ᎠᎬᎪᎡ ᎻᎪᎡᎡY

December 20, 1980

Dear Harry,

I'm so sorry I haven't been able update this journal in such a long time. These last two months have been hectic and upsetting, and my mind has been occupied in so many different ways I haven't even thought about this journal. Today is the first day I've had even the briefest moment of free time, and I've decided to try and record what's been going on since that day in Diagon Alley.

James and I have not left the house since September 29. James quit his job at the Ministry by owl and hasn't left my side since. Every weekend, Sirius stops by the house to visit and brings us groceries, something James actually trusts him to do. Let me tell you, Sirius Black knows how to shop. He brings the most delicious treacle tarts I have ever tasted every other week, and refuses to tell me where he got them! He says it's his 'little secret'...

What does that even mean?!

Anyway, I'm not going to lie. Despite the groceries being delivered to our house and the fabulous treacle tarts Sirius delivers, times are hard. We live in a state of constant fear, jumping every time we hear a noise from the front yard, frequently taking turns keeping watch from the chair placed before the window. Dumbledore assured us that nobody could get into the house without the permission of the Secret Keeper, and even if they managed that there are at least three different Aurors patrolling the neighborhood at all times. Still, I can't help myself from becoming increasingly wary. Someone is after you, little Harry, and I'm not going to take my eyes off of you until this war is won.

Remus, Sirius, and Peter come around almost every single day. They'll stay for hours, playing with you or trying to cheer up James. These past few months have been extremely hard on him as well. As I'm sure you know by now, your father does not like being cooped up indoors all day. He puts on an act in front of me, but when he thinks I'm not looking I can see his shoulders sag and his eyes become void of life. It hurts, Harry, to see the happy, funny, vibrant man that I married turn into a shell of the person he once was. The only times he's truly happy are when he's holding you. I think it's his favorite time of the day, and he never hesitates to tell me how much he loves you and how grateful he is that you're here. Every night, we'll sit in front of the fireplace and spend at least half an hour with you, helping you learn to crawl (even though our efforts are in vain) and trying to persuade you to talk. Just that simple interaction lights up James's whole world, and makes even the darkest nights seem a little bit brighter in our house.

I️ haven't heard much from the war front. It's hard to keep up to date with what's going on when I️ can even leave my house. We've only gone to two Order meetings since we went into hiding, and they've both been held at our house with only the most trustworthy members. Dumbledore says that even though the secret keeper is the only one that can spill our secret, it's better to keep the flow of people in and out of our house to a minimum. While James and I️ wholeheartedly agree with him, it's hard to be cut off from the rest of the world. The weekdays are the scariest part of our imprisonment. Those are the days that I let my mind wander to those that I have lost, both to death and to time.

James' parents, my parents, all of our friends that left on missions and never came back... their deaths stay fresh in my mind. And it's not even just them that I think about. Remus and Sirius and Peter are all at risk. Remus has told us about the dark shadows he has seen lurking behind alley walls, and the eerie feeling he often gets that lets him know he's being followed. Sirius got into a brawl with a suspected Death Eater in a pub only last week, and only escaped the killing curse by a hair when he apparated onto our front step. Peter hasn't had any close encounters yet, but his nerves seem to be increasing every day, like he knows it's just a matter of time.

These are my friends, people who are scared and being hunted because of James and I, and we're powerless to protect them once they venture outside of our home. The never-ending spiral of worry is simply maddening.

But anyway, what good can come from complaining about our situation? The only important thing is that you're safe, and that you'll be able to grow up in a new world once we win this war.

If we win this war.

Ugh, okay, I need to think some happier thoughts, because this journal is just getting depressing! I think that's all I have to say for today, my dear. I love you!

Your stir-crazy mum,
Lily