Chapter 1
The door to number 12 slams shut behind him and Harry exhales heavily. The sound of Teddy’s squeals still ringing in his ears. Andromeda’s request swimming round his exhausted brain like an inescapable fate.
Kreacher appears before him with a loud crack and Harry blinks wearily at the elf
“Master Harry will be wanting some supper?” His voice is ancient as the house and Harry lets his head rock back onto the door behind him.
"Not tonight, thanks Kreacher. I need some sleep"
"Of course Master Harry. Kreacher can be taking Master’s box for him”
The box. Harry’s grip tightens on the dusty object and he shakes his head. The only object in the Lupin vault with the note ‘For Harry’ in Lupin’s perfect scrawl. Andromeda had been clear he needed to open the box before he made a choice.
Once in Sirius’ bedroom Harry sits on the clean bed sheets and examines it. It seems to be made from wood, though Harry couldn’t tell you what kind. Intricate flowers are carved onto the sides each seemingly stained with colour. Harry recognises the magical flowers but the workmanship is far rougher than any magic made object he’s seen. On the base of the box he finds a name. Pandora Rosier.
Harry rubs his thumb over the name thoughtfully. Pandora. The name echoes in his head like a ghost and a shiver passes down his spine. Pandora. He shakes his head and sets the box on the bedside table. Three weeks straight of funerals his brain is exhausted. As he drifts off to sleep he could swear the flowers and vines began to twist together, blooming and dancing in the dim starlight.
Harry wakes at 4am to a thought like a scream and bolts up in bed, breathing heavily. Pandora, Pandora Lovegood. Luna’s mother. What the hell was Lupin doing with a box carved by Luna’s mother. Harry twists in the sheets to look at the box and instantly relaxes. Rubbing his eyes tiredly Harry lies back down, drifting back into sleep to the sound of bird song.
By the time Harry has sat down in an armchair with a cup of tea and the box the next morning he’s come to be wary of the object. It clearly contains some magic he doesn’t understand and logically Harry should ask Hermione over to check it out with him before he opens it. It also occurred to him that Rosier is the name of the Death Eater who took Moody’s eye. Was Luna’s mother related to him? Is that how Pandora died? Messing with her family's dark magic? Logically Harry knows he should be careful but in reality, he just chugs his tea and opens the lid.
A flood of warm air like a summers breeze escapes the box and Harry’s senses are flooded with the scent of flowers and sunshine in a way that reminds him of August days at The Burrow and warm spring afternoons by the lake. Inside he finds a folded sheet of parchment with his name on. After a beat of hesitation, Harry unfolds the letter.
Harry,
If you have this letter and the box containing it then I have died. I suddenly feel like a book protagonist. I hope my death was noble and brave in a way that makes you proud of me.
I find myself now, as I watch Teddy sleep, regretting how I handled things with you. I allowed my own grief, self-loathing and the debt I felt I owed to Albus to guide me in a way I should not and I can only hope your parents will forgive me when we meet again.
There are things you do not know, things a child perhaps would not normally care to know about his parents and their friends but that might help you come to terms with the events of this, and the previous, war. Things that might allow you to understand the careful balance of light and dark within us all. Things to help you understand the sacrifices made along the way and guide you in your life from this point on.
Every day you make me proud Harry. You are a credit to your family and it’s all in spite of what you have endured. I hope and plan to go through the content of this box with you in person and that this letter will never see the light of day, however I, above all, know the cost of war.
I am the last living member of my friends. Everyone I have ever loved has died and as such I am the keeper of our secrets. The box contains letters from my friends during their short lives. As they died one by one the letters we had all been keeping under floorboards and in pockets were passed around until after Sirius fell through the veil and I became the last living member of us.
As such you will find stories of love, loss, commitment and harder choices than a bunch of kids should have ever had to make. There will undoubtedly be questions that will never be answered and gaps in these tales no one can fill for you. It is also, I’m sure, a direct invasion of privacy to read the letters. However, we are all dead and this is the closest we can get to being the guiding lights we all wanted to be in your life. If these letters can teach you anything then it will be worth it. Hard to be embarrassed from the afterlife I would imagine.
Please, keep these safe. Each letter contains a portion of our hearts and surely was worth a lot to the recipients for these to have been kept out of the thousands of letters sent over our years together. Even if you elect to never read them. However these are our stories and while we might be content for history to forget us, we would prefer our loved ones not to.
Faithfully yours,
R J Lupin
Harry exhales and slumps back into his chair heavily. His hands shake and he lifts his mug back up to drink some more sickly sweet tea. Letters. Letters to and from his parents, Sirius and Remus. He doesn’t even have to question it. After the letter he found from his mother to Sirius Harry has been craving more of her. An entire box of letters. After calling Kreacher for more tea, Harry places Remus’ cover letter into the upturned lid of the box and lifts the second piece of parchment from the box.
Beloved Lily,
Happy 17th birthday! You’re officially an adult by our standards. A scary thought I’m sure. Not to worry, I’m having fortuitous dreams of the coming year for you, as you deserve! I wanted to write you a quick note with your gift to remind you how loved you are by us all, by some more than others (good morning Mary, you look beautiful today). I saw in the tea leaves you’ve been struggling with how you see yourself lately and you should know that you might not love yourself, but we do.
I know we are all aware that life outside the castle is getting more and more tense these days. Poor Regulus is struggling himself but I’ll leave that for James to handle. Anyway, I wanted to give you something to help you remember the good when things get hard. I carved this from the wood of the tree you and Mary meet under. I carved all of my favourite flowers to bring relaxation and tranquility and managed to capture the essence of love while I worked. I hope when things seem darkest, this helps you remember the light.
Yours, adoringly.
Pandora
Harry runs his thumb over the indents from the quill on the parchment. Luna’s mother and his were close. Extremely if the tone of the letter is anything to go by. His mother’s 17th birthday was spent at Hogwarts, celebrating with her friends and happy. Even then the threat of the war loomed over them. Belated and pointless anger floods Harry and he has to put the letter down in case he damages it. Two generations of kids torn apart by war, unable to enjoy the little moments without the threat creeping in.
Harry drinks some more tea and drafts his own letter.
Luna,
Sorry to bother you, I know you’re taking some time after everything but I came across some letters from your mother to mine and wondered if you wanted to see them? I don’t really want to owl them but if you find yourself near London on your travels you’re always welcome here.
Harry hesitates for a second over the ending of the letter. He’s never been much of an open book when it comes to affection but with a lingering look over the letter from Pandora, he’s reminded that they never knew how little time they had. That he never knew .
I miss you.
Your friend, always,
H J P
Harry hands the letter to Kreacher and asks him to take it to the post office before he picks up the next letter. The paper here is thicker, creamier. As he runs his fingers over the paper he wonders if Remus ordered them in any way or if they’re just scattered about in the box. The paper unfolds smoothly in his hands.
Brother,
I am asking Kreacher to send this without telling Mother or Father. They have forbidden me to write to you following news of your sorting. I am unsure if you are writing to me or if you have too much excitement at school to bother. Headless there is no point responding to this for I doubt I will be allowed to receive it.
I know you must have been imagining it and, frankly, I doubt your small brain could do it justice. Mother was livid. She broke all the china in the dresser with accidental magic when she read your letter. Oh Sirius, it was glorious. Father positively fled for his office. She screamed the house down, it was embarrassing and had it been in public I would have been mortified. She lacks self-control. It’s the only part of her I see in you. The lack of control and lashing out. The two of you are a disaster together because of it.
She took it out on me of course, there is a new rug in the dining room to cover the stains. It’s hideous, that woman wouldn’t know style if it hit her with a stinging hex. Do not concern yourself, however, it was worth it to watch her tremble. I’ve never seen her so weak. You made her weak Sirius. You think yourself powerless under her but you are not. You are the strongest person I have ever met and I wish I was more like you.
I honestly don’t know why she was so surprised, bullheaded, reckless and brave. Of course you’re a Gryffindor . I would not recommend coming home for Christmas. I doubt I shall miss you but I will try to send you those tarts you adore.
I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I am proud of you. I doubt that’s worth much to you but still. Things will have to be different between us now, she was clear I will not be allowed to follow in your footsteps and I assured her I was horrified and equally embarrassed by you. I don’t think she believed me. We shall have to act, you and I.
Congratulations brother.
Yours, irrevocably.
R.A.B
R.A.B, Regulus. Sirius brother. The letter had been sent when Regulus was just ten. What ten-year-old writes like this? Oddly, Harry is reminded of Malfoy. Eleven year old Malfoy certainly spoke like this. Harry can’t help but wonder if Draco was punished the way Sirius and Regulus were. Knowing how much Narssia loves him, Harry doubts it.
He carefully places the letter into the lid on top of Pandora’s and rises from his chair. In the dining room, Harry pulls back the rug and stares at the dark patch of blood.
“Why was this stain left Kreacher? Surely you could have cleaned this out?” The elf shuffles from the doorway and tugs on his ears.
“Kreacher cannot Master Harry, the magic used was dark indeed. Kreacher cannot remove the dark magic from the carpet”
Harry hums and dismisses the elf before staring at the stain as he imagines what must have been done to ten-year-old Regulus Black because of his brother.
Harry sets the entire carpet on fire.