"I don't hate my life, Sirius." In fact, he loved it almost too much to let it go. "I won't lie and say it was brilliant all the time. It wasn't. I was raised by my muggle aunt and uncle and they--"

He didn't really know how to put what he'd suffered while living with the Dursleys into words.

"--they weren't really nurturing types," he finished lamely.

"But I've got my friends. I've got my best mate Ron's family, the Weasleys. I have the Order."

What was left of it, at any rate.

He paused.

"And I had you. I have you now, I have my godfather, the person who promised to take care of me just in case something did happen to my parents. And even though you can't remember it, you did. You were there when I needed someone. You were the first person I had who was like a real parent right when I needed one the most."

He fiddled with the queen on the chessboard, getting a "My goodness! Someone's a bit too friendly, isn't he!" from the chesspiece before he hastily dropped it back on the board and pretended it never happened.

Then he looked back at Sirius.

"Even though I miss my mum and dad all the time, it still wasn't a bad life, and you weren't the one that took them away. One thing I've learned in all this is that when people do horrible things to other people, they're the ones that are at fault for those things, even if we make mistakes trying to stop them."

There was no blame in those eyes as he looked at his godfather. None whatsoever. In fact, he'd more likely find guilt there, instead.