason it felt like Sirius was reaching out to him, like he wanted to tell him something. Maybe it was written in this letter…
After a long pause Harry was finally able to compose himself. Heart pounding and still holding his breath, he unfolded the note and read it:
Send date of next Hogsmeade visit.
Confused at first, Harry looked awkwardly at the note, read it again, then exhaled in disappointment. He didn’t know what he had expected. Definitely something more meaningful than “Send date of next Hogsmeade visit.” He sank back down on the bed.
I’m going crazy…
A small part of him had thought Sirius was contacting him from the other side…it was just a stupid note and here he was getting excited like some chit of a girl getting her first love letter…
Falling back on the bed so he was laying cross-wise, Harry thought back to when he had received this letter.
It had been his fourth year. Barty Crouch Jr., disguised as Mad-Eye Moody, had entered him into the Triwizard Tournament and Harry was about to compete in the second task. He had been enormously stressed at the time, largely due to the fact that he was about to be thrust into the icy cold depths of Hogwarts lake and still had no idea how he was going to live through it. He had sent Sirius a letter bemoaning this and a dozen other traumas, and the next day he received this reply:
Send date of next Hogsmeade visit.
Sirius was coming to Hogsmeade to see him.
Harry had been disappointed when he had received the note for two reasons: one, it had been the shortest letter Sirius had ever written and Harry had been expecting something much longer, and two, it meant that Sirius was leaving the safety of wherever he had been hiding and coming to Hogsmeade, where he was risking being caught by the ministry and given to the dementors.
He looked down at the note again.
Send date of next Hogsmeade visit.
Harry thought of Sirius traveling hundreds of miles, doing his best to not be detected, only to hide in a tiny, cramped cave where he lived off rats; all so he could be closer to Harry. Somehow this image brought a smile to Harry’s face: Sirius had never been the sort to sit around and do nothing. Not like he had been doing for the past few weeks…
A sudden, uncomfortable guilt began to creep over Harry. He couldn’t help but think”Sirius would never sit around and mope like this. And it would be the absolute last thing he would want Harry to do! Sirius would want him to fight, to get revenge for both his and James’s death, to use this time to study and prepare for Voldemort. In fact, if Sirius could see him right now he would probably swear at him and start his bed on fire, just to get him off his rear end and doing something.
This realization stunned Harry. It was true, no wonder he had felt so good after beating up Malfoy: it was the only real thing he had accomplished in weeks! He had just begun to feel ashamed of himself when the whiny, sulking part of himself interrupted his thoughts:
Yeah, but Sirius didn’t know what it’s like to be trapped with the Dursley’s. He didn’t know what it’s like to lose your parents and the only person you could consider family. No one has it as hard as him, and if he wanted to be sad then he definitely had a right to.
Harry felt a little less guilty after thinking this, although there was still a doubtful, uneasy feeling there. Another realization hit him:
Sirius had grown up in a horrible family. He had left when only 16-years old to live with his best friend, Harry’s father, who had been murdered. Sirius then spent 13 years locked up in prison with the vilest and most evil creatures imaginable for a crime he didn’t commit, and the entire world, including his own godson, thought he was a deranged killer.
Suddenly Harry didn’t feel so sorry for himself. The guilty feeling came back as he realized even more:
Sirius knew exactly what it felt like to lose family. He had also gone through a dozen other things just as bad, things that Harry would never know about. If ever anyone had a right to feel sorry for himself, it had been Sirius Black. But instead he got on with his life and fought for the people he cared about. He had fought for Harry until the very end…
The tears began to flow.
A final realization hit Harry; this one the most unbearable of all: Voldemort and his Death Eaters were on the loose and growing stronger: hurting people, killing people! And Harry, the only one who could stop him, had been sulking in his room, doing NOTHING.
How could he sit around and let evil people hurt the innocent any longer?
He glanced at the note one last time:
Send date of next Hogsmeade visit.
Perhaps Sirius had been trying to talk with Harry afterall…
For the first time in his life, Harry Potter burst into tears.
Harry lay on his bed in stunned silence for several hours before getting up, turning on the lamp, and writing a very long letter to Hermione.