Letters: Chapter One

I’m going to take another story from Past Sarah. I’ve been busy (you all know the drill–Summer Reading), so I’ve been going through some old stories. I actually had fun sharing an old fan fiction not long ago, so I thought I might share another one. Fan fiction was a good writing exercise for Past Sarah, and I had a lot of fun re-reading it. Plus, it’s a great way to connect with fellow fans. Any other Remus Lupin fans out there? He was always my favorite. (Yes this another Harry Potter story.) Anyways, this story has two-parts. I’ll post one chapter this week, and another one next week. My focus is still (obviously) on my own original fiction, but… hey, you’ve gotta have fun sometimes right? (And, if I’m being honest… I need a brain break.)

So, enjoy. (Oh, and also…. I obviously don’t own this. Thank you, JKR, for giving us characters like Remus that we couldn’t get out of our heads and inspired us to put pen to paper ourselves.)

Remus frowned at the parchment, the ink he had dabbed onto his quill dripping onto his hand; he’d never been any good at writing letters. After a moment he sighed, and placed the tip of the quill to the letter he was trying to write; after all, he had promised Mum and Dad he would write, and he most certainly wanted to. But how did he put everything he’d done this past week into words?

            Well, maybe not everything.

 Remus thought it would be a good idea not to mention how many times he’d snuck out after curfew with James and Sirius, or about the prank he’d helped them pull on that one Slytherin boy—what was his name? Saphron or something? No, that’s a spice; Seffrus? Ah well, it doesn’t matter any; it was just one harmless prank.

            Nonetheless, Remus couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. Sure he was a Slytherin, and he had called that nice Lily girl a Mudblood, but he couldn’t help but feel as though charming a bottle of bubotuber pus onto his head (but first making sure to plant a sticking charm onto his chair) in Herbology was just a little bit harsh.

            Remus frowned again; how did he get himself off topic? He’d come up here to write a letter home while Sirius, James, and Peter watched the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice, and so far all he had done was write “Dear Mum and Dad”—pathetic.

            He cleared his throat, rolled up his sleeves, and put quill parchment again, writing:

Dear Mum and Dad,

            Hello from Hogwarts, I was sorted into Gryffindor, and I share my dorm with three other boys. First, there’s James, who—

            Remus frowned. That sounded horrible; though he couldn’t help having smiled: Hello from Hogwarts; a few months ago, he never would have even dreamed he’d have written that. Remus crumpled up the parchment, and threw it into a nearby dustbin, which belched in response.

            Okay, no more goofing off. Let’s get to it so that when James and the others come back, you can—whatever it is they want to do—with them.

            Remus smiled, slightly, suddenly realizing exactly what he wanted to write. After a few moments, his hand was racing across the first parchment—and a second. He didn’t know how long he’d been writing, when he was suddenly shaken from his thoughts by Sirius’ bark-like voice. “Oi, Rem!”

            Remus jumped back slightly, spilling ink over himself. “Bloody–” he muttered, then looked up to see James, Sirius, and Peter all smiling up at him; Peter was smiling rather bemusedly, and James and Sirius’ mischievous grins reached up into their eyes.

            “You still writing?” Sirius asked, a sarcastic drawl to his voice. He raised an eyebrow and waggled it, before withdrawing his wand and pointing it directly at Remus.

            “Scourgify!”he exclaimed, and within moments, Remus’ robes were immaculate. “There, so you done writing?” he asked, his voice brimmed slightly with accusation.

            “Well, I–”

            “Well, finish up!” James exclaimed, he was practically jumping up and down, his hair scattered more helter-skelter atop his head than was normal.

            “Why?” Remus asked; he could feel his own curiosity ebbing at him, mixed with slight mischief; he was very eager to find out what had his friends so excited.

            “Just sign it and come on!”

            Remus frowned slightly, then eagerly obeyed. He’d stopped mid-sentence, but oh well, close enough.

            “Come on!”

            “What are you two on about?” he asked the pair of them, as Peter trailed behind Remus.

            James whipped around, his hazel eyes sparkling, “You’ll never guess what we found behind the statue of that humpbacked, one-eyed witch! Hurry up!”

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