#isn't it cool how the professors are obsessed with the past/future

[platin-amide]

parenting is tough

[sdarbvtterfly]

Two Letters: The Sent One

I can't even begin to describe how I felt when I learned that there was an international letter waiting for me. After all these years, you were probably the only one who remembered me – well, half the blame lies with me, but you did find where I am in the end, didn't you?

As for me, I'm fine. America is an amazing country. You can always find kindred spirits here. In fact, when I received your letter, I had just returned from Niagara Falls, which you don't see that big ones in London: it was as if ten million white birds were struggling to fly down, and the cool mist of water flooded in a roar. I was standing right at the edge of it, thinking that even the best Quidditch player couldn't fly over it. There are plenty of waterfalls in this country, and Yosemite's is beautiful too, just not as spectacular as this one.

I'm already a professional traveler, Blaise. And I'm planning to do a trip to Antarctica – not this year, of course. It's already August, and I have to prepare for that for at least three months. Then it is September. September, you told me your kids are starting school, I believe. My Lyla is nine years old. She's a clever girl, but unfortunately she's nothing like me, except for her serene black eyes. Her nose is a bit like my mother's, and I guess she got her slightly dark skin from her father (I'll have to include a photo for you).

Okay, let me be honest. None of us saw Lyla coming. But she's very talented, and I believe her father was probably a brilliant wizard in disguise. Does that offend you, Blaise? If it were a few years ago, that might have made me ashamed for a while, but now? I'm half a muggle now, Blaise. My wand makes me weak. I can't keep myself from remembering how many unforgivable curses shot from her tip. And my hair is mostly white – that beautiful black hair that even you weren't fastidious about. I try to blame all this on the war, but I am also guilty. It was me who screamed that "Harry Potter" in the Great Hall, and also me who chose to flee the battlefield. I chose to avoid this trial…I waited for fate to claim its price from me.

I'm going to send Lyla to Ilvermornyin the future. Hogwarts is not for her. Lyla is too obsessed with magic, like a child obsessed with toys. And magic is more than toys, isn't it? Also, I'm sorry, Blaise, it's a little hard to talk about, but it does exist. My feet are afraid to set foot on the land of Britain. Like a deserter who doesn't want the scars on his back to be seen, I am afraid to face my former friends and professors as I fled timidly while they drew their wands to defend Hogwarts. On top of that, we Slytherins – and how evil should we be portrayed? No one can forgive us, Blaise, especially me.

I am still thinking, still resentful. I sink into the memories of the past. I dreamed of Hogwarts again and again, dreaming of us walking through the old and strong corridor, of the sunlight enveloping us like the fog in the dark forest at night, of the gentle, sad eyes of the women in the portraits. How can you smell the so-called ambition in these dreams and bad memories that have passed like water? All my secret thoughts are only about another person, who alone makes me sigh with no resentment…

I miss you so much, Blaise. If one day my destiny reaches its end, the only one worthy of my smile will probably be you, old friend. I often think of our first rafting trip on the Black Lake. D, Goyle, Crabbe and I were in the same boat. You and Theo's boat was next to ours. I was thinking what an arrogant and insolent brat you were, but I didn't think you would be a faithful and reliable friend, just as I didn't realize that the moonlight that night was one of the rare times in my life pure and bright.

Your sincerely,

P.P

Included: a stilled photo