When these books originally began to appear in bookshops, Sirius and I were, I believe, among the first to acquire them -- originally because having left Hogwarts made for a rather difficult time keeping track of James, Peter and Lily. We spent a great deal of time bantering, and being generally quite odd and silly. The war existed, yes, but it was a quiet, faraway thing. Since then, a great deal has changed, both here and in the world outside these pages, and the war has become something... not so far off, and ultimately, something far more personal. We have lost a Minister, and some of us have lost far more. Chatter which was once so carefree has become strained as the world has bloodied itself, and it seems no one is untouched.
In these times, I've cause to appreciate these books. For despite the habit of certain unfortunate sorts come round to irritate us, they have given us a bridge of words to others: those whom we, otherwise, would not have met, and those we've known before, whom we would have, perhaps, had difficulty keeping in contact with.
I suppose I am the sort to keep count of these things. But when I first opened my book, and saw Sirius' writing appear across my page, I swore that I should remember, in six months, or twelve, or twenty-four, where I was at that moment.