Author's Notes:
Yes, I know, I'm a very bad person. I know I'm supposed to be finishing my other fic: Secret Smile, but I've sort of come to a standstill with that one. I know exactly what to write, the plot and everything, but I don't know How to write it. Oh well, I'm not giving up on it, I'm just… putting it off for a while.
Anyways, I needed a break from writing that one, so here's one that's been in my head for ages. I think I read a fic with Harry and Hermione and Love Letters or something, that wasn't finished, and I just thought that it would be nice to do one myself.
Anyway, let me know what you think and constructive criticism is great. Thankies ^_^
~#Epona#~
* * * *
Harry lay forlornly across his bedspread, his brilliantly bottle green eyes scanning the all too familiar ceiling for the ninth time that day, his breath coming in slow sad shots. His raven hair was messy and unkempt and his appearance was that of someone who did not take pride in their exterior. His manifestation did not endear him to his relatives, far from it. Instead, they chose to let him wallow, drowning in his own private sea of self-pity and mourning. His thoughts were not completely with him, they were locked, far away in a place deep in the treacherous depths of wizard London.
His last remaining trace of any loving family had vanished that day amidst a chaos of spells and curses. The way his body just delicately curved into that graceful arc, and glided almost beautifully, matching the delicacy and elegance of a ballet dancer, was imprinted on Harry's eyes like a tattoo. In that moment, although he did not believe it at first, he had lost the last trace of a long lost father he had ever known. But this was not the sole basis of Harry's culpability.
When it came down to it, he had been a fool. He was stupid to ever believe that there was any reason for him to go to London that day. He had led his friends to a potentially lethal situation, to what cost? A fruitless effort to save his godfather and injuries that 'caused quite enough damage to be going on with'.
This fresh reminder of the damage he had caused to his best friend caused his insides to burn with hot sickening guilt again, and sighing deeply, he mustered what energy he had to turn onto his side to face his window, and was greeted with the snowy white, flustered display of his owl, clearly miffed at having to wait to unload her heavy cargo.
As she fluttered down onto his bed she was immediately joined by two other owls, one he recognised as Pig, Ron's slightly hyperactive little owl, and the other as a Hogwarts Owl. The latter left as soon as it delivered his load, ruffling his feather professionally and soaring straight back out of the window, whereas Pig dropped a large parcel unceremoniously onto the bed and proceeded to flutter annoyingly around Hedwig, who clicked her beak in an indignant manner.
Turning his attention to his post, he spotted that he had four envelopes and three big packages. Picking up the first, it was from Hagrid.
Hello Harry,
Just thought I'd drop you a line for your birthday, hope you're well and all, and I wanted you to get your present. Also Harry --
There was a lot of scribbling out here, and Harry realised with a slight pang, that Hagrid didn't know what to say to him. He vaguely wondered if all the other letters were written like this, with crossings out and awkward sentences.
-- I know you must be feeling down right now, but I want you to know you can talk to me. I know I'm not exactly the best at these situations, but god knows you've helped me enough. Harry, Sirius was a good man --
Harry could not read on. He did not want to deal with using Sirius' name in the past tense quite yet. Skimming down the letter, he reached the bottom.
-- Well, like I said Harry, hope you're well. I'll see you on September 1st and hey, buck up.
Cheers,
Hagrid
Harry put the letter aside and turned to his present. Opening it, he found a large sticky birthday cake, similar to the one he had received on his eleventh birthday, the day he discovered he was a wizard. The memory of the antics on that happy morning brought a small foreign grin to his face. The feeling was strange. It was like he'd forgotten was it was to smile.
Moving onto the next letter, he picked up an untidy envelope with Ron's messy scrawl scribbled all over it. With some contempt, he ripped it open and began to read.
Hiya Harry!
How are you, mate? Well, I suppose that's a bit of a stupid question. Well, Anyways, I thought I'd drop you a line on your birthday, and I tried to put a bit of thought into your present, so as to cheer you up a bit. Yeah, that's right, Me. Ron. Thoughtful. I can be thoughtful sometimes you know.
Harry gave out a unexpected chuckle at that, the feeling felt good. It was just like his best friend to say something sarcastic or funny to make him laugh. He glanced around at the package that Pig had dropped on his bed, as if expecting it to do something strange or out of the ordinary. When it stayed motionless and immobile, he turned back to Ron's untidy squiggle.
You know, Harry, I was thinking. (No jokes there.) You really shouldn't stay all to yourself all summer, Harry, I mean, I know you're missing Sirius and all, but think about it. He was a fun-loving guy, he wouldn't have wanted you to --
There is was again, the all-too-familiar past tense. Once again, Harry decided to skim read down the parchment, in case there was anything else Ron has wanted to tell him, that didn't involve using Sirius's name like that.
Half-heartedly scanning the parchment, his deep green eyes were suddenly drawn to a particularly messy scribble near the end. Harry read it curiously.
Also, Harry, you should know this, since she's probably going to tell you anyways, she tells you everything. I sort of wrote to Hermione a couple of days ago, and asked her out. I don't know whether you noticed or not, but lately, I've sort of developed some feelings for her. I hope this won't affect our friendship or anything, and I don't know how you feel about Hermione, but I hope by telling you it was the right thing to do.
Harry was surprisingly shocked by this unforeseen confession. He had happily led himself to believe that Ron wouldn't realise the signs that he'd been giving off for the past two or so years as symbolic of his growing feelings for Hermione. Oh, Harry had noticed it, he just didn't want anything to come of it…
The truth was, he depended too much on Hermione. He knew it was wrong to rely on her so, but he couldn't help it. He always knew that she would undoubtedly do her best for him, and he had become used to having that solidarity and loyalty next to him in whatever dire situation was facing them, even if she did have to force some sense into him sometimes. He had never had that before, that feeling of someone always being there to talk to, someone to help him with more than homework. The reason why Harry had hoped Ron would keep his feelings to himself, was because Harry didn't want to lose Hermione, which would certainly happen if she went out with Ron. He read on reluctantly.
The thing is though, she hasn't answered me yet. I know it was only a couple of days ago I sent it, and I had to use Errol, since I used Pig to send your present, but even Errol can make that journey in a couple of days. I'm wondering whether it's because she's wondering how to say no or not…
There shone a tiny ray of hope in Harry's heart, and for a minute he felt relieved, than immediately disgusted with himself.
Here was Ron, his best friend, who really liked his other best friend, and he, Harry, didn't want them to get together for want of having Hermione all to himself. He felt horrible, and extremely guilty. He hadn't said that he had felt anything for Hermione, which, now that he thought about it, he wasn't sure, but even if he did, it was still too late. Ron had gotten there first, and was going to take Hermione away from him, and there was nothing Harry could do about it.
With a heavy heart, he continued on with Ron's letter, only half reading it, half staring into space, his depression growing with every letter.
Well, I'm sure she'll owl me back soon, won't she? I mean, it's not like Hermione to just leave someone hanging like this, is it? Oh well, wish me luck!
Anyways, Mum said that Dumbledore has said you can come here now if you want to. Send Pig back with your answer, and we'll come and pick you up.
See ya soon!
Ron.
Harry already knew what his answer was, and it didn't involve leaving his safe, small room, where he could lie and contemplate without any interruption of Ron and his angsty thoughts of whether Hermione would answer him positively or not. Sighing heavily, he reached for the third letter, the one bearing the Hogwarts seal, running a hand distractedly through his jet-black hair. Opening it and reading through it, he found that he had passed a lot of his OWLs with quite good marks. He had gained 9 OWLs, and even managed to scrape an 'Acceptable' in Potions, which surprised Harry. He figured that after Professor McGonagall's furious outburst to Umbridge in his careers advice meeting last year that she would help Harry become an Auror, she might have stepped in somewhere to avoid Snape from failing Harry completely. Although this meant another year or so with Snape, Harry was pleased. He was well on his way to becoming an Auror.
His mood lifted slightly he turned to the last letter and recognised the neat handwriting on the envelope immediately. Hermione.
With instinctive speed he tore open the envelope and read.
Hi Harry,
How are things? Hope the Dursleys aren't giving you too hard a time. They shouldn't be, after Moody and Lupin's little display last month, should they? Anyway, straight to the point…
I know you've probably heard things like this from everybody, Harry, and I know you probably won't want to hear it, but You know you can talk to me, right? I trust you, and I hope you trust me too. Harry, you can't keep things bottled up. If I know you, which I think I do pretty well by now, you're sitting at home everyday lying on your bed and doing nothing but thinking. You shouldn't think too much, Harry, I know it may seem a but hypocritical coming from me, Hermione Granger the Bookworm, but it's true. If you think too much about it, it makes you blame yourself, and what happened in that place was definitely not your fault, Harry.
I know you've probably heard all this before as well, but I want to say it. I hope you'll listen instead of just ignoring this, I'd hate to think that I've wasted my time here. Sirius wouldn't have wanted you to keep yourself to yourself like this, Harry --
There it was again, but for some reason, Harry wanted to read on. Maybe it was her plea that he actually pay some heed to her letter that made him do it, or the fact that she seemed to read his mind and she could inadvertently know what he was doing. It was amazing how much she knew about him, and he instantly marvelled at her knowledge of him.
--Sirius wouldn't have wanted you to not talk to anybody and stay shut up in your room. I'm sure someone must have told you this already, but I know, and I know you know that Sirius wouldn't have been able to live with himself if he hadn't come to help you on that day. He died doing what he wanted to do, and that was fulfilling his duty to you as your godfather. I know that this has left you with next to no family left, apart from your auntie of course, but please don't think that Sirius died for no reason. He died to save you, to protect you. And please don't think that it's your fault. I know if I'd seen him in that dream, I'd have probably felt the same, Harry. So please don't blame yourself, okay?
These few sentences lifted Harry's spirits gently. She sounded genuinely worried about him, and the feeling that she was still there, still unwaveringly pledging her concern and worry and loyalty to him was immensely comforting.
Well, I hope you've listened to me, and paid attention, Harry. Anyways… to get off the subject, I have something else to tell you.
'Here it is,' thought Harry. 'She's going to tell me she's said Yes to Ron. Well, may as well get it over with.'
See, Harry, the thing is, Ron wrote to me a few days ago. And he sort of asked me out. I mean, it was really sweet of him, I've never really been one to draw boys attention and all --
Harry snorted indignantly.
-- but it was really nice when I got this letter telling me how he'd liked me for a while. The only problem is, I don't like him back…
Harry's heart inflated to ten times it's normal size, and he was on the verge of letting out an almighty 'whoop', when he remembered that Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were only a room away, sleeping.
With his spirits soaring, he read on.
I mean, I like him, but only as a friend, if you get what I mean. I don't really think we'd work, what with all the arguing we do. But anyway, I don't really know how to tell him 'no'. I don't want to upset him, but I can't keep ignoring it, it's not going to exactly go away, is it? And to be perfectly honest, I've already got my eye on someone… but let's not talk about that.
Well, that's all the news I've got to say. Just remember, Harry, cheer up and don't think too much. Hope to see you soon, and if you've got any tips to help me with Ron, they would be greatly appreciated!
Love from,
Hermione x
Harry's spirits felt like they would burst out of him in excitement. Immediately, he swung himself unceremoniously over his bed, to reach the loose floorboard under his bed, where he kept all of his secret things like birthday cakes, letters and photos. Grabbing a long piece of parchment, he shifted around on his bed so he was lying along it, his feet somewhere up among his pillows, and started to write a reply to Hermione.
Hiya Hermione,
Things aren't too bad here at the moment, the Dursleys are treating me fine. Then again, they aren't exactly talking to me, so I suppose that counts as fine as well. I really think Moody's magical eye scared Uncle Vernon so much he had nightmares for a week.
I'm surprised at how much you know me, you know, Hermione. I'm not going to lie to you, I could never do that. I have been thinking a lot lately, and yes, I had managed to convince myself that it was my fault. I should have listened to you, Hermione. You tried so hard to tell me it was a trap, and me with my bigheadedness and stupid 'saving people thing' as you put it, I wouldn't listen. I wanted to say that I'm sorry for that. I'm really truly sorry. I was an idiot to think I needed to go there. I lost Sirius and I nearly lost you, and for that I can't tell you how much I hate myself right now. I know you tried to tell me it wasn't my fault, and I believe you for the things you said. Yes, I did read it, and I was amazed at how you knew that I would just read through things like that. You know more about me than I know myself sometimes. But it still comes down to it that I should have listened to you, I should have tried harder to learn Occlumency, and I should never have lost my temper with you. Ever. All you do is try to help me, and all I do is throw it back in your face. I'm a selfish, bad-tempered git, and I only hope you can forgive me.
About the whole 'Ron' situation, I already heard about it. Ron told me when in his letter. He actually seemed pretty excited about it. He didn't say he wrote all that though, which I don't blame him, I don't know how you got it into your head that no one finds you attractive. Anyway I don't really know what to recommend, you know my track record with things like this isn't exactly great. Maybe you could just tell him the truth? You're better at feelings and stuff than I am. Maybe you could tell him that you like someone else, and it wouldn't be fair on him if you went out with him while you still liked this other guy? I don't know.
Well, I hope it all goes well. If Ron gets upset, then It really can't be helped, don't beat yourself up over it. I'm sure he'll be fine, he's your other best friend, I'm sure he'll understand. I promise not to think too much and everything okay? I've just got to find something to keep myself occupied with. Ron's invited me over to stay, which I wasn't going to go, but I think I should, to keep my mind off things. Hope to hear from you soon.
Love,
Harry
He looked back at Hermione's neat scribble, and spotted on the bottom, a small 'x'. A kiss. Turning back to his own, he wondered whether he should add his own little 'x' to the bottom of his own letter. Did only girls do that? Or did she do it because she wanted to? He decided to blow caution to the winds and ended the letter with a small 'x' of his own.
Rolling the parchment up, he quickly gave it to Hedwig, who had been standing on the windowsill, seemingly waiting for him to finish his letter with an impatient air to her posture. As soon as Harry had securely tied the parchment around her leg, she took off, her ghostly white form silhouetted against the midnight sky, to the size of a blackbird, then a robin, then at last, a tiny wren.
Harry speedily wrote replies to the other two, telling them both that he was fine, and there was no need to worry about him, he would see Hagrid in September and told Ron that he'd like to come and stay very much. As soon as all the post and Owls had vanished, Harry flopped down onto his bed, and immediately fell asleep, his face curled in a soft, catlike grin.