A/N & Disclaimer: Poeme is a perfume from Lancome. Harry Potter is written by Rowling. This is rated M for a reason, and I would appreciate if you didn't read this if you are impressionable. Please do not take this literally. This is meant to be dramatic, and it is not at all a representation of reality. This is about a woman who is confused about the boundaries between reality and fantasy. Again, respect the rating please.
Poeme'd Love Letter by Krirobe
Twenty hours later I finished reading the seventh book. I was insatiable. My eyes gorged on Him and His world as they sped without braking to the edge of the page and back. The author no longer existed. It was solely He, I, and the go-between, Harry. Harry! How I longed for Harry to transform into nothing more than breath!
I decided then to write a letter to Severus. It was going to be perfect. I prepared by fasting and dressing all in black, mourning for our farewells the last page communicated through a whisper when I turned it. The last glimpse I had into His world through the dirty glass of Harry's eyes: a blank stretch of cream.
Harry's formation of thought was confined to genre, and thus I was confined to a limited view of Him. It must be unbearable to be locked forever inside a child's perception, professor or villain or hero. I will never be able to comprehend the binds and constraints put on Severus. So masterly and dominating… the humiliation of living eternally within the perspective of a "lackwit" his ultimate demise. When the Dark Mark swallowed you as it did all you betrayed, I did not cry. You were more than a body to me.
I took out a piece of expensive stationery, memento I saved for our anniversary. Ten years I've been married. I wrote—then I carefully folded and enveloped it. I wrote my address in the corner. I wrote Severus Snape and Spinners End in the center. The rest was that blank cream. Where does this go? He is not a part of my world, being purely cellular.
I tore the envelope open and unfolded the letter. I sprayed perfume Poeme on the corporeal letter and lit it on fire. And then myself.