What If Harry Found Sirius s Letter Years Later

Dust in the hallway, rain on the glass. Some things stay waiting, long after they pass. I came back to the old house, just to clear a room or two. Boxes stacked beside the staircase, photographs I never moved. Every corner knew your laughter, every wall still knew your name. For a moment I could almost pretend that nothing changed. I wish I'd found it sooner, before the years went by. Before I learned to carry questions with no reply. Hidden underneath a drawer, folded deep beneath the dust. There it was in the faded writing, hairy, in the way you always wrote. I knew the second that I saw it, my hands would never feel the same. Because somehow, after all these years, you were speaking once again. You wrote about tomorrow, like tomorrow would arrive. You wrote about holidays, and teaching me to drive. You wrote about the places we'd visit when things calmed down. You never wrote goodbye, because you thought you'd still be around. I wish I'd found it sooner, before the hurt grew old. Before I built my life around things I was never told. The fire burned low, the rain moved on. I folded up the letter, and carried you home.