Archive of Our Own

Hello? Is anyone there?

YES.

Finally.

Finally? What is this? Some sort of enchanted journal?

Exactly right. I’ve misplaced it and now I’m trying to figure out who found it.

Me.

Very astute. I need it back. 

Why? It’s blank. There’s nothing inside but our conversation.

Hello? Did you change your mind?

No. I’d like it back. And the journal isn’t blank. It’s enchanted, like you said.

Enchanted to write notes back and forth with another journal?

No, just a piece of parchment on my end. It’s a new charm. I needed to find my journal and now I have. It’s also got another spell on it, one that keeps everything I write in there safe. It vanishes after I write it.

Probably not the smartest thing you could have said. Now I want to know more.

I’ve told you everything there is to know. How about you pick a spot to leave the journal and tell me where it is? 

In exchange for what?

Your sense of morality, for one. You’ve found something I’ve misplaced. The right thing to do would be to return it to its owner.

And who would that be?

Are you serious?

Seriously intrigued. You’ve managed to enchant a journal to talk with you and then you tell me it also keeps your secrets. That’s advanced magic and I want to know who’s responsible for this level of sorcery.

Nothing to say? All right, then. I’ll just hold onto your journal, and when you’re ready to talk, let me know. 

*****

All right. Name your terms.

That’s more like it. I want to know more.

About the journal? I’ve already told you all there is to know. 

About you. 

This seems unnecessary.

I’ll give you that. But it’s also fun.

Secret pen pals? Blackmail? Holding someone’s personal property hostage for no apparent reason?

Yes. Everything you said.

I’m pretty sure you’re not planning on giving me my journal back. Ever.

Don’t be pessimistic. What’s it going to hurt to get to know me? What’s it going to hurt to let me get to know you? What else have we got to do?

Potions homework.

Ahh. So you’re in Potions. Well, that narrows it down some. Tell me more.

Are you in Potions?

I see. A quid pro quo thing. I like it. Yes, I take Potions. So far I haven’t learned how to charm journals. Must have missed that class.

Too busy blackmailing people, I imagine.

We all have our strengths. 

So it would seem.

Do you wear glasses?

No. Why?

You talk like someone who wears glasses. Like you’re peering down over the top of them with a sigh as you try to negotiate with a child. I like it.

You’re easy to please. If I talk to you like a child some more, will you give me my journal back?

It’s possible. Tell me more.

Some of us have things to do.

Such as?

Homework, for one. 

Studious, too. Are you sure you don’t wear glasses? I’ve got a picture in my mind now and it’s really working for me.

There is no way for me to show that I'm rolling my eyes, but I am. I don’t have time for games right now.

All right. I’ll talk to you later, then. Hope you have a wonderful day.

*****

Are you done acting like a child?

Not sure yet. 

I could have guessed that’s what you’d say.

Then you’re not only a gifted wizard but quite adept at reading minds. Congratulations. 

Sounds like someone’s in a bad mood. Which makes no sense because no one stole your journal.

Touche.

So what will it be this time? You want me to promise you my firstborn or give you all my savings?

Tempting. But unnecessary. I don’t need random children or riches.

Then what do you need?

A distraction.

There’s a Quidditch game this afternoon. Go to that. 

Maybe. Where are you right now?

Excuse me?

Just curious. Do you write to me out in the open where anyone can see you? I’m looking around right now and I don’t see any non-eyeglass-wearing advanced charm-making Hogwarts student bent studiously over a magical piece of parchment. 

I don’t see one either.

I never said I didn’t wear glasses.

You never said you did. I doubt it though.

Why?

You don’t seem the type. 

That’s hilarious. I wonder what type I do seem. To you. Please enlighten me.

Smart, but you don’t want anyone to know just how smart you are or just how much you see. You use humor to deflect. You're easy to make friends with, but not easy to stay friends with. Maybe it’s because you demand loyalty and maybe it’s because you only let a few people get really close. It makes you a little lonely, and that’s why a magical journal pen pal is intriguing to you. It’s a safe way to have a little fun without having to be serious.

Are you still there? Am I right?

Well, I did say you were adept at reading minds. I suppose that was closer to the mark than I thought it would be.

Okay, so I’ll give you an enchanted piece of parchment and you can write to me to your heart’s content. And in the meantime, you can give me back my journal.

What kind of secrets are in there?

No secrets. I was joking about that. But I still want it back.

Somehow I don’t believe you. If there weren’t important things in there, you’d just go buy another journal and work some magic on that one. 

Maybe I have an attachment to that one. Maybe it’s a family heirloom.

Maybe you’re just saying that so I’ll give you what you want.

Will you? Give me what I want?

I’m considering it. Until I decide, I guess I’ll go to the Quidditch game and keep an eye out for someone writing on a piece of parchment instead of watching the game.

*****

You’ve been quiet.

I’ve been patient.

Still holding out hope?

It’s in my nature. You don’t seem like someone who would needlessly be rude to someone they don’t even know.

How do you know I don’t know you?

The word Slytherin comes to mind.

My mouth is open right now. You think I’m in Slytherin?

I don’t know. You tell me.

I think you know I’m not.

How do you know I’m not?

Because Ravenclaw would miss you too much?

Ah. So you’ve got it all figured out.

I’m 80% sure. 

70%.

The longer I don’t say anything, the more that percentage will go down. Regardless, I’m not telling you.

What if we sit next to each other in class or at dinner and we’ll never know?

Would that be so bad?

I’m starting to think so. Knowing you in person sounds like an adventure. It makes me feel like I’m missing out on something.

That’s…a nice thing to say. I think.

When was the last time you got complimented?

When I got my last exam back? I got high marks.

Did you say to your professor, “That’s a nice thing to say. I think.”?

I’m pretty sure I didn’t say anything. I figured I’d do well. 

There’s a fine line between confidence and cockiness.

You’re telling me this from experience, right?

That would be correct. Hey, I’ve got to go. I need food!

Okay, I’ll see you. Or I won’t. And I’ll never know.

*****

I thought of 5 questions I want to ask, and if you answer them without hesitation–and honestly–I will think about returning your journal.

This feels like a trick.

Why would I do that?

Why would you keep a stranger’s blank journal?

Fair point. All right, then. I give you my word. If you answer honestly, I will give you your journal back.

I accept. Start asking.

What's your favorite color?

Are you serious? 

You ask me that a lot. Why would I joke?

Because you think it's funny? 

You got me. Learning people's favorite colors is endlessly amusing to me. Sometimes I skip class and walk around the castle all day, amusing myself by asking people their favorite colors. And when I run out of people, I search for magic journals to ask their favorite color just hoping there's some talented wizard on the other end that will answer. You know, to amuse me.

Are you finished?

I think so. Yes.

Blue.

That was easy.

Are you amused?

Endlessly. What do you want to be when you grow up?

Taller.

Try again.

Why? It's the truth. You said I had to answer honestly and I did. You can't make up new rules now.

Fine.

Next question? 

Where do you see yourself working after Hogwarts?

That's a tough question. At one point I thought the Ministry of Magic but sometimes I wonder if I might do more good writing for the Daily Prophet.

What would you write? 

Editorials maybe. Or exclusives that feature wizards and their jobs or what they do for the community. Not really sure. Only one more question.

No, still two to go.

Try again. I count four so far. That means you only have one left.

Ah. I see. No, the question about what you'd write was an addendum to the previous question.

You're making up rules again.

You're making this difficult.

I say that under my breath every single time you write to me.

Don't be sarcastic. You know you like it.

You assume a lot.

I have to. I don't know you. Which is the reason for all the questions. All right, fine. One last question. What's your Patronus?

Hello? Did that last question go through?

Yes. I saw it.

And?

And I thought we were trying to stay anonymous. That might give away my identity.

We never agreed to keep this anonymous.

Then tell me who you are. Right now.

And spoil the fun?

Not much fun anymore.

I agree. I think I'm done talking for the day.

You took the words right out of my mouth.

*****

Do you really want this to be anonymous?

What? You're talking to me now?

I thought that was obvious.

My answer is the same as yours. I thought it was obvious. It makes more sense for this to be anonymous.

Why is that? 

Does it matter?

You said I deflect but that seems a lot like what you're doing now. 

I don't need more friends, I need my journal back.

Friends? 

Yes, you've heard the word before, right? I mean, that's what you're trying to do here, isn't it? I can't imagine it's worth all the effort to annoy me.

Now you're just being mean.

*****

I'm sorry.

For what?

For being mean.

You just ignored me for three days.

I wasn't ignoring you. I was thinking.

About how mean I am?

No, just about you.

Have you come up with any conclusions?

That I was indeed being mean and you only partially deserved it. And that I might sort of just a little like talking to you. Anonymously.

I might sort of just a little like talking to you too. But I might like it more in person.

That’s…no, I don’t think so. I’m busy.

Oh? Busy doing what? Kissing your girlfriend?

I don’t have a girlfriend.

Kissing your boyfriend?

Sometimes I wonder why you even ask me questions at all if you’re just going to answer them yourself.

The distraction technique won’t work on me. Not in this circumstance. 

I’m not busy kissing anyone.

Would you like to be?

I don’t even know how to respond to you right now. 

Now, don’t take this the wrong way, but I think we might have something kind of interesting going on here.

It is interesting. You’re holding my journal hostage so I’ll talk to you. And the conversation has been stimulating, I have to admit, so you’d be right. This is interesting.

I’m sighing so loud right now, I’m surprised you can’t hear it. You know what I mean.

I take it by your lack of response that you either don’t know what I mean or you don’t know what to say. That’s cute. But it would be cuter in person.

Why? I’m truly asking this right now. Why do you want to meet in person?

Because I haven’t enjoyed talking to someone this much in a long time. Because you’re witty but clearly have a sensitive side. Because I want to see your face when you sigh and talk to me like you’re wearing glasses. Because—

Okay, that’s good enough. I get what you’re saying.

Are you blushing? Because if you are, that’s cute. But it would be cuter in person. 

Are you this persistent in real life?

What you see is what you get. Literally. I don’t like waiting for something when there’s no reason. And I’m a visual person. I can try to picture you in my mind, but if I had a little more to go on, it would help.

It would help what?

Help the fantasy. Help me know what it might feel like if I held your hand. If I ran my fingers over your knuckles. Or to see how much your lips curve when I tell you that you’re probably one of the smartest wizards I’ve ever met. Should I go on?

No, I’m getting the picture.

A pun. Funny.

It was unintentional. Thank you.

For what?

For saying I’m probably one of the smartest wizards you’ve ever met. Even though we haven’t met.

Exactly my point.

I don’t…know how I feel about meeting you in person. Now there’s too much pressure.

I take it back then. You’re just an average wizard. Now can we meet?

Nice try.

Tell me why. Make me understand why this is such a big deal.

It’s not a big deal. It’s just me. You don’t really even know me. It’s easy to picture something or someone in your mind and make it way bigger and better than it really is. Usually, real life is a disappointment.

You’re smart. And charming. You seem nice and caring. I enjoy talking to you. These are facts and are definitely already bigger and better than what I can imagine. There’s no disappointment here.

You haven’t met me yet. You might change your mind.

You said “yet”. That means there’s a chance?

I don’t know. Maybe.

Then I’ll work on being patient. And in the meantime, you should hunt down some glasses and practice talking with those on. You know, if you’re bored or not busy kissing someone else.

I’ll get right on it.

*****

It’s really nice today. Go for a walk with me.

Just tell me where to meet you. I’m ready.

I meant on paper. I’ll go one way and you go another and tell me what you see.

Okay, then. Good timing. My friends just went to lunch.

Why didn’t you go with them?

I wanted to talk to you. It’s easier when they’re not trying to see what I’m doing. They might ask me about this secret journal and I don’t want them to know about it.

I feel the same. Just for now, it’s between you and me. I had to finish something for class anyway, so no one knows where I am.

Smart. I’ve got my scarf. I’m going outside.

Me too. There’s a place I like to sit and read.

I’m assuming you don’t want me to come and sit with you.

Go to one of your favorite places at Hogwarts and tell me what you see. Then we can both be with each other.

I’ll just wander, then.

You don’t have a favorite place at Hogwarts?

The people are what make Hogwarts special for me. They’re my friends. My family. My home.

That was very poetic. 

I can be insightful.

I imagine you can be a great many things when you put your mind to it.

Was that a compliment?

Absolutely.

Thank you. I’m blushing. 

You don’t have to tell me it’s better in person. I believe you.

But you still don’t want to meet? We can walk together. I’ll show you…the lake. And trees. And a mushroom. See? It’s better when you’re with someone. Makes those mundane things more magical.

I agree. But right now we’re together as much as we can be. It feels magical to me.

Because we are literally using magic to talk. That helps.

No doubt. 

Fine. I won’t come to find you.

Are you pouting? It seems like you’re pouting.

I’m not pouting. I’m sulking. That sounds less childish.

I can picture that. Tell me more. Tell me what you see.

The hills are green and the lake is sparkling. I can see snow in patches under the trees but otherwise, the sky is the bluest I’ve ever seen it and there isn’t a cloud in sight. It feels like spring.

That sounds nice.

If you were here with me, you’d be able to see it yourself.

If you promise not to come here, I’ll tell you where I am.

I promise. 

There’s this tree that’s split right down the middle of the trunk. It got hit by lightning when my dad went to school at Hogwarts. Sometimes I come down here and sit in the space between. I read poetry or history or whatever sounds good at the time. Lately, I’ve been reading what you write to me.

I know that tree. I’ve seen it.

It’s quiet here. Just beyond the edge of the forest, but close enough I still feel surrounded. 

You’re a loner.

Maybe an introvert. I like my own time. Quiet time. Time to recharge.

I feel the same. There were always people coming and going in my house when I was a kid. It was hard to find somewhere quiet, somewhere to be still. To be me.

Do you feel like you can be you here? At Hogwarts?

I feel like I can be me with you. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt like this around anyone before. 

Not even your friends?

They accept me for who I am, and for that I’m grateful. No judgments, even though we’re all such a strangely matched group. But there always seems to be something missing.

I’m sorry.

I’m not trying to get you to feel bad for me.

You’re trying to get me to meet you. 

That part is a little true. Do you ever wonder what you miss out on with every choice you make? How different your life would look if you had just said yes or no to something you said otherwise?

You might drive yourself insane thinking like that. And if you hadn’t made those choices, would we be where we are right now? Would we be talking to each other? Probably not.

That’s a good point. Your forgetfulness was my gain. I have to say I’m supremely grateful you lost your journal.

I never thought I’d say this, but I am too. 

*****

Hi.

Aren’t you supposed to be in class right now? 

I am. We’re “studying.” I’m learning a lot. Like how to look like I’m taking notes when I’m really talking to you.

Sounds productive.

What are you doing?

I was reading. Trying to. I fell asleep.

Sorry. Why are you tired? Or are you just one of those people who fall asleep whenever they’re relaxed? Because I do that sometimes.

No. Not relaxed. Yesterday was rough and I didn't get much sleep last night.

Why didn’t you say something? You know you can talk to me whenever you need to.

It’s fine. It’s not your problem.

Got it. Sorry I bothered you.

That’s not what I meant. Really.

Hello?

Are you there?

*****

I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I was having a bad day, or week, or…I don’t know. I was tired and I shouldn’t have been writing to you because I was cranky. I just didn’t want you to think I was ignoring you. 

I understand. I’ll leave your journal underneath a bench in the courtyard.

Wait, what? You’re giving it back?

That’s what you wanted, right? The bench by the statue. You know the one with the lady holding the basket of flowers.

No.

You don’t know that statue? It’s the only one with a lady holding a basket of flowers.

I know the statue. I meant no don’t give me my journal back. I don’t want it.

You’re joking.

Fine. I do want it but not like this.

I’m being perfectly reasonable.

You are. That’s the problem. This isn’t right.

What are you talking about?

This isn’t you. You’ve spent weeks keeping my journal from me and now you’re just giving it back without getting anything in return.

Gee. Thanks. That makes me sound like a really great person.

That is NOT what I meant. 

You’re not doing a great job explaining it.

I know! Just give me a minute. I’m not ready for this.

Are you still there?

I’m giving you a minute like you asked.

Oh, okay. Good. So…I’m sorry. Like I said, I was having a bad day–a bad week, really–and I feel like I can’t talk to anyone. No, that I shouldn’t talk to anyone because my burden is for me alone. And we don’t even really know each other, which is my fault, so I felt stuck. And then I took it out on you and…now you’re mad at me.

No, I’m not.

You're frustrated.

Still wrong.

Then what is it? Tell me why you're suddenly willing to give me my journal back.

Because it's yours and if this were real life and we were friends, I'd give you your journal back.

This is real life. And we are friends, aren't we?

I suppose so. Which means I should give you your journal back.

I think…no, I know it isn't time.

What do you mean?

All right so…last night I had a dream about you.

That took a turn I didn't expect. Do tell.

I can see you preparing to flatter yourself. It was not a happy dream.

If you're trying to make me feel good about myself, you're doing a terrible job.

Wait, I wasn't finished. In my dream, you were there and you were talking with me. No name, no face, just the comfort of you knowing who I truly am and still wanting to be there with me. I was about to tell you my name and then you vanished. No reason, just gone, and I was alone. And it felt like someone had ripped my heart out.

Damn it. You're telling me this and then expecting me not to want to be there for you? Where are you? I'll come right now.

No, that's not what I was trying to do or to say. I told you that because I want you to know that this has meant something to me and if you give me my journal back it will all be over. I don't know if I can handle that.

It doesn't have to be over. And I really can be there for you.

I don't know if I'm ready for that.

Is it me you don't trust?

No, it's me. 

I don’t understand.

I’m usually really good with words.

Talking about emotions is hard.

How are you so good at it?

The whole life is short thing. I guess I’ve seen a lot and know that people can be hard and hurtful. But they can also be amazing. When you come across amazing, you don’t let being scared of talking about feelings get in the way.

I don’t know what to say.

I’m being patient.

I know you are. You really are. I’m trying. Please give me more time. I don’t want to get my journal back and never talk to you again. It means too much to me.

It means a lot to me, too. Like I said, I’m being patient.

Good. Thank you. Truly.

*****

Did you know that Dumbledore has five dress robes–that I know of–that convey completely different things?

Really? What are they?

The take-me-seriously robes.

Oh, yeah. The charcoal grey one.

Exactly. Very good. Then he has the one that says, definitely-don’t-take-me-seriously.

The sky blue one! The one with silver moons and stars all over it.

Impressive. What about the I-might-be-going-to-a-wedding-after-this robes?

Yes. Going to a wedding and planning on having a GOOD time. The deep purple one with lace on the cuffs. Fancy.

You’re really good at this game. What does the forest green one say?

We can be friends. You can trust me.

Quite right. And the burgundy one with the gold trim?

It says…You’ve just caught me before bed. I was going to smoke a pipe or write some profound poetry that I will only show to my cat.

I love it. Ah, good old Dumbledore. Say what you want about him, the man knows who he is.

I envy that.

You’re envious of Dumbledore? Hmm. Sexy.

Ha ha. I meant I envy people who know what they want. Who aren’t afraid to be who they want to be. 

Indeed. There’s a small lot of people who are truly comfortable and happy with being just the way they choose to be–or the way they were born to be.

You’d think something like that wouldn’t be so difficult. With all the horrors in the world, the one comfort in life should be not having to compromise who you are for everyone else. 

Wise words. Should we do McGonagall next?

She only has two robes. The take-me-seriously robes–

And the take-me-seriously-on-holidays robes. You’re right. Bummer.

My cheeks hurt from laughing. But I’m tired.

I’ll let you go. If you dream, dream of me. But this time I’ll be the one wearing glasses.

I haven’t tried that one yet. I always picture you without glasses.

Do you picture me without other things?

Well, now look what you did. I’m supposed to be going to sleep and you’re distracting me.

I just don’t want to be the only one with this dilemma. Goodnight.

Sleep well.

*****

It’s raining. Is it raining where you are?

At Hogwarts? You are still at Hogwarts, right?

Yes. Of course. I just wanted to make sure we weren’t sucked into some alternate universe where I fell in love but wasn’t ever allowed to meet the person I’d fallen in love with.

So…maybe I shouldn’t have said that out loud. Or wrote it to you. Whatever.

Maybe I should go before I embarrass myself. Wait, it looks like I already did.

Damn it.

Don’t be embarrassed.

You didn’t answer me. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.

You didn’t. You made me speechless. But on parchment. However you want to say that.

You could tell me you’re already seeing someone. I’d be heartbroken but I’d respect that. And give you your journal back.

I’m not already seeing someone.

You could tell me you’re not interested in seeing anyone.

That wouldn’t be true.

Okay. You could tell me you’re not interested in seeing me . That would clear up the problem fast.

That’s not true either. I’m trying this thing where I’m honest about my feelings, but you usually do it first and then shock me and I don’t know what to say.

What are you saying?

I don’t really know how to say this. I’m falling for you too. Hard.

Well. There. Now that’s out there. Is it scary?

Terrifying.

I feel better.

Wonderful. See how different we are? This makes you feel good and it terrifies me. There’s some sort of disconnect.

Opposites attract. They always say that and now I just said it so now I’m part of “they”.

Are you babbling?

Kind of.

Are you nervous?

Kind of.

Good!

What? Why is that good?

Because then it’s not just me. On a scale from 1 to 10 of how serious this is, I was thinking it was pretty high up there and you were acting like it wasn’t but now I know you’re nervous so it’s at least kind of serious to you.

It’s more than kind of serious to me. Are you babbling now?

Yes. Sorry. And I didn’t mean to imply it wasn’t important or serious to you. 

It is. 

Right. I know. It is.

Good.

Good.

Don’t go.

Go? Why would I go?

Sometimes when things get serious, you leave. And I don’t want you to.

Oh. Sorry.

No, don’t apologize. Just don’t go. I still want to talk. This… I don’t think I’ve ever told someone I loved them before. Not even my parents.

Really? That’s…wow. That makes me feel special.

You are special. It’s still raining. What do you normally do on rainy afternoons like this? If you’re not in class.

Probably homework.

Cute. So you’re kind of a nerd.

Yeah, pretty much. Maybe if I didn’t have homework, I’d play chess or–

Read. That’s what you’d do. Would you read to me?

Of course. 

I’d make sure there was a warm fire.

And I’d read until you were too relaxed to listen anymore. And because you fall asleep when you’re relaxed, you’d close your eyes and I’d keep reading to you so you’d know I didn’t leave.

I think…I’m depressed now.

What? Why?

Because this isn’t real. It’s just our story on parchment but it’s not real.

Don’t say that. It will be real one day.

You promise?

I promise.

Then I’ll just sit here and listen to the rain and pretend you’re reading to me, a story about when we meet and my hand doesn’t hurt from writing to you every day.

And I’ll just sit here and listen to the rain and pretend I’m reading to you, a story about when we meet and my heart feels whole.

I love you.

I’m trying.

*****

I think we can both agree that Slytherin cheats. They cheat, right? There’s no way they won that Quidditch match fairly.

Yes. They cheat. That’s unequivocal.

It’s really sexy when you use big words like that.

You think I’m sexy?

That’s a given. 

You usually don’t talk to me like this. Are you okay?

I’m fine. I’m great.

What happened?

Nothing happened.

Doubtful. You’re not ever this straightforward. Let’s see…you’re in a good mood because you beat your greatest nemesis at chess?

No.

Uh… Dumbledore told you that you have good hair?

Funny, but no.

McGonagall got new dress robes?

Did she?

I don’t know. I’m asking you. Is that why you’re in a good mood?

No. I’m just happy.

Happy enough to meet me outside the great hall for dinner?

I don’t know.

What? Wait…you didn’t say no. 

I know.

So let’s go! Right now.

Whoa. Wait. Hold on.

Why?

Because I need to prepare. 

I’ll be gentle.

Don’t make me laugh. This is serious.

Trust me. Out of all the people who know how serious this is, I’m one of them.

I said don’t make me laugh. I’m trying to focus.

How can I help?

Let’s talk about something else.

Tomorrow.

You want to talk about something else tomorrow?

No, I want to meet you tomorrow. In person. For real.

I don’t know.

No more waiting. You have time to prepare today. And tomorrow. We can wait until after dinner. I will help you through this. We can do it.

My stomach hurts.

Oh no. I’m sorry. Okay, forget I said anything.

No, no, no. No. I can do this.

Really? Tomorrow?

Are you still there?

I’m pretty sure I’m hyperventilating. 

That’s not good. Steady breaths are good. Take a minute.

It’s fine. I’m fine. 

Of course you are. This is a good thing. 

I’ll let you know if I agree tomorrow. After we meet.

It’s actually happening. And look at the bright side–now you finally get your journal back.

Funny. Yeah, this is good. Keep making me laugh. I feel better.

Excellent. What’s the first thing you’re going to do when we meet tomorrow?

Probably something inappropriate.

Oooh, kinky. 

No! What’s wrong with you? I meant like throw up or something.

Oh. Well, that’s gross. 

I’m hyperventilating again. Yep, it’s happening.

You’re okay. I promise.

If I stop writing to you, it’s just because I passed out. Don’t take it personally.

I won’t. I’m in too good a mood. Can I say something before you faint though?

I’m not going to faint.

Faint. Pass out. It means the same thing. So here it is: I love you.

*****

I have a lot of homework.

Please don’t tell me you’re changing your mind.

I’m not. I’m telling you this so you know why I’ve basically been ignoring you all day. Not ignoring, but not writing to you. I’m trying to get this finished.

Smart.

Don’t you have homework?

Yeah. I got some of it done. I can’t sit still.

Won’t it be better if you have all your work done?

One less thing to worry about?

Right.

But I’m not worried. I’m excited.

I forgot how strange you are. 

Still feel like you’re going to vomit? Or faint?

Homework is calming me down.

That’s adorable. 

No mocking. I’m almost finished.

I’m going to dinner. And I’m going to be patient. But after dinner, all bets are off.

All right. I’ll see you there. But I won’t know it. Now I’m nervous again.

See you soon.

*****

I’m waiting.

Waiting where?

Are we still doing this?

I’m trying to convince myself.

Take a deep breath and say yes.

What if you see me and change your mind?

Not possible.

It’s easy to be confident when you’re hiding behind parchment. 

I already know who you are.

Sure. On parchment. 

Well…that’s not entirely true.

What are you talking about?

I know who you are. In real life. Outside of our notes.

Okay, I knew that was going to shock you, but don’t stop writing to me now. 

Remember the deep breath?

I tried that. Are you sure? I don’t think you really do. No, you can’t. Are you sure?

I’m sure. 

That can’t be right. If you knew who I really was, you wouldn’t still be talking to me.

Wait. Hold on. Why do you say that?

Because of things. Because of me. Because, well…you don’t know everything about me.

I know more than enough. And I’m still here. Are you still nervous?

Yes.

You won’t be soon. I promise.

You do?

Yes.

How do you know who I am?

I saw you writing and I thought hey, maybe that’s who I’m talking to. And then I thought more and things seem to fit. It all made sense. But more than that, I recognized you. Not in person, but through our conversations. Something inside me said you were the one.

This doesn’t feel real.

I feel the same way. But it is. Let’s go.

Wait.

No more waiting.

Seriously. I have one more thing I need to do.

Vomit?

No. Not that. It’s one more thing I need to say so that no matter what happens tonight, I won’t have missed my chance.

I didn’t say it before but I have to now. 

I love you.

I love you too, Remus.

You know my name.

I told you I know who you are.

Do I know who you are?

Of course you do.

Come down to the common room.

You’re waiting for me in the common room?

I’ve been waiting for a long time. Please come.

I’m on my way.