As you most certainly know in three months, almost to the day, it will have been four years since that horrid Halloween night and the beginning of our living hell. Though little Harry may have won that battle for us, Voldemort still won the war. He destroyed enough innocent lives that the magical world may never fully recover. He succeeded in killing off entire wizarding families - the Bones, the Prewitts, the McKinnons - and almost eradicated others - the Potters, the Raegans… But I am afraid that he has now won his final victory over the Raegans. Soon the last living descendant shall no longer be present on Earth.

Oh, I know you, Remus, and I can suppose that as soon as you read this letter you will rush off to find me and save me from myself. You'll do that, won't you? You are the type - you've always tried to put others first. I can assure you, however, that it will be a futile effort. I can be very good at not being found if I don't want to be. You know that.

After all, what is left for me here in England? I have no family; Voldemort saw to that back in school. I have no respect, no credibility; that was lost when I won the notoriety of being His girlfriend. All I have to my name is the heritage left me by my parents. What good is money, anyhow? The past, lives, and happiness can't be bought. Financial stability is nothing if you are emotionally dead.

In a cruelly ironic way, Remus, you were lucky to be only His friend and not His…lover. You were able to retain some anonymity, while I….I would see my face splashed all over wizarding news, reported as saying things I never even thought, under such sickening headlines as "Into the Mind of a Murderer: Secrets Only a Girlfriend Could Know" and "Killer's Girlfriend Tells All!" And how could anyone forget those horrible trials?

I don't believe I told you, but last week a witch stopped me on the street and asked, of all things, whether I wished He were dead. I told her quite honestly that I didn't know. I think I can almost hate Him now. Not for what he did to us, whether living or dead, which was horrid enough, but for what he did to those twelve innocent people. Perhaps you can understand.

Still I am confused. I try not to think too much, period, but I constantly see little reminders of the past, of good times, which always make me wonder how He could throw all that away. I don't think I could ever fully understand how or why.

I have made my decision now to take the fool and the coward's way out. But I haven't forgotten my responsibilities. As Harry's godmother, I have arranged through varied and complex methods to have him watched. Should the Dursleys, as much as I dislike them, ever find themselves lacking because of the boy, they will find anonymous donations for Harry's use only. I have also enclosed this key to the Raegan family Gringott's vault. Feel free to use it - you are the last family of any sort that I have, so it rightfully goes to you.

I can't do this anymore, Remus. I can't live behind this mask, acting as if all's right with the world when it most certainly isn't. I can't live with the pain, the guilt. I'm not strong like you - life has worn me down too far. You always were the stable one throughout everything, not I. Once more, I have failed you. I am very truly sorry.

You are the last Marauder, Remus. Please be strong, for all of us.

Laurel Raegan.