Sirius Black
Detention: The dungeons
Doesn't matter, 'cause I'm not sending this
Remus Lupin
Gryffindor Tower, presumably asleep
Once again, who cares?
Hey, Moony.
Slughorn has me doing lines again. I finished. Then I started thinking. I'm not sending this. I know I can't, I don't have the bollocks, but I'm writing my thoughts down. Why? Possibly I'm daft. Quite probably, I'm mad. Also, I've finished my lines. Slughorn won't let me go. So, I'll unload my stupid girly thoughts in a fake letter. I think my Lady Flower is in bloom.
Love isn't something consistent. It can creep up on you , slowly, steadily, until one day you realize, "Oh my god, I'm in love. When the hell did this happen?"
Or it can hit you full on, like being impacted by a hippogriff. It be heart pounding or heart stopping. It can be instantaneous or reluctant, blind or sight-consuming, reciprocated or unrequited.
At some point, we'll all fall in love. It's human nature (and hopefully Werewolf nature, too), as inevitable and vital as eating. But what do we really know about it? Words can only describe so much.
Love is something that isn't taught, but learned. There isn't an incantation for love, no potion to create true love. Its just THERE, just a feeling we get when we know that everything is right, just by looking at someone we care about.
I've learned quite a few things in the past six years. People apparently can have so much in common in beliefs and ideas, but be so different in thoughts and experiences. We can communicate through facial expressions and giggles. My entire day can by an arm around waist, a Classic Moony Professor Look, or quiet laughs in the common room.. We're awkward. We're weird. We're unpredictable.
I love awkward.
I love weird.
I love unpredictable.
I love you.
(But don''t let it get to your head, Moonshine.)
~The Self Idealized Ex-Heir To The Criminally Insane House Of Black,
Sirius Black.