Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any profit from the writing of this fanfiction. No copyright infringement is intended.
This is just a little something that I wrote in order to try to get back into the swing of writing again. No real point, but I do kind of feel that some of the points Harry brings up can apply to real life as well.
Letter to His 12 Year Old Self
Harry, late after work at the Department of Mysteries, stood in the darkness that enveloped his office. Only the light from a torch charmed to hover over his head illuminated his work. He stood over his desk, fiddling with what could be considered an illegally-stolen-and-tampered-with time turner, safe in the knowledge that he was alone in the ministry. He stayed after hours, working so late, so often, that the guards had stopped caring about leaving him alone in the Department of Mysteries in favor of going home early. They had families who were waiting for them to return home, unlike him, and it wasn't like Harry couldn't take care of himself.
He penned the letter still standing up, though it would make his writing messier. He didn't take pains to make it exactly the same, because he knew that it would turn out perfectly anyway, as that was the way these kinds of things worked. He knew the words of the letter by heart. He had learned them by heart many years ago, and it was them that had led him to where he was now.
Harry magically sealed the letter, and tied it to the time-turner, which was set to go off in two minutes. The two minute wait was the second-longest he had ever lived through. The first longest two-minute wait being that before the final battle.
ooooooooooooooo
Middle of December, 1992
Harry rushed upstairs after breakfast to retrieve his wand from the dormitory. Even after one whole school-year and part of another, he still wasn't used to carrying the darn thing around with him. He entered the dorm, and after some rummaging, found it under a book in the drawer in his bedside table. He was just turning to leave when an oddly shaped gadget and a letter on his pillow caught his attention. He couldn't be sure whether it had just appeared, or whether it had been there the entire time and it was the light glinting off of it that had caught his attention.
The contraption was a strange gold color, with what looked to be three old egg-timers in the middle and lots of wires coming off of it. He had no clue what it was, and had learned at a young age to not touch things he wasn't sure about (now he knew why they called them hot plates!). But the letter, on the other hand, he did recognize.
He really hoped that it wasn't another hate letter from a fellow student, as the fear and speculation about him being the Heir of Slytherin was reaching a high-point, and some people had taken the fear a step farther by sending anonymous hate notes to him. Luckily, it wasn't charmed to be hurtful to him, though he wasn't quite cynical enough at age 12 for that type of thought to even enter his mind and thus he grabbed it without thinking.
He reached to stuff it into his bag, because if it really was another hate letter, he didn't want to read it in the morning and thus ruin his day, but something told him to read it right there, when he was alone. His heart beat just a little faster, though he didn't know why, as he broke the seal and opened the letter. It read:
Dear me,
I think— actually, I know that you will not believe this is real at first, but remember that magic can do amazing things. I am writing you from the future to give you—me— the same guidance that helped me so much growing up. If you do not believe me, then here is some proof. It is one thing that you have never, nor will ever, tell anyone about.
The time that you first realized that you really were worthless and invisible to everyone and not just your Aunt, Uncle and Cousin, was when you were five and doing laundry and the bleach splashed back up and into your eyes and though you rinsed your eyes out, they were still red and burning for two weeks. And the Dursleys didn't bring you to the hospital, but then again no one at school, not even the teachers, said or did anything when you went to school the next day with red and puffy eyes and newly poor eyesight due to your damaged eyes (not to mention the bleach stain on the front of your shirt because you hadn't been allowed to change). It took two months for Miss Marley to fish a pair of glasses from the lost-and-found bin in the Health Office and give them to you, even though they were the wrong prescription. I know that that will convince you, as it convinced me twenty years ago.
That being said, Harry, I have some advice for you. Do not worry if you are not 'cool,' or if some people only love you for your scar. Some day you will come into yourself.
Do not stand in front of the mirror in the Gryffindor bathroom trying to shorten your eyelashes with a poorly researched spell because you hate how girly your long eyelashes are. Also, all 12 year old boys are skinny and gangly and have big ears and big teeth. And in 20 years, when you look younger than all your co-workers, you will be glad that you were a late bloomer.
Do not write that letter to that cute boy in Ravenclaw, Andre, with a love letter professing your undying affection. He will not reply. He will tell you he hasn't read it. His friends will make fun of you behind your back.
Realize this one thing: the cool kids will not give you the confidence or reassurance that you seek. They cannot give what they don't have in the first place. They are all faking it. This includes Draco Malfoy.
Remember this: you have already gone through so much more than many of these people will experience, even into their adulthood. It is something that you should be proud of because it sets you apart. Your peers will never accept you because they will not be able to understand you.
As you grow, remember your own self-worth. You are worth it. The Dursleys were wrong. Some day, you will be able to make guys work for you, and these awkward times will seem like a horrible dream.
Just because you have experienced a lot does not mean that you are at all an adult.
Hang out with Neville, that tall, chubby boy. He has the heart to help you. He will be like a brother to you. But be aware that Ron will be a Hogwarts dropout with babies and working at Honeyduke's by the time he is 20.
Do not dress Dudley's castoffs. People will make fun of you loudly behind your back. Do not dress flashily, either, as they will still make fun of you behind your back. Dress instead in jeans and a t-shirt. Change your robes periodically. If people can't see that you really have changed your shirt underneath your robes, they'll assume you haven't.
Fifth year will pass, and you will be stronger for it.
Laugh. Have a free spirit. Don't be afraid to have fun. Anybody else that has the confidence to have fun began by faking it.
Be aware that some day, this awkwardness will fall away and you will grow up into a handsome, confident man. And it will all be worth it.
HP
Harry shakily let his hand holding the letter fall. He felt a thousand emotions churning inside of himself. Happiness, disbelief, sadness, anxiousness, and more. They built up, rioting inside of him till he felt as if he were going to explode. Or cry. He blinked his tears away, perhaps a little angrily at himself for allowing the tears to well up. But between the Heir of Slytherin thing, the Parseltongue thing, and the whole going-from-savior-to-pariah thing, he had been having a supremely bad year. People that had been friendly with him before were not running the other way when he saw them, or whispering about him, and it was so hard to go back to the way things were before Hogwarts after last year. He had been just about at the breaking point again, and this letter had been just what he needed. Then again, if it really was from his future self (and he really was inclined to believe it, as he really would never tell that story about why he really wore glasses to anyone, ever), his future self would know when he needed the encouragement the most.
He read over it again, though he had read over each line about three times as he was reading the letter. He felt heartened and saddened at the same time. It was nice to know that things would turn out alright, but it was depressing to know that things wouldn't be alright right away.
Deciding to be positive, Harry pushed the negative feelings away and took a deep breath. He was already late, so what was being a little later? He hastily changed his robe; his clothes were a lost cause until he could find a way to find better fitting ones anyway. He stuffed the letter into a pocket, loathe as he was to be parted from it for too long, and ran to the bathroom to wash his face— as he hadn't been caring so much about those things lately— before sprinting off to Charms. Starting today, things would be different.
Okay, so no real point, but please review anyway!
Thanks
Boom
