019 :::: the other letter

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AND SO YOU ran.

You didn't get very far.

Inside the safety of your room, which was really only down the hall, you slammed the door shut and leaned your back against it, breathing heavily. Boy, were you out of shape, you could barely make it down the hall without absolutely collapsing. But that wasn't the point.

Your chest heaved with each breath. You took big, greedy gulps of air but that didn't seem to be enough to sustain you. You rested your head against the door. Little did you know James was doing the same, his hand lingering over the door knob with his forehead pressed gently against the door, praying for a sign, anything to tell him what was the right thing to do. Just as he let go of the door nob, you slid down the door into a sitting position, burying your head into your hands. Ugh, I am such a fuck-up, no matter what James says. James had left the door and you didn't even know he was there in the first place.

You peeked out from in between your hands, noticing something underneath the bed that you hadn't seen before. You kneeled to see directly underneath, grabbing all that you could see and pulling it out from its hiding spot.

The first thing you noticed was one of your bras. It must've gotten under there at some point during your stay, and actually, after that movie night, you had thought you were missing something when you looked in your underwear drawer. You tossed it carelessly into the general direction of your wardrobe, not even bothering when it slid off the table and landed right back on the floor.

Then you saw a little package wrapped in newspaper. Your curiosity getting the best of you, you tore it open, to find a necklace. It was gorgeous, and looked super expensive. Since there was a reason you weren't allowed in nice places let alone with nice things, you assumed it wasn't yours and popped it back into it's packaging, however it slid out again and you caught it just in time, gently placing it on top of your dresser without looking at the locket— you had already opened someone's present, may as well not know whose so you didn't feel any worse. Someone had probably just been looking for a spot to hide their gifts, not realizing that this room was in use.

The next thing stumped you. There was a letter, sealed and written to you in a neater version of the handwriting of... you couldn't place your finger on who. Since this was actually yours, you allowed yourself to open it.

Dear Y/N,

The first line was scratched out, rewritten, scratched out, and rewritten once again, a bit of a massive blob of ink.

I know exactly why I'm writing this. I'm just— as you can see above— struggling to find out how.

I believe I've heard Lily call you one before, but once again you must be reminded that you are a hopeless romantic. To be fair, I can be one too, but at least I can tell when someone's interested in me unlike you who has literally caused one of them to have a mental break down (exhibit a, Frank Longbottom, fourth year). So I decided to write this to try to give you a gentle push in the right direction.

There was even more scratching out this time, taking up almost a quarter of the page.

As in I am madly in love with you and writing this just makes it all too real.

I know. Way to drop a bomb. But it's true. And I can't get over it.

I want you in my life. Correction: I NEED you in my life. Every time that we're apart pains me, and I don't want to sound awfully poetic or anything, but when I'm with you I feel alive, and like I can just be myself. Not the "popular boy," not the quidditch team captain, not even the guy you wrote a love letter to— just myself. And I love that. And I love you.

Ugh, it's very cheesy and cringey and corny and all those other c words, but it's also super true. I am in love with you. And I love everything about you. All I hope is that you do too.

With lots and lots and lots of love,

James Potter.

PS: I (still) have your quill. It reminds me of you. Don't expect it back.

Your heart thumped. No way. No way. No fucking way. A smile spread across your face. So it was confirmed. James did like you back. You did a little happy dance.

You were full on partying when Severus opened your door without even asking, an eyebrow cocked up.

"Severus!" You stopped dancing out of embarrassment. "What if I was changing or something?"

Severus ignored your question. "I can hear you from downstairs. I'm guessing it went down well?"

You were momentarily shocked by the fact that he remembered. Then by the fact that he had mentioned it, let alone seemed to sort of... care.

You wiped the shock from your face. "Oh. That. That was shit. But I now know the answer!"

"What is it?" He asked in a way that made it sound like he wasn't interested but wanted to know the answer as well.

"Yes!" You positively squealed and, in your excitement, embraced him in a hug. He was too surprised— or maybe introverted— to hug back, and you let go as quickly as you had hugged him. "Now all I have to do is try to fix the mess I made and tell him how I feel."

Severus let out a snort as he left the room with a sarcastic smile across his face. "Good luck with that."

"Are you mocking me?"

"What do you think?"

"Severus!"

He laughed, and it actually sounded somewhat genuine. However his laugh soon faded away.

"I almost forgot to say, I'm leaving today. Just thought I'd let you know."

He tried to leave but you stopped him. "Wait? What? Why?"

"It's nothing, one of my friends is near here and said that I could come with him on the trip back to his house. Not like you care—"

"I do! I think me and you could be good friends, Severus."

"Uhm... yeah... no. A Slytherin and a Gryffindor? Please. Anyways, since you're pretty much the only one here who I can stand, I just wanted to say... thanks, I guess." It looked as if it pained him to thank you, which made you laugh.

"No problem. Have a Merry Christmas, then."

Severus was almost out the door when he turned around. "You, too."

Then he was gone. Huh. Some people.

But you had more important things to do than this. You were going to tell James how you felt, and you were going to do it right.

But being a major procrastinator, you left this until Christmas— tomorrow. You'd plan tonight. Plus, you needed time to recover from your recent run-ins.

You were about to get ready for an early night when you spotted the other letter. Huh. The fact that it wasn't from you made it feel weird, and the fact that it was for you even weirder. Guess the world is a small place.

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