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Dear Professor Snape,
I am aware that you are most likely not reading this at all. As you mentioned on many of my potion essays over the years, my 'unreadable scrawl' is easily recognisable and memorised. But if you are reading this letter, then... I am unsure of exactly what to do next. I just wanted to wonder about why no one ever told me that you had survived the war and if it was your fault I guess; I suppose no one ever really thought I would care, right?
I also wanted to write because I am terrible bored. In a way that you couldn't possibly imagine, I am going to wither away into the homework loads that they give us students. Did you know that the Ministry made all of the students go back to redo the last year of schooling, even the ones that had come while you were Headmaster? Because they did. The Potions master is competent, I assure you, since I am sure you are wondering. Or, as competent as Slughorn can be I suppose. The DADA teacher is also completely competent for once; so that's surprising.
From,
Potter, H.
~*~
Dear The-Boy-Who-Lived-Too-Be-A-Pain-In-The-Arse,
Though it may surprise you, I do indeed read all of my mail Potter. Even when it is from the biggest of dunderheads that has ever had the grace to walk this planet. I was unaware that I was to tell you of the fact that I was still alive, actually, which might be why you yourself was unaware. However, as you asked I shall answer, no; I did not personally request that everyone else in the Wizarding World keep the fact of my still being alive away from you. So you have gone back to Hogwarts?
Of course I knew the Ministry told all students to go back to the school; but that's only the ones with no job. I had thought that you would have gotten immediately accepted to be Auror after the war; you do have a great record in the business of chasing down and beating up the bad guys. Don't worry about that though Potter, I am sure the owl that was carrying your letter simply got lost in a storm and has become delayed; the Ministry shall send you a new one.
From,
Snape, S.
~*~
Dear My-Old-Snarky-Potions-Teacher,
Wow. Amazing. Even in a letter I you still have the ability of making yourself seem the most sarcastic creature ever; I could practically feel the sarcasm radiating off of the letter in waves as I read through it. Could you, you know, tone it down a little? Or are you so set in your bastardly and Slytherin ways that you will continue even more simply because I asked you not to? I hope for the first and believe in the latter – oh how life is a bitch.
Anyway, no, there was no cosmic mandate saying that you were alive, but I was simply surprised to see that there was no mention of it anywhere; considering you were a massive help to the war effort, being a spy and all. It would have been nice to get a letter or something since, you know, I watched you bitten by Nagini and saw you dying on the floor of the Shrieking Shack.
Of course I went back to Hogwarts, I have to take my NEWT's! They really don't call them Nastily Exhausting for nothing though. And actually, the owl had no trouble in finding me – there was no storm that blew it off track; thank you for being concerned (I can be sarcastic too!); but I peacefully declined the offer. I have had more than my fair share of crazy mad men after my blood, friends, and family, thank you very much. I really never wanted to fight the bad guys; but I wasn't selfish enough to say 'no' when everyone was depending on me. If you really care to know (though I somehow doubt you do; strange), I am aiming to be a mediwizard when I am finished with school – perhaps an apprentice to Poppy or somewhere at St. Mungo's. I would much rather help people on the hospital bed than out on the battlefield.
So where are you living now a day's Snape? That old house at Spinner's End? I can't really imagine you going back to that rundown place; not anymore than I see myself going to the Dursley's of my own free will and violation. Hah! That would be hilarious. Or maybe not – but the looks on their faces would be! Actually, I am unsure of whether anyone told them that the war is over and that they can come out of hiding... I guess maybe McGonagall took care of it; but I am really not sure. Oh well, I don't really care.
From,
Potter, H.
~*~
Dear Foolish Brat,
No, I will not 'tone it down a bit' as you put it, because you are too weak and Hufflepuff-like to handle the brilliance of the way that I speak. I am a Slytherin and therefore must always act one – a Gryffindor such as yourself simply would not be able to understand. You declined an invitation to skip your last year of school and get a free ride into a well paying job to become a crime fighter to make the world a better place so that you can sign yourself up for more school to become a mediwizard? Well well, Potter, it seems that you are neglecting the Wizarding World's hopes, dreams, and expectations for you. How will you ever become a mediwizard Potter? Surely you know that you need a very expansive knowledge on potions and their properties to even be treated well in the medical field; not many people will care that your are the Boy Who Lived if you can't tell a Dreamless Sleep from Skele-Gro. How do you ever expect to get into such a field?
As to where I am living currently it is not, in my eyes, any concern of yours Potter, so I do not think that I will be telling you any time soon. However, I will inquire how you know of Spinner's End, and I will grant you the knowledge that no, I am not living there. Speaking of child hood memories what are yours of these so called 'Dursleys', and why do they seem so terrible?
From,
Snape, S.
~*~
Dear Greasiest of All Gits,
Though I know that there is no way that you would believe me I know quite well what it is like to be a Slytherin and how to act like one. I was almost sorted into Slytherin in my first year – yes, imagine me in the Snake house! I begged the hat not to put me there however, mostly because at that age Malfoy had been a prick and from all the friends I had made so far in the wizarding world I was told that only bad wizards came out of Slytherin (for the record I know this is not true now, give me a break I was eleven). I was sorted into Gryffindor instead, and really that was just birth right more then anything else. A strange mix though right?
While I personally did not take the offered job and easy way out, Ron did. I think that was more than likely because he just wanted to get out of classes and homework and schooling and the like. Hermione is here with me though; and while the two of them are still together they only get to see each other on the weekends. I that Hermione wants to be the next Transfiguration or Charms Professor to be honest, but I could be wrong. I certainly have been before. As I mentioned before, I never wanted to kill bad wizards. I was not going to say no though as it was prophesied that only I could do it, also, killing Voldemort was a personal agenda so that I personally could continue living. It simply overlapped with what the rest of the world happened to want me to do.
Oh, and you mentioned a list of things that I am expected to do? Why was I never told of this certain list? How am I expected to fulfill this list if I've no idea of what is on it, of what agenda I have been placed up to do? Not that I really have any plans of fulfilling this list if it looks at all the way I am expecting it to, or the way that you are hinting at it being about. I am curious though, so please tell me if you know.
I know about Spinner's End because of, who else but Dumbledore? Really, would you think that there could be any other way? I think he told me about your child hood because he wanted me to try and reconcile with you, but it didn't really work, did it? I know that you think that my childhood was all fun and games, people that absolutely loved me and treated me like an angel for what I did, but that wasn't it at all. No sunshine and rainbows or imagination were allowed in the Dursley household. Petunia, if you remember my mother's sister? Yeah, I was put with that horse faced bitch and her semi-abusive husband, Vernon Dursley. They hate our kind and refer to all of us as freaks. In fact, I had thought that was my name until the year that I started primary school – they were forced to tell me my real name at that point so that no one at the school would think that there was anything strange going on where I lived. Not that it would have been that hard to notice.
As such I was raised in a broom cupboard for eleven years until I got my Hogwarts letter which they tried extremely hard to keep away from me. After my first year at Hogwarts things did get a little bit better, mostly because they were worried about the 'freaks' at that school finding out about something wrong going on. Also, they didn't know that I wasn't allowed to do magic, so that was something I kept over them. That is until Dobby ruined it right before second year – though Sirius did help make it better for a little while... It's a long story and, really, I am getting carried away. This letter is turning into an 'I'm an Orphan, I was abused, pity me!' rant.
From,
Potter, H.
~*~
Dear James-Potter-Clone,
I have not doubted myself when reading for many years, but I had to do a retake when I read that Harry Potter was almost in my house. Tell me, did I indeed read that correctly? Harry Potter, very nearly almost a Slytherin – I suppose that's where the sneakiness comes in then Potter? It's true that not many Gryffindors are capable of that too much... You know they say that your Father was so Gryffindor and so a lion that his blood was as much gold as it was red. Your mother was more of a Ravenclaw, despite the fact that she was sorted into Gryffindor, so if I was going to wager a guess that is the most likely place you got the Slytherin trait from.
So you were unaware of the personal agenda given to you by the masses? Then allow me to be the person to place upon you the knowledge of what your life is to have been like, be like, and soon become like when you finish your schooling:
Be a proper Gryffindor, acting exactly like your father
Kill the Dark Lord and get rid of all Death Eaters
Become an Auror
Marry a nice woman (See: Ginny Weasley is a popular favorite)
Have 2.5 children named for people that died in the war or for people that have done great things for you
I do believe that is all, but as I am sure you have pointed out at some point the press is always changing their minds about you. But it is in my believe that they have stopped planning your life after a wife and children; most likely believing that if you settle down you will remain settled down.
And no, I do not know this because I have any interest in this at all. I thought that I would do you a favor (a shock isn't it?) though even so, it is not as though it was entirely difficult for me to find out the current details of your supposed life; all that was needed was any tabloid found in a market (I say any, but I am sure or hopeful anyway that there is at least one tabloid not devoted to the lives of supposed celebrities). I chose one with your name as the Header on the front page – they were in abundant supply, I tell you. I shall send it with this letter for you to read.
As for why no one would have told you this as of yet it would be my guess that they expected that as the Savior and as The Boy Who Lived you would simply no how to do this your self, I think that they expect you to want to do this all on your own and by your own choice. Though if your choice is something different (which I would expect as of our correspondence) I do not think that the public will be very happy about it.
On another topic, Petunia Dursley? That horrid, terrible, idiotic woman is not fit for a child! She could not take care of a small common house hold potted plant that required little maintenance, let alone a child! Or two! I can not imagine a man that would willingly become her husband – she was, in short, a bitch; a particularly nasty one at that. Some of the problem was that most bitches know that they are a bitch, but she didn't, she thought she was everything and something she couldn't do wasn't worth doing.
This was the whole reason that she hated magic, you know. It is highly unlikely for a muggle born to have any siblings without magic, as you probably didn't know, and Petunia was a squib. That's why she hated wizards and particularly Lily, because she herself wanted to be able to do magic that was technically her right as a muggle born. She simply wasn't powerful enough, however; so when she learned she couldn't she grew terribly jealous. They had been friends before Lily got her letter, you know. I grew up with them, which is how I know so much – Spinner's End, and when Lily became friends with me (the 'freak that lives down the block') she turned into even more of a horror.
I can not believe that someone made you live with that bitch and undoubtedly asshole of a husband. As I said before, she couldn't raise anything – not even a pig; and all pigs do is eat and sleep! And here I thought that you had grown up pampered... You shall have to accept my grudging apology, Mr. Potter, as I had no idea that your home life was indeed very akin to mine. I refused to believe the Headmaster when he told me of such.
From,
Snape, S.
~*~
Dear Dungeon Bat,
I shall now state in writing that I, Harry Potter, fully accept your apology. Personally, I was not actually expecting one at all, let alone in to my own personal agenda, how about we see how well I have stuck to what I have dubbed the Public's Agenda, yeah?
I was almost not sorted into Gryffindor, but I was and what the public doesn't know can't hurt it too badly, right? So that is point one for the agenda of the public. Moving on to the next one, I did indeed kill the Dark Lord, as you say, so that's another point for the public. Though in another what they don't know can't hurt them I did for my own motives as much as theirs.
I have not however killed all of the Death Eaters, and have no plans to do so, as I think that I will leave that to the professional people that go after bad people; because they chose that job, whereas I did not. Point for me! I have yet to and certainly will not become an auror, which means another point for me. The two agendas are neck and neck currently.
I will certainly not settle down with someone like Ginny Weasley, as I see her as a sister, and the idea disgusts me. Well, the marrying someone like my sister and basically having a wife disgusts me, not settling down with someone. I would like to do that one day. Point to me.
And as I shall have no wife, I shall have no kids, obviously. Though adoption is always a good idea, I don't see myself having children at any point in the nearby future, you know? I'd like to have some time to mainly focus on my and relaxing (though school isn't the best for this) before I devote at the least twenty one or so years to the life of another human. Point for me.
That scores up to be two whole points for the Public Agenda, and four whole points for me, double that of the Public one. So I guess that means that I have won huh? At least this time anyway. Can't wait to see what the public says about this, right?
In another rant based topic, Petunia Dursley can raise children, as loathe as I am to admit it. Though he was a pig, now he's a fat assed whale, soon to be known as the biggest mammal on the planet, passing right by the Blue Whale. Not to mention that he is a bigger brat than Draco Malfoy, and that is saying something. He hasn't died of heart disease though (surprisingly enough).
Nor did he die in the earlier stages of infancy as many people would have expected, so I suppose that some could argue that she is an okay parent. I mean, she didn't kill him. I don't think that many people would argue for her though. I really don't think anyone would care to. Neither would it convince anyone, as you said, she'd still be a horse faced bitch.
So as you do not wish to tell me where you live and now that you have apologized for what you have done to me in the past few years, I am hopeful that maybe you would be willing to meet me somewhere? For drinks or some food perhaps?
It could be a place like the Hogs Head or a muggle place much like it, if you didn't want us to be noticed. I am sure many students would recognize their old potion's professor, and not to boast, but more would probably recognize the savior of the wizarding world, right?
Anyway, what do you say? I can even apologize in writing for all of the shit that my father and his friends put you through when you guys were younger, and also for me idiotically standing up for him, if you want.
I just think that the two of us should start over and try to have a redo at life. No one ever said there weren't second chances, right? We could talk like you're Severus and I am Harry as now we are both adults and you are no longer my professor. Though maybe I would also want to do this because I am so bored.
Hermione spends the weekends with Ron, you know (no you wouldn't, why would I say that?) so I am all alone on the weekends and I personally just find that very sad. Again I shall ask, what do you say?
From,
Hopefully Harry, P.
P.S. At least don't call me Mr. Potter, please. Every time you call me that I feel as though I am in trouble, and I think that even just Potter would be better than it.
~*~
Oh Just Read It
Dear Saviour of the Wizarding World,
Good. You shouldn't start expecting apologies from me for anything else I have done because I am not one to apologise often, if ever or at all. Handle yours with extreme care, for you will most likely never get another in your life time.
Yes, I suppose it would be fine if we met in a prearranged area at a prearranged date; as long as I am not busy at the time you wish to meet. I do not understand completely when you say that while you mind not marriage, you would never have a wife. Did you really just come out to me Potter? Interesting as that subject is, I will move on to the idea of you apologizing for defending your own father. Why would you be willing to do that? Lost faith in the old man? Do not get me wrong, I would enjoy you doing as you said you would immensely; and I shall be waiting to hear it when we do end up meeting – that just is not an offer that I could pass up.
And if you are writing to me still (after all this time and letters you must have realised it: I can't be that much fun to talk to for a young man like yourself) then yes, you must be extremely bored, because I am not that interesting to talk to unless you have a love for potions, which you don't.
Going back to the meeting, or whatever you wish to call it, I know a good place for us to meet if you would like to have lunch with me this weekend, say around one on Saturday? It's called Bella's Favourite, and is a small and quiet muggle Italian restaurant near the muggle high street of Perthshire; I am trusting that you know how to apparate well enough without splinching yourself? And that you have the capabilities to find out where Perthshire is if you do not already know?
From,
S, Snape.
PS. I will start calling you Harry if only so I can stop being reminded of your father every time I say your name.
~*~
Dear Snape,
I have officially run out of names to call you by, so Snape will just have to do for now.
And yes, I guess I did come out to you in my last letter. Judging by the fact that I didn't see that certain bit of news in the prophet or any of the other ungodly papers and magazines (merlin forbid it end up in Witch Weekly … ugh), I'd wager you didn't tell anyone? Which is good news for me because you were the first person that I have told about it... Albeit on accident.
I haven't really lost faith in my father, I have just realised how much of a bully he was in school. I am sure that the few years he was married to my mother and when she was pregnant with me and his real job as an Auror had made him mature some (most likely the first part). No one can really stay that childish for years, can they? And don't bring up Sirius because his emotional and mental growth was stunted by Azkaban.
Anyway, my father treated you in an eerily similar way that I picture Draco Malfoy treating me, and I guess you could say that I haven't really wanted to be like him since I looked into your pensive that night during occlumency. Did I ever apologize for doing that? I can't remember, so I'll just say I'm sorry.
Moving on, the Italian restaurant sounds like a great idea, as much as I may hate the name. Italian is one of my favourite foods because it's just so... Simple and homey, if you know what I mean. If you don't know what I mean it would be a little too hard to try and explain to you, so I'll just be forced to leave it at that.
And yes, I know how to apparate without splinching myself! What, do you think that over The Hunt Ron and I just got Hermione to apparate us every time we went to a new location? Ron might have done that, but I didn't! I didn't, so stop thinking that I did...
I'll just stop talking. Er, writing. See you tomorrow.
From,
Harry P.
~*~
Dear Severus,
I'm sorry that after dinner I kissed you. I knew you wouldn't want me to but I did it anyway and I'm sorry. Can we just pretend that it never happened? You know, try and do it all over? Forget about it?
From,
Harry.
~*~
Dear Severus,
After waiting three days I have decided that you didn't read my last letter or are ignoring it. If you didn't read it, I suggested we just try and have a do over of that night and forget the actual one. If you did read it, then maybe we could just keep talking through letters like nothing happened? I can certainly understand if you don't want to see me after what happened.
From,
Harry, P.
~*~
Dear Severus,
Can you at least send one letter back? Please? Just tell me that you don't want to talk any more and I'll stop sending you letters. But, if you do send me that letter then I will know that you at least read this letter, and so I will say sorry again. I will repeat that maybe we could just try to write too each other and not talk about what happened? If you've ignored me for this long then you must really not want to, but I had to suggest it.
From,
Harry.
~*~
Dear Potter,
Fuck Off, leave me alone, and stop sending me letters.
From,
Snape
~*~
2 Months Later
25th of December
Christmas Day
Dear Severus,
I know that I promised not to send you anything else, letters or packages, but I had to send you this for the Yule Holidays because I am ready to admit that I can not believe that many people will get you a present for the aforementioned Holidays.
Or if they do I think that it will be a generic like present – for example, a Christmassy Tie (though you would most likely burn it), or a Santa Hat (it would end up next to the tie). Everyone deserves a present that was thought about and had much effort put into it, and 'everyone' includes you.
I would feel extremely happy and delighted if you could just write and send me a small letter telling me if you, ya' know, burned it or if you didn't, or what you thought about it, you know what you did with it and stuff; but I know not to expect one.
Once again, I'm sorry. You told me once that you didn't apologise often, and yet it would seem that it's all I can do.
Anyway, the present is one vial of: Basilisk venom, its scales, and its blood. I had to face some old horrible childhood memories to find them and take the time to actually collect them for you, so I am asking you extremely nicely to please make some use of them in potions or something instead of throwing them in the fire.
(I should warn you that I read some where that Basilisk Venom or Blood when thrown into fire will make it erupt like a bomb and should thus not be thrown into the fire in any occasion; just in case you weren't aware of it. Strangely enough, when Basilisk Scales gets thrown into the fire it will actually put the fire out entirely).
I can understand that you might want to simply get rid of them in a way that is not via fire, but it felt kind of horrible going down to that room again and picking those ingredients off the corpse of a seventy foot animal that attempted to kill me and nearly succeeded, so I hope that you use them.
From,
Harry, P.
PS. If you want or need any more just send a letter, it would be perfectly fine for me to go down there and get you some more, as it would be for a good cause (you). And at least then I'd be getting some form of correspondence out of you...
~*~
January 9th,
Severus Snape's Birthday
Dear Severus,
I'm breaking my promise again, I know. I can't even tell if you actually read the last one or not, or maybe you warded wherever you live against my letters and owls so that you're not actually getting any of these. I hope that's not the case. After I wrote the last letter my hand cramped up a bit from all the writing, so it would suck if you hadn't even gotten the letter.
If you did read it though, and you are, through some miracle, reading this one, then I think that all of the hand cramping was definitely worth it. Even if you won't send me a letter. Not a single one.
Anyway, as I said I know I am breaking my promise; but I have a reason to just as last time, when I used Christmas to send you a present. Like the Yule present I sent, I suspected that you wouldn't get much for you're birthday either, so here it is, another present.
This one is a picture that took me a long time to draw, and I hope you like it and enjoy looking at it. I especially hope you don't burn it; but who knows? Maybe by saying that I have just made you think that you should burn it simply because it would make me unhappy. Maybe I shall never know.
I would if you sent me a letter though. Telling me if you liked it or not. Although, of course I hope you like it, what's the point of giving someone a present if you hope they don't like it? Anyways, it is of you, and I may or may not admit to having started drawing back in fifth year after I realised that drawing helped lessen the stress of – well everything.
I actually went on a drawing spree in the common room once in Fifth year where I drew everything that I could see around me in the room and if I was looking at something and someone walked past it while I was drawing I yelled at them. I scared quite a few first years that day, I believe. I wonder if I still have those sketches...
From,
Harry, P.
~*~
*Note*
Dear Harry Potter,
I don't know why I have waited this long to send this letter to you. I wrote it shortly after I received the Yule Present you sent me – which I will admit I was shocked to receive such a great and thoughtful gift and I can't begin to imagine where you found it – but I suppose it was because I didn't have enough courage to send it, so I added this note in with it to explain.
I wonder, also, how you found out when my birthday was as I have told very few during my so far lived life, but I also admit that knowing you, I might not wish to know. If I had to wager a guess though, it would probably be Minerva. Or Poppy. Those two could never keep to there own baselessness when I was involved for some reason.
I would also like to thank you for the birthday present too, it is a wonderful drawing and I have had it put in a frame and sat on my dining table so that I may look at it whenever I wish. You are truly multi talented Harry.
From,
Severus.
*Original Letter*
Dear Harry,
Thank you for the Basilisk Venom and the Scales and Blood. They should be extremely helpful in potions that I have wanted to create but couldn't with out those ingredients. Do you know how rare and expensive they are? Many people would pay hundreds of thousands of galleons to get a small sample of any of these and you have freely given me quite a few. That means much to me.
But that's not the most important thing I want to say. Yes, I have read each and every one of your letters, and while I was angry before when you kissed me, I calmed down and thought about it eventually.
I was angry because I was worried that you were doing it because you wanted to make fun of me for it or because you were just going to say 'Just Joking' afterwards. As I believed this to happen as I still believed you to be exactly like your father in that moment, I pushed you away in an attempt to save and protect myself from the pain expected you to inflict; or attempt to anyway.
I can say that afterwards I saw how you weren't going to try and hurt me afterwards and that you truly did mean it. And that, in this situation, I was acting far more like your father than you were. This idea does indeed frighten me some. When I received your Yule present to me, I realised that you are actually very little like your childish and prideful father – you are much more alike to your gentle but hot tempered mother.
I don't know how you have done it, but you, Harry James Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding world, Rash and Selfless Gryffindor at Heart, and Sneaky Slytherin in Mind, you have somehow managed to melt my Slytherin heart.
From,
Severus.
PS. I found this when I was going through some of my old things, and thought it would only be right to send you a present for Yule, even if it is a late one.
~*~
Dear Severus,
Thank you so very much for the photo album of my mother when she was younger! It's so refreshing to see pictures of my mother and to learn things about her when all people ever told me about her was that I have her eyes and temper; most people just tell me how very much I look my father and then expect me to act like him as well.
However much I loved the blue photo album, though, I think that I need to tell you I was more happy and giddy at he thought of you having written me a letter. Hermione has a studying schedule that she made for us since most of our classes are the same and at the same time, and you sent the present and envelope on a study day; so she made me wait the entire day before I was allowed to open and look at them. It was torture.
She let me off the schedule early because the last study session of he day had been Defence, which I exceed at (something which is not boasting, mere fact), so she told me that there was really no point in studying as I already knew all of the material we needed to know anyway. Actually I know much more than wha we were required to know as I learned through the war.
Anyway, I personally think that the only reason I was let go early was because the entire day (or mail had arrived at breakfast) my mind had been preoccupied; and I certainly wasn't getting much work done during the time we were studying.
Every five minutes or so I would feel my eyes slip on to my bag where I had stored the letter, or to the shelf that Hermione placed the letter and package on when I once tried to sneak out of the library with them so that I could open them before the day was over. I think that she either took pity on me about it, or she was just exasperated with me over the entire issue but realised that no matter what she did I wouldn't start paying attention.
Now that I have bored you to death with that lengthy explanation that you didn't need nor likely want, I shall write about the contents with which I found written on the letter itself, as I find them to be of great interest to me; I have, indeed, been thinking about the contents of it since I first read it – then as I re-read it and then re-read it again.
You thanked me for the gifts, for which I am grateful (as I mentioned in my last letter the were no easy to obtain), and you mentioned how you were once angry and how you calmed down enough to think about it. You also wrote that I have melted your Slytherin heart, which I will take to be an entirely Slytherin way of telling someone you love them so that you don't have to say or write the word love.
I will not tell you that you are ridiculous. Nor will I tell you that you should forget about it, or that I do not wish to speak to you any more; as I know that you fear I will do.
I will tell you that you, Severus Snape, are one of the bravest people I know, and that you have stolen my own heart (as Gryffindorish as it is). I hope you handle it the same way that you cautioned me to handle one of your apologies: with extreme care and caution. You will only get it once.
But you are, after all, an extremely careful man.
With Love,
Harry
PS. Maybe we could meet up at that same restaurant in Perthshire and try to have a redo? What do you say?
~*~
1 Month Later
February 14th
Valentine's Day
Dear Harry,
As much as I detest having to write a letter which is to be filled with endearments and compliments to you, one that is meant to be so lovely and sweet and romantic, I feel that as your significant other (I will not allow you or anyone else to call me something as childish as 'boyfriend') it is my duty to give you a nice, long letter to sit back and read on Valentine's Day, the day for couples to share love.
Though I do no feel that we need a special day in the year to share our love as we share each and every day of the year, whether it be a normal day where you attend classes and I work in my Apothecary or if we are to be together and have a picnic out underneath the stars on Perthshire Hill. I will treasure each day that I have with you as much as I treasured the last, and as much as I plan and look forward to treasuring the next.
I have also written this letter because I know hat you have written me one that I shall get on this day, and I will feel guilty, when I sit down with a cup of whisky (or coffee if it comes in the morning) in my favourite armchair, about not sending you one. You also mentioned to me during our last date on how you were helping the youngest Weasley male write one to Granger, and I refuse to be romantically out stepped by a boy who is lost to the world when it comes to romance.
As I thought about that after I wrote it, I realised that no such romantically challenged person as Weasley could write a letter as sweet as he one you described, which ells me that you must have helped him with it much more than you told me you had.
I know that in this letter I should be saying how very much I wished I could be with you, so that I could hold you tight to myself and never let you go. However, if you read his in anywhere slightly less than private then I have no doubt that the entire room / hallway / secret passage / small nook or cranny is filled with floating paper hearts coloured in red, pink, or any shade / tint in between.
If you are in the Great Hall or a main corridor then you will also no doubt see that there are multiple banners of the aforementioned colours hanging from the walls and ceilings; something that Albus always did and something I'm sure Minerva has taken up after him to show respect.
So instead of telling you that I wish I could apparate to you, something we both know to be impossible as you are within Hogwarts' impenatrable wards, or that I could suddenly appear beside you, I shall tell you something else. Becasuse, while I can imagine much worse situaions than Valentine's Day at Hogwarts, it isn't somewhere I would be optionally.
What I shall tell you is hat I wish you could be here with me, I wish you could be here in our home, sitting in your arm chair across from mine, gazng into our fire place or just simply talking to each other. This next part might make you want to be on your own while you read it.
I wish that I could have you spread out on our bed. I wish that I could torture you by denying you release you would want so badly for as long as possible. I wish I could take you, hard and fast as you screamed and writhed for more. I wish I could show you just how much I love you.
But, as you are at the school of Hogwarts and I am here and it is a Tuesday, there is no way for me to sneak you out of Hogwarts with Granger and the professors around, I'm just going to have to settle pleasuring myself as I think about how you must have looked after you finished reading the last two paragraphs or so.
Harry James Potter, his is the end of my letter, I shall tell you. But do no think that this letter contains all that I feel about you and hat it is trying to express the entirety of my love for you. Because, even though I said that I wouldn't write the cliché things of a Hufflepuff, I need to write this down: There is no way a letter could express how much I love you. Even if I only consisted of the five words, 'I Love You' and 'Dear Harry', it wouldn't convey how I feel.
With Love,
Severus.
PS. Yes Harry, I know I sounded like a Hufflepuff First Year, okay? I'm extremely off put by how it feels to think that I could sound that way but... It's the truth.
~*~
Dear Severus,
Happy Valentines day. I know you are probably squirming in your chair while drinking your whiskey and preparing yourself for a long letter filled with such things like: 'I love you's', and 'I miss you's' and other such lovey dovey nonsense, but (while it is true), I promise this letter is not consisted of those three words. Not at the beginning any way.
I also thought that perhaps it would be an interesting idea for me to write to you because I thought it might be like the older days, when we used to correspond solely through these letters. I still have all of mine, as you know. I sometimes take them out and reread them from time to time when I am bored and have no homework to do.
I think my favorite part was the opening part where we said, 'Dear _'. It was always so imaginative, I can't help but laugh to myself now when I read them, I remember sitting for, maybe ten minutes, until I finally came up with a name that I deemed good enough to use. It always had to top the last one you called me, you see.
I am currently hiding in the Room of Requirement because, as I am sure you can guess, the entirety of Hogwarts is covered in pink and red hearts. They make me think of you, and how much I know you would hate them. I do wish you could be here, you hexing them would be an interesting (not to mention sexy) sight.
Though, forgetting the decorations that I am sure the last Headmaster chose, I do wish you could be here, greatly. I miss you very much, and seeing all of these other couples does make my heart clench. I know it is a Thursday, and while I can not sneak out today, tomorrow after classes McGonagall gave me permission to sneak away for the weekend. She said that I have to be back by noon Sunday.
Still though, I know it is going to feel like forever to get through today and tomorrow. Why is it that when I want time to go faster it slows down (when I am without you), and when I want it to go slower it speeds up (when I am with you)?
I suppose a time turner could be used... But as Hermione and I kind of abused the last one, I don't think anyone is going to be wanting to give us one anytime soon. Even if when we had one we did great with it...
Anyway, back to you. Even knowing you and I will be alone together soon I wish for it to be now that we can be together. I am always thinking of you, you know. Much as I hate to inflate that Slytherin ego of yours, it's true. Hermione has to hit me over the head in class sometimes to make me pay attention. I daresay the teachers who know about us find it highly amusing.
As I sit here writing to you, I can't help but keep thinking that I wish you could be with me. I know I have said it so many times, but it is true. I wish you could be here to snog me until I am so out of breath I am panting when you pull away. I wish you could be here to give me hickeys all over my neck that wold make the others stare at me tomorrow morning. I wish you could be here to pound me into the mattress that the Room has graciously provided me with so that I can't walk properly tomorrow. I wish you were here to tell me that you love me.
There really is nothing for it though, I suppose. I will just be forced to make myself happy in this large fluffy bed until you and I can be together over the weekend. Sorry I didn't warn you not to read that unless you are alone, but, well, I wasn't really planning to write it. You know us Gryffindors, we just get an idea and go with it.
Now comes the really squirmy part that if anyone else read it, they would probably blush, but you don't blush so you won't. I love you. I love you, love you, love you. I love you more than anything else in the world and sometimes the love consumes me so much I could just shout it at the top of my lungs from the tallest tower in the world.
I love you so much everything else pales in comparison, what I once said I loved I can now only say that I like because all of my love is going to you. And that makes me so happy that someone not in love like I am just couldn't understand, because I finally have someone to give all of my love and it really makes me feel great.
So yes, I love love love love you. So much you couldn't imagine.
Love,
Your Harry
PS. Forever
~*~
Roughly 5 months later...
July 31st
Dear My Love,
I know this isn't really all that conventional. But neither of us have ever been a fan of the rules, have we? I thought that perhaps this would be the best way to do this, because this was how we first got together. When you first sent me that letter, what? A year ago? I think it was roughly that much time.
Over the past year our relationship has not only grown into a friendship, but into a romance as well, something I don't think either of us ever thought was going to happen. We have been through our ups and downs, we had our arguments like all couples and still we have persevered through it.
During the past year we have done many other things, while not together as well: you finished school, I opened my Apothecary, you got your mastery in Defense, you were offered to work at Hogwarts, your friends Weasley and Granger got married, Longbottom grew a back bone.
So many things have happened that, at one point, I never thought could happen (Longbottom and our relationship), or something I never thought I would care about happening (the new Weasley couple). And yet, I do care, and I care because of you.
For all of this, I thank you greatly Harry. You changed my life and so many others for the better, and most of the time I don't think you realize or even mean to do it. It's just the kind of person you are and I am so happy that you chose to be with me, and that you love me over every one else. I don't think there could be anything else that has or ever will mean so much to me.
And so I get to the point of this letter. I realize I have not wished you Happy Birthday in this letter yet, and the reason is because I am only just now getting to the gift. So first, let me say (or write) it Harry; Happy Birthday. I hope you get absolutely everything you want. And I am sorry to have not gotten you much in the way of material gifts, but what I did get is something I think you will love.
What I got you was a question, though I suppose the question was always there; waiting to be asked. So really for your birthday I got you my courage. Here it goes:
Will you marry me?
Love,
Severus.
PS: The ring is in the pouch that no doubt fell out of the envelope when you opened it.
And there you have it folks. That is the end.
Of course Harry said yes!