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One Last Letter | ||||
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Category: Pre-OotP Characters:Lily Potter Genres: Fluff Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG Reviews: 5 Summary: Lily Evans, soon to be Potter, writes one last letter to her love before she becomes his wife. Hitcount: Story Total: 3665 |
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Lily Evans sat sitting in the study of her apartment at the cluttered oak desk that she’d had since she started Hogwarts nine years before. She was to be married the next day to James Potter. Yes, the same Potter that had been infatuated with her to the point where it had annoyed her enough that she regularly hexed him just to get him to shut up. She now smiled at the thought of him as she took out a bottle of scarlet ink, an eagle feather quill, and a roll of clean white parchment. She looked out the window at the night sky and began her last letter to James before she becoming his bride. Dearest James, Tomorrow is our wedding day. I can hardly believe it, can you? You chased me endlessly at school for all those years. Do you remember? Of course you do. How could you not when I hexed you so many times? Even now you still have the faint line of a scar on your right cheek from fifth year. You had been staring at me for the balance of the day and it had been annoying me to no end. I finally just punched you and missed my target of your nose. I still have that ring I wore that day, you know. I keep it in the same box I am going to put this letter into when I finish writing it. But even though I was so cruel to you, you evidently saw reason to keep after me. And it took until seventh year, but I warmed up to you enough to allow you to take me to Hogsmeade for a weekend. And tomorrow I shall officially and by all terms legally be yours at last. You tried so hard for so long, but finally won. And I couldn't be happier. I love you more than I ever thought imaginable, and I have you to thank for never giving up on me. I don't know where I would be today without you by my side. I am not writing this to give it to you tomorrow, the next day, or even the next. Or even on our anniversary. This is for some random point in the future, if you ever begin to wonder why you loved me in the first place. Then I will give you this letter. These words, this parchment, may never see the light of day again. I may never read these words again, and you may not either. I may grow old and forget I have even written these words. This may get misplaced, or may simply blow away in the wind. The box this will be in might burn up in a fire or just vanish into history. If you ever read this letter, it may do no good at all. I may have simply aged too much for your taste, and if that is the case, you may move on. James, I wish to dance with you one last time, under the moonlit sky. I wish to dance with you, without a care in the world. I want one last dance as James Potter and Lily Evans. I want that, yet I want something else too. I want to have children with you. To grow old and gray. I want to be with you until the end of time. To never leave your side. I can remember the day you first called me Lily. Do you? That was the day you found the missing piece in the puzzle of my heart. That was the day you called me Lily. That was the day that you melted my heart once and for all. Gone was the formal ‘Evans’ that you had always used when you addressed me. You greeted me like you did your friends. Peter, Remus, Sirius. And then Lily. I would have called you James instead of Potter, but it simply wasn’t proper for a girl to do that when the boy wasn’t doing the same. Did you notice that once you called me Lily the first time, I didn’t call you Potter more than once afterwards? Know this now, my darling, as you read this letter, yellow and aged, by some fireplace in a time many years away: I shall love you forever, no matter how many or how few times I have told or shown you. Words such as these have been shut away, and my quill has long since ceased to scratch on miles and miles of parchment, such as it does now. When I grow old, and our children have children, please do not leave me. When a flower comes out of its prime, is it not still a flower? Is a wilted rose not still a rose? I shall always be your lily. Your ‘fragile, darling’ Lily as you have taken to calling me. As long as you love me, I shall love you, James. Remember that always. Love, Lily Lily folded the parchment neatly, slipping it into an envelope. She walked barefooted over to the closet, where she crouched down to her knees. Taking out a box, she sat on the floor, her legs crossed. She lifted the lid off the box and was greeted by the waving photos she had stashed in here. They were of her and James at Hogwarts. In one, Sirius had pranked James right before the photo was taken, and the James in the photo would be eternally unaware that his hair was flashing a bright neon pink. With a small smile, Lily put the letter into the box at the bottom. Placing a photo of her and James spinning in front of a fountain on Hogsmeade on top of it, she replaced the other photos and mementos onto them. Stashing the box into the back of her closet, she stood, closing the door of the closet. She blew out the candle and slipped into bed. Her last thought before drifting off to sleep was, 'I hope he never reads that letter.' Sadly, he never even had the chance to read it. Or is it fortunately? You decide. |
| Reviews 5 |
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