Letters of Responsibility
Remus sat still in his dingy apartment, letting the soothing glow of Lily's memory orb wash over him. The vibrant colors flickered like flames, enveloping him in a cocoon of warmth and nostalgia. It felt as if Lily herself were there, offering him comfort and urging him to remember who he was before the weight of loss and guilt had settled on his shoulders. With each pulse of light, he felt the tightness in his chest loosen, a reminder of the bond they had shared.
Once settled, he decided it was time to clean himself up and get his act together. There was no time to mope around; he had a nephew to take care of, a letter from a friend to collect, and most importantly, a friend to apologize to—no pressure at all.
After a long morning of contemplation, he took the time to groom himself. He carefully dressed in his best robes, a deep forest green that complemented his weary features, the color a reminder of life and growth.
With a sense of purpose, he straightened his clothes, smoothing out the wrinkles, and stood a little taller before heading for the door. The cool breeze greeted him as he stepped outside, invigorating him for the journey ahead. Gringotts was not far, but it felt like a lifetime since he’d last been there—back in the days when money was the least of his worries and the world felt a little brighter.
As he walked through the bustling streets of Diagon Alley, he was struck by the vibrant energy that surrounded him. Vendors called out their wares, witches and wizards hurried by with shopping bags brimming with magical goods. Yet, despite the lively atmosphere, Remus felt a weight in his chest, the reality of his mission grounding him. He was about to step into a new role in Harry’s life.
Arriving at the imposing structure of Gringotts, he paused for a moment to take in the sheer magnitude of the marble facade and the intricate carvings that adorned its entrance. With a deep breath, he pushed the heavy door open, the familiar sounds of goblins chattering and the clinking of coins filling the air. But today, he barely noticed. All he could think about was finding out what Lily had intended for Harry and what role he would play in the boy’s life.
He reached the teller's station, the long queue of witches and wizards fading into the background as he stepped forward. “Ahem, hello. My name is Remus Lupin, and I am here to collect the letter my friend Lily Potter left for me.”
The goblin at the counter looked up, his sharp features framed by an elaborate suit. He scrutinized Remus’s appearance, his expression unreadable. After a moment of silence that felt like an eternity, he finally replied, “Follow me.”
Remus nodded, trying to hide his apprehension as he followed the goblin down a long corridor, farther than he had ever been inside the bank. The polished stone walls seemed to close in around him, and the flickering torches cast long shadows. Despite the slight unease gnawing at him, he powered through. He was here for the letter, and that was all that mattered.
What shocked Remus, however, was that he was led to a grand chamber that belonged to Ragnok, the head of Gringotts. The door closed behind him with a heavy thud, and Remus found himself standing in a lavishly appointed office, adorned with gold and silver accents that gleamed in the soft light.
“Mr. Lupin, welcome to Gringotts Wizarding Bank,” Ragnok greeted him, his voice deep and authoritative. “I understand you are here for Mrs. Potter’s letter?”
“Yes, I am,” Remus replied, trying to steady his nerves.
Ragnok regarded him carefully, his piercing gaze assessing. “I must warn you, Mr. Lupin, I am expecting at least two more individuals to arrive shortly. I would like to read the final will and testament of Mr. and Mrs. Potter together. I hope you don’t have any plans for the rest of the day.”
Remus considered this. He had no pressing engagements, and curiosity sparked within him. Who else would be coming? “I don’t mind waiting,” he replied, a mixture of anticipation and anxiety bubbling in his stomach.
“Very well,” Ragnok said, gesturing for Remus to take a seat. “Please make yourself comfortable. This may take some time.”
As Remus settled into a plush armchair, he glanced around the room, taking in the elaborate decor and the intricate details etched into the walls. Despite the opulence, a sense of foreboding filled the air. He had no idea what revelations awaited him, but one thing was certain: today would change everything.
The teller, Bogrod, returned a few minutes later, clutching a letter sealed with a familiar wax insignia. Without a word, he handed it over to Ragnok, the Head Goblin of Gringotts. Ragnok examined the letter with an air of reverence, running his fingers over the seal as if to verify its authenticity. After a moment, he nodded and passed it to Remus, whose hands trembled as he accepted it.
The weight of the letter seemed to press down on Remus, making his heart race. He suddenly felt facing down dangerous creatures and battle-hardened wizards would be less terrifying, than the simple act of reading a letter from a lost friend.
Memories of Lily flooded his mind—her laughter, her fierce loyalty, her way of knowing everyone better than they knew themselves. Now, she was speaking to him from beyond the grave.
His throat tightened, and for a fleeting moment, he considered walking away. Yet, something in him knew that whatever was in this letter, it was important—not just for him, but for Harry, Sirius, and perhaps the future of the wizarding world.
With clammy hands, Remus cracked open the unfamiliar seal and unfolded the parchment inside. The familiar handwriting, neat, sent a shiver down his spine. He took a steadying breath and began to read, bracing himself for whatever Lily had to say.
To my best friend Remus,
I love you just the way you are—kind, compassionate, and endlessly understanding. You cardigan-wearing, little-furry-problem-having sweetheart; how I wish life had been easier for you. Nevertheless, what’s done is done, and I wouldn’t change a thing about you. Yet that’s what hurts me the most because I know of your self-loathing and internal struggles, particularly with being a werewolf.
Remus, I want nothing more than for you to be in Harry’s life, but I fear that you will always think you’re unworthy of his love or that you’ll endanger his safety. As much as it pains me to say this, that half-hearted love is not what my son deserves. He deserves to be loved unconditionally, just as much as Sirius does. If you continue to question your love and your worth, all of you will remain unfulfilled and discontent.
I won’t apologize for this, but I truly want you to take the time to come to an understanding with Moony. You deserve it; your werewolf side deserves it. Give a pack a chance; confront Greyback if that’s what you wish. Face your demons, Remus. I believe that when you return, you will be stronger and a better man for it. Please, give yourself the chance to live fully. Travel the world if necessary—I know how much you enjoy learning and gaining knowledge. Come back and teach Harry all that you’ve discovered; be the mentor he deserves, one who commands respect and admiration.
I can already envision the family you, Sirius, and Harry would create—strong, powerful, unbeatable. Please, Remus, for me. Embrace life, love, and laughter. Isn’t that what we Muggle-raised say?
Love always,
Lily
Remus’s heart pounded painfully in his chest as he stared at Lily’s words, the weight of her request nearly unbearable. She wanted him to embrace Moony, the very part of himself he had spent his life loathing. How could she ask him to reconcile with the monster that had plagued him since childhood, the one that tore apart his sense of self-worth and humanity?
His hands shook as he clutched the letter, Lily’s voice echoing in his mind. It was too much. She couldn’t have meant for him to do this—to accept the wolf, to find peace with it. He felt the beginnings of a panic attack, his breath growing shallow as the room seemed to close in on him.
Just as Remus thought he might crumble under the weight of it all, the door to Ragnok’s office swung open. Remus turned his head, and his breath caught in his throat.
There, framed by the doorway, stood a young man he hadn't since graduation in '78: Severus Snape.
"Snape," Remus finally managed to breathe out, still reeling from the letter and the sudden appearance of the man who had been such a thorn in his side during their school years.
Severus Snape had wanted to rush to Gringotts the moment the orb vanished, but unfortunately, he had dunderheads to teach. How he loathed being a teacher—each class filled with incompetent students who failed to grasp even the simplest potion-making techniques. He didn't understand how not one of them exhibited any talent.
But now, finally free from his duties as a professor and free of the Headmaster's watchful eye, Severus hurried to the Floo in his office. He stepped into the fireplace and emerged moments later at the familiar, dingy setting of the Leaky Cauldron. Tom’s bar was bustling with its usual early afternoon crowd—witches and wizards milling about, shopping as though the world wasn’t falling apart. But Severus paid them no mind. His thoughts were consumed by one thing: Lily.
Had she forgiven him for his sins? For all the pain and betrayal he had caused? He had betrayed her by relaying that prophecy, but she had still named him as one of the potential guardians for her son. That had to mean something, right? A part of him held onto that fragile hope as he pushed through the busy streets and made his way to the gleaming white marble of Gringotts.
Robes billowing, he strode up to a teller, who eyed him warily. "I am Severus Snape," he announced, his voice sharp. "I’m here to collect my letter from Lily... Potter," he added, the bitterness in his voice palpable when he said her married name.
The goblin, Bogrod, seemed unfazed by Severus's tone. Without a word, he led Severus through the labyrinthine halls of the bank and directly to the office of the Head Goblin, Ragnok. Snape was left alone for a moment, standing before the door. He knocked once, and when a curt response came, he entered the room.
Severus stopped short when his eyes fell upon Remus Lupin, sitting stiffly in one of the chairs. Of course, Severus thought darkly, Lily would have left letters for the remaining Marauders. He sneered internally. What had he expected? Yet, seeing Lupin on the verge of a panic attack stirred a twisted satisfaction in Severus. Whatever the contents of the letter, it had clearly rattled the man.
Remus seemed to shake himself from his anxious state as he acknowledged Severus’s arrival.
Severus sneered, his face hardening. "Good to see you too, Lupin," he drawled, dripping sarcasm in every syllable. He closed the door behind him with a swift motion and took a few steps further into the room, his posture rigid as always.
For a moment, silence hung between them. The room felt thick with unspoken words, old grievances, and unresolved bitterness. But what truly weighed on them both was the invisible presence of the one person who had tied their lives together—Lily.
"You’re here for the letter too, I assume," Severus said, his tone clipped, as though the mere idea of sharing this moment with Remus annoyed him.
Remus nodded numbly. "Yes. It’s… from Lily."
At the sound of her name, Severus felt something flicker inside him—pain, regret, perhaps—but he quickly buried it beneath his usual mask of cold indifference.
"Ragnok said there would be two others," Remus murmured quietly, more to himself than to Severus, as if he was still trying to process everything. But now it made sense. Severus was one of the people Lily had left instructions for, just like him.
Remus looked at Severus, his mind swirling. Whatever came next, it wouldn’t be easy, he knew that much.
"She forgave you," Remus whispered, almost as if he couldn't help himself. He had thought Lily and Snape never spoke after their fifth year.
Snape stiffened, his face paling slightly at those words, but he didn’t respond immediately. His eyes darkened, and for a moment, Remus thought he saw something fragile crack beneath Snape’s cold exterior.
Fortunately for Severus, he was spared the need to respond when the door opened again, and Bogrod entered, carrying more letters. The goblin moved quickly, depositing one letter addressed to Severus Snape and another addressed to Sirius Black onto Ragnok's desk.
Ragnok handed Severus his letter, and with reverent, shaking hands, Severus reached for it. His breath caught as he saw Lily’s familiar handwriting on the envelope. The memories rushed back—memories of their friendship, of everything they had shared and lost. His heart fluttered in his chest, but when he turned the letter over, he noticed something odd. A seal—one he had never seen before. Storing that detail away in his mind for later, Severus opened the envelope, steeling himself to read Lily’s final words.
He began to read, feeling his heart pound heavier with every word, every line, knowing that this letter—her letter—could change everything.
Dear Sev,
If you’re reading this, then I can only assume that I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye in person, and that thought weighs heavily on my heart. You have always been a constant in my life, a source of comfort even during our most difficult moments.
I know we had to keep our friendship a secret after the incident near the lake, but I would never trade our bond for anything in the world. I’m truly sorry that I didn’t reach out after you confessed to relaying the prophecy that targeted my family, and especially my son, to Voldemort. I was angry, and I think that’s understandable. Despite knowing we were on opposing sides during the war, I couldn’t comprehend how you could put a child in mortal peril—my child.
However, I want you to know that when James named Sirius as Harry's godfather, I fought just as hard to name you as well. I wouldn’t have it any other way, Severus. What I’m saying is that I forgive you. I want nothing more than for you to be a part of my son’s life. Be the uncle who is stern yet loving in his own way. Softening your edges around him will only deepen the bond you share. He will love you, Severus, as much as I did. Teach him to appreciate potions and nurture a connection that is uniquely yours.
Please don’t harbor resentment toward him for the actions of his father. Harry is as much my son as he is James's. But he’s his own person, too—give him the opportunity to become the best version of himself. He deserves to know the real Severus Snape, the one I came to admire despite the shadows that sometimes enveloped you.
If you can, help him understand the importance of friendship and loyalty. Show him that true strength comes from within and that it’s okay to seek help when he needs it.
I have something important to share. I only learned about the “prank” that Sirius played and how James saved you during one of our silent moments of connection in the midst of our isolation. I was livid, Severus. Why didn’t you ever tell me? I wanted to tear Sirius apart, and don’t even get me started on the Headmaster for covering up the incident. It was not an accident; it was attempted murder, and Sirius should have faced consequences. I was outraged when James confessed that Dumbledore made you swear a life debt for that. It’s simply outrageous. I still think it’s all unfair.
What I’m trying to convey is that I understand your hatred for Sirius and the rest of the Marauders. But if you could please set that aside when you’re around Harry, I would be forever grateful. Sirius is, after all, his blood-adopted father. If you must co-parent Harry, could you find it in yourself to forget your grudges for a few hours? Sirius is not a bad person, Sev; please give him a chance.
Harry is a wonderful boy, and I know you’ll come to appreciate him. Your knowledge, wisdom, and compassion would mean the world to him. You have the potential to guide him in ways that no one else can, particularly because you understand the darker aspects of our world.
Please take care of yourself and confront whatever demons you have left. Don’t let fear or resentment hold you back from finding happiness, whether with Harry, with Sirius, or even with your own sense of self. I have faith in you, Severus, and I know that you can rise above this.
Life is precious, and it can be filled with love and joy if you let it. You deserve that chance, just as much as anyone else.
Know that I will always be with you, and I believe in you.
Yours always,
Lily
She had forgiven him. His Lily. The realization washed over Severus like a balm to his tortured soul, lifting a weight that had burdened him for so long. She hadn’t died resenting him. That thought alone could have made him want to leap with joy—if he were the sort of man to leap with joy, of course. But no, he wasn’t. He had far more decorum than Black or Potter ever did.
Still, the relief was palpable, even if he maintained his rigid posture. The guilt that had gnawed at him for so many years had, in this moment, lessened. The one person whose forgiveness he craved had given it to him, freely, without conditions. It was almost too much to comprehend.
And her son... Could he truly hate the boy, knowing now what Lily had asked of him? No, faced with this letter, this plea from Lily to give the boy a chance—how could he deny her? Even if he tried to hate the boy, could he really bring himself to do it? Well, perhaps he had tried once, but now… no. Not anymore.
He would make certain, however, that Harry did not grow up to be as reckless and immature as his father. Severus smirked at the thought. He would be there to guide him, to teach him discipline and wisdom. Lily’s forgiveness gave him purpose. The boy would not just be Potter’s son—he would be Lily’s son. And Severus would ensure he became someone Lily would be proud of.
The idea pleased Severus so much that, for a fleeting moment, he even considered not being a complete arse about co-parenting with Black. He’d known since this morning, that Sirius’s name would be cleared. Lily’s letter had undoubtedly provided the proof of his innocence. Black will be released soon, if not already. Severus thought sourly. He bristled at the notion, but he also knew that if Lily had asked for Sirius to be part of Harry's life, he had to respect it.
They would never be friends. Of that, Severus was certain. But they could coexist—for Lily, for Harry. He owed her that much. He owed her everything. For her, he would try, and try he would.
And if it was the last thing Severus did, he would make sure Harry Potter loved potions. Oh yes, he thought, a malicious glint flashing briefly in his eyes. He imagined the look on James Potter’s face if he knew that his son adored a subject taught by his old nemesis. That would be the ultimate tribute. He would have cackled, if not for the current company.
Remus watched as Snape read his letter, curiosity gnawing at him. The usual stoic Potions Master seemed uncharacteristically... content. It wasn’t anything overt, but the permanent scowl that usually marred Severus’s features had softened. There was an almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of his lips—something close to a smile. Whatever Lily had written, it had clearly made him unbelievably happy. Definitely not like my letter, Remus thought bitterly, a knot tightening in his chest.
He didn’t know what to do with himself. Should he ask? What could he say? He doubted Severus would give him a straight answer, but curiosity got the better of him. “A good letter, I hope?” he ventured cautiously.
Severus’s expression immediately hardened, his features snapping back into place as if caught off guard. His eyes flicked toward Remus, and for a moment, something predatory gleamed in them. "I have a job to do," Snape replied, his voice smooth but with a sharp edge. "Lily wouldn’t have left those instructions and responsibilities without a reason. Whatever she's entrusted us with, we owe it to her to see it through."
The words hit Remus harder than he expected. Of course Severus had to twist the knife. But what Snape didn’t realize was that his remark also stirred something deeper in Remus. Beneath the guilt, the self-loathing, and the dread that filled him after reading Lily's letter, a small part of him knew she was right. Every word she had written was true. I will always think I’m unworthy, Remus admitted to himself. And I will always feel like a danger to Harry. The thought of the child being deprived of unconditional love weighed heavily on him. He had no choice but to do what Lily asked, no matter how difficult it would be.
Before he could respond to Snape, the door to the office creaked open again. The sound cut through the tension in the room like a blade, and Remus felt as if he’d been stabbed when he saw who walked in.
Sirius Black.
His grey eyes flickered from Remus to Snape, guarded but curious. Even after a week in Azkaban, he still looked handsome—although the usual fire in his eyes was dulled by exhaustion. His once-pristine robes were torn and filthy, a stark contrast to the Sirius Black of old, but his presence remained commanding, undeniable.
“Well,” Sirius said, stepping fully inside and closing the door behind him. His voice was rough but carried that familiar hint of bravado. He looked between the two of them, lips twitching into a half-smirk. "This should be interesting."
The room was thick with unspoken tension, but there was something about Sirius’s presence that made the situation feel even more precarious. Remus wasn’t sure if he was relieved to see him—or terrified of what would come next.
Snape stood still, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto Sirius. Whatever fleeting moment of contentment had passed over Snape’s face earlier was now gone. “Black,” he drawled, his voice as cold as ever.
Sirius crossed his arms over his chest, his posture casual but his gaze sharp. “Snape.”
For a moment, none of them spoke, each assessing the others as if waiting for the inevitable conflict. Remus, caught between the two, could feel the weight of history pressing down on them—old grudges, betrayals, and the ghost of Lily tying them together in ways none of them could escape.
Finally, Sirius broke the silence, his tone surprisingly even. “I suppose we’re all here because of her, then.”
It wasn’t a question, but the words hung in the air, a reminder that despite everything that had happened between them, Lily’s influence had brought them to this moment.
Sirius was still fuming as he stormed away from the Wizengamot chambers, his encounter with the meddling Headmaster leaving a sour taste in his mouth. Dumbledore always thought he knew best, Sirius thought bitterly, but he quickly pushed aside the old man’s interference. There were more important things to deal with now. He had been freed, but his life was in shambles, and rebuilding it started with reclaiming what was his.
The first thing on his list was a new wand. His old one had been snapped in two the day they dragged him to Azkaban, and he felt the loss of it like a missing limb. But that was a simple enough task—Ollivanders was still in business, as far as he knew. Afterward, he needed to speak with Grimlock, the Black family’s trusted Goblin, to arrange the payment of his fine and begin the process of claiming the Lordship of House Black. The old traditions still hold some power, Sirius mused, feeling a strange sense of duty to his family’s legacy, after the last week.
More importantly, though, he needed to find the perfect place to raise Harry. Grimlock could help him review the available Black properties, and Sirius would have the house warded by Goblins to ensure his godson’s safety. I’ll make sure Harry has everything he needs—every protection, every opportunity, Sirius vowed to himself, determination flooding through him. His thoughts drifted to Harry, and the familiar ache of separation gripped his heart. I will find you, my son, he promised silently. And I’ll bring you home.
With those thoughts driving him, Sirius apparated directly to Diagon Alley and made his way toward Gringotts. By now, his anger had cooled, replaced by the relentless need to take action. He strode through the bustling street, paying no mind to the curious glances thrown his way. He had a purpose now, and nothing—not even Dumbledore—would get in his way.
When he entered Gringotts, he was greeted by a Goblin at the front desk. After a quick introduction and explanation, Sirius was escorted down a familiar corridor. He assumed he’d be meeting with Grimlock soon, but the Goblin instead led him to a private office and motioned for him to enter.
Imagine Sirius’ shock when he stepped into the room to find not one, but two unexpected faces: Remus, looking worn but still familiar, and Severus Snape, of all people. Sirius stopped dead in his tracks, blinking as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.
Remus, he could understand. He and Lily had been close, just as Sirius had been close to James. But Snape? Snivellus, the same greasy git who had hated them all through their school years? As far as Sirius knew, Lily had cut him off after that horrible incident in their fifth year—hadn’t she?
Ragnok, the Head of Gringotts, watched the entire scene unfold with thinly veiled amusement. This was far more entertaining than the usual dry dealings with wizards. Three wizards with tangled histories and unresolved grudges, all here because of one woman? Ragnok found it fascinating. If only he had something to snack on while watching the drama unfold. Alas, life was full of small disappointments.
The Goblin finally cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the tense silence like a sharp blade. All three men turned to face him, startled out of their own swirling thoughts. Ragnok’s eyes gleamed with quiet satisfaction as he addressed Sirius.
"Mr. Black, congratulations on receiving your pardon. I imagine you’re here for your own letter, just like these two fine young men before you." His voice was thick with professionalism, but Sirius didn’t miss the hint of amusement playing at the corners of the Goblin’s sharp features.
Ragnok reached into his desk drawer, pulling out an envelope. He held it out to Sirius with a gleam of finality in his eyes. "Here," he said simply.
Sirius hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward to accept the letter. His fingers brushed against the familiar weight of the parchment, and his heart skipped a beat. Lily’s letter. He had been waiting for this, but now, with Snape and Remus in the room, it felt strangely personal, intimate in a way he hadn’t anticipated.
Without a word, he opened the envelope, his eyes scanning over Lily’s delicate handwriting. He barely noticed Snape watching him with narrowed eyes, or Remus shifting uncomfortably in his seat. All that mattered now was what Lily had left for him—what her final words might be.
Dear Padfoot,
If you're reading this, I hope it's because you've been given access to our wills. James, being James, definitely left something for you—he always knew how to make an entrance, even in death. I can practically hear him now, cracking a joke about you taking over the world with Harry by your side.
But enough about James, I want to keep this short and to the point. I hope beyond hope that Harry is with you now. I want you to raise him as your own, but if you are reading this, it means I'm no longer here, and that fact alone makes me ache. I hate that I'm not the one to see my little boy grow up, but I'm grateful to know he’s in your care. It’s a comfort I hold onto, even from beyond the grave.
Now, to the most important part: Sirius, listen carefully—Harry is a very special child. When he turns seven, take him to Gringotts. This is crucial. Ask the Goblins for an inheritance test; they’ll know what to do. You’ll understand everything once you read the report, but trust me when I say that it’s vital.
You are Harry's blood-adopted parent, Sirius. Merlin, how glad I am that we went through with it—even if James resisted it at first. He worried it would complicate things, but I never regretted it for a second. This gives you every right over him, just as much as James and I. Fight for him, Sirius. Fight like I know only you can. You’re the best hope Harry has for a life filled with love and freedom. Oh, and just a heads-up: I removed the glamour from Harry before we died. He might grow up to be a mix of all three of us—won’t that be something? I wish I could be there to see it.
I also have a confession to make. Severus and I... we never stopped being friends after that incident in our fifth year. I know you’re probably shocked by this, but we kept it a secret from everyone—even James. I just couldn’t bear to let that friendship go, even after what he said. I forgave him because I understood the pressure he was under, and I know deep down, he never meant it. But more than that, I knew the pain you four caused him, especially the way you and James treated him. Severus never deserved that cruelty, Sirius.
And yes, I know about the "prank." I know everything. How could you, Sirius? How could you put someone’s life in danger like that? That wasn’t just a joke—it was a betrayal. An attempted murder. I’m livid with you for it, and I hope by now you’ve realized how wrong it was. I won’t mince my words: you need to apologize to him. You owe Severus more than you could ever repay, and I expect you to make amends.
I need you to co-exist with him, Sirius. For Harry’s sake. Severus is going to be in Harry’s life, as much as you are. He’s the godfather I chose for him. And while you may never be friends, you will find a way to work together. I believe in both of you. Harry deserves the best of both worlds—he deserves to know the love of all the people I cared for. And yes, that includes Severus. I trust you, Sirius, to put your differences aside for Harry. Show him what it means to love unconditionally. Please. Do this for me.
Now, Pads… I know you admire Dumbledore. I understand why—he's done great things, and his image as a wise, grandfatherly figure is hard to ignore. But I need you to hear me when I say this: do not trust him blindly. I tried to tell James, but he wouldn’t listen. Albus may be a great leader, but he always puts his cause and his reputation before people. I don’t think he truly has Harry’s best interests at heart.
Dumbledore has hinted that Harry might be connected to some prophecy, like Neville, but he’s never been forthright with us. He keeps too many secrets, and I fear he wants to mold Harry into something—a weapon, perhaps. I don’t want that life for my son. I want him to have choices, to grow into his own person, with the freedom to decide who he is. That’s all I ask of you, Sirius. Help him be Harry, not a pawn in someone else’s game.
Also, raise him the Black way. Yes, you heard me—teach him to be cautious, calculating when he needs to be, and resourceful. Harry should know the importance of self-preservation, something neither you nor James ever quite mastered. I know it goes against your nature, but if Harry’s anything like I think he will be, he’ll need the traits of a Slytherin. He’s going to be brilliant, Sirius. I see it in him already. Give him access to the Black library—let him explore what fascinates him. But balance it. Be his moral compass. Remember, even Voldemort was a genius once, before he lost his way.
Above all, teach him kindness and compassion. That will be his greatest strength.
And don’t forget to take care of yourself, too. You deserve happiness, Sirius. Don’t shy away from love. Remus cares for you deeply, and when you're ready, don’t hesitate to give that a chance. You both deserve the world.
Thank you, Sirius. I know this is a heavy burden, but I trust no one more than you to carry it. Love Harry with all the ferocity you can muster, and never let him feel alone.
With all my love,
Lily
Severus and Remus exchanged glances, both keenly aware that Sirius’s letter was significantly longer than their own. Curiosity gnawed at them—what had Lily written to Sirius that she hadn’t shared with them? For a moment, the tension in the room felt almost unbearable, as if all three men were drowning in the weight of what they’d just read.
Sirius, however, wasn’t paying them any attention. His mind was a mess, swirling with a mixture of emotions he hadn’t fully processed. The letter felt like both a blessing and a curse—too much and yet not nearly enough. Lily’s words, her forgiveness, her demands… they filled him with guilt, regret, and a determination he hadn’t felt in years. But at the same time, they tore at him, reminding him of every way he had already failed her.
He had let Harry be taken away. It had only been a week, but it was too long. He’d promised to protect his godson, and already, in just the first week of his freedom, he had failed. But no more. Sirius vowed that he would fight for Harry—he would fight with everything he had to get sole custody of his godson. Harry would not grow up without him, not if Sirius could help it.
But then, there was that part of the letter—the part about the prank. Sirius grimaced at the memory. It was easily one of the darkest moments of his life, something he had always regretted, but never quite dealt with. He had been angry back then, angry at Snape, angry at the world, angry at himself. And Snape had been such an easy target for that rage. He’d thought it was just a joke, a way to lash out, but now, looking back… it was attempted murder. There was no other way to see it. Lily’s anger was justified.
Sirius swallowed hard. His time in Azkaban, even just a week of it, had changed him. He wasn’t the same man he had been before. He couldn’t afford to be. His family’s beliefs, his hatred of Slytherin, his reckless attitude toward life—those were all things he had to shed if he wanted to raise Harry the right way. The Black way, but on his own terms. And if that meant apologizing to Severus Snape, if that was the first step toward becoming the man Lily believed he could be, then he would do it. He would swallow his pride, make amends, and do what was necessary.
His thoughts, though, wandered back to Dumbledore, to the so-called Light side he had fought for. After everything, after giving years of his life to their cause, they had cast him aside so quickly, so easily. No one—not even Remus—had fought for him when he’d been accused of betraying James and Lily. He didn’t know where he stood with them anymore, didn’t know if he could trust them. Remus, who had been more than a friend, had stayed silent. That betrayal lingered in his chest like a wound that wouldn’t heal.
And then there was Snape. Sirius glanced over at the man, still bitter, still resentful, but now… curious. The hidden friendship between Snape and Lily intrigued him. He knew he wouldn’t get any answers from Snape, but the fact that Lily had chosen Snape as Harry’s godfather, alongside him, meant that Sirius would have to find a way to coexist with the man. For Harry’s sake, if nothing else.
As Sirius went to slip the letter back into the envelope, something caught his eye—the seal. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. And that was saying something. After all, he’d been forced to memorize the family crests and sigils of every pure-blood family dating back to the Founders, courtesy of his parents. But this symbol? It was foreign to him, mysterious. His curiosity sparked, but he pushed it aside for now. There were more pressing matters to deal with, and whatever that seal represented would have to wait.
Sirius let out a breath, forcing himself to speak. “I’ve read my letter,” he said, his voice quieter than usual, more measured. He looked between Remus and Snape, weighing his words carefully. “We… we’ve got a lot to discuss.”
Remus shifted, his expression uncertain. “What did she say?”
Sirius hesitated, glancing at Snape, who remained stone-faced, not giving anything away. “She forgave me. But she expects me to make things right.” His eyes flickered to Severus. “Starting with you.”
The room went silent again, the tension palpable. Snape raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that. Remus, on the other hand, looked torn, his gaze darting between the two men, unsure of how to intervene.
Sirius continued, his tone firm. “We have to figure out how to make this work. For Harry.”
Severus, arms folded, finally spoke, his voice as cold as ever. “It’s not about us, Black. It never has been. We’ll do what’s necessary for the child. That’s all that matters.”
Sirius nodded, his jaw set. “Agreed.”
And for the first time in their lives, the two men shared a single purpose: protecting Harry. No matter what it took.