Dearest Jamie,
I remember how the sky looked when we were standing alone in the Astronomy Tower for the first time. I remember the first time I really looked at you, the first time I saw you for who you actually are. I remember the first time our lips met, the first time I let myself be touched with tenderness only you could give me. I also remember the last time it all happened, the last time you said my name between sobs and with that desperate pain in your eyes. You’ll never forgive me for doing what I did, I know. But just know that I cherish every moment we spent together, even when we fought, cried bitterly and raged. Every venomous word uttered, every tear shed - I’m beyond grateful it was all with you. And quite honestly, and selfishly - I’ll admit that myself -, if I could, I absolutely would do it all over again, I would let you corrupt me with your loveliness and I would let myself ruin you with my wrongness.
I know, Jamie, I know, that we were never meant to be. I’ve cursed the whole world all too many times for it, but I’m aware that fate never meant for us to happen. But that doesn’t change the love I have for you, even now. Even when you despise me, think me evil and despicable, even as you get everything you wanted. Everything I could have never given you: a bright home, a beautiful child and the safety of easy love.
I know you won’t forget, you’re too good a person and you love too fiercely to. But I still hope with all my heart that you will. I hope my face blurs in your mind, I hope that you forget the colour of my eyes and the sound of my voice. I hope I become a shadow in your memory, a bad dream, a wraith of the past. I hope you’ll be able to look at my brother without noticing how his hair curls similarly to mine and how his nose arches just like mine does. I, oh so desperately, wish you will look at your son, Harry, and not dream of my eyes on his face instead of your wife’s.
Jamie, I never told you enough, but I want to tell you one last time: you were the first and only love of my life - you still are. The only one I could ever imagine myself next to, the one I would - if circumstances were different- grow old with, the one I would be held by as I drew my last breath. You are the only one I have ever kissed, ever let get close enough to even try, the only one who not only knew me, but cared to know me. Oh, my sweet, sweet Jamie, how I love you.
And as I sit writing this, the Dark Lord on my doorstep, I can’t help but smile with all the love I have for you. I can’t help but yearn and hope and pray that somehow all this could be unmade. But I know it can’t, and it kills me to know it. I love love love love you, Jamie. But I love you too much to wish a life with me for you.
I’ll be dead when you read this, so don’t come looking for me, please. I don’t know what you’ll find. Please, Jamie, forgive me.
I love you,
R.A.B.
The letter slipped from his hands and fell like an autumn leaf on the floor of the wrecked house. The letter that James’ neighbor brought the night after Halloween because it was mistakenly delivered to her, now sunk pathetically onto the wooden boards of the entryway. The letter his younger brother, his Reggie, hastily wrote, scratched onto the thin parchment as a last goodbye to the person he, apparently, loved with all his heart. So Sirius did what seemed to be the only thing he did these days and sank onto his knees and wept. He wept for the love his brother and best friend shared, the stupid coincidence of James never reading the letter before his death, the pain of losing his Reggie all over again. He tore at his hair and curled into a ball on the Potters’ freshly scrubbed floor, he cried out his brother’s name and called for James - begging him to come back, even if only to read this letter and go back, but leave in peace. His heart broke over and over again for them and all the lives destroyed, lost and ruined by the plight of war.
What a fucking shame.