Disclaimer: The writing's mine, the characters aren't.
A/N: The challenge for this ficlet was "Correspondence: Whether writing letters between friends over the summer holidays, making a complaint to the Daily Prophet about Rita Skeeter's most recent scandalous report, or sending a letter home from Hogwarts for bad behaviour - anything goes! "
Not always do letters bring good news. Often, they didn't. They could tell people that someone close to them had died. They could ruin people. They could ask them thousands of questions. Questions that no one had dared to ask.
Most letters were written on paper. White, lined, chequered. Just paper. Well, sometimes it wasn't. Sometimes it was on a napkin or – like in this case and any other witch's case – on parchment. But at the end of the day it was still a letter.
There are different kinds of letters. Bills or dunning letters – a most prominent missive in the Muggle world! – belonged to their own category, because, really, who liked to get letters of that kind? Then there were the formal letters, most of the time those were related to business. Usually you could only draw job-related information from those letters. But there are also personal letters. Letters that I write to you. Letters that sometimes don't even arrive by mail. Letters which perhaps will only be found when they want to be.
The last letter that Hannah Abbott wrote to the love of her life had been untraceable for almost a year. Ten years that 60-year-old Susan Bones had spent alone. A long year living with the fact that she'd never see her wife again.
But now she held this one piece of parchment in her hands, the one thing she had desperately been looking for. She was afraid to open the carefully sealed letter to finally find out the truth. Maybe she would never find out the truth about her friend, her lover, her confidante. But she had to read this letter, had to read it for Neville – Hannah's best friend – if not for herself.
He had come to her estate every day since Hannah had died, sometimes just to see if everything was okay, sometimes to look for the letter and sometimes just to console Susan.
Susan remembered vividly how she and Neville – who was really a part of the family and not just a friend – had spoken with the Gringotts goblins, how they had come to know Hannah's will. Neither of them had known that Hannah had renewed her will shortly before her death. And now, so suddenly, the letter was in her hands. They had looked for it everywhere, they had known that it existed. But they were unable to find it. Until now.
Her hand were shaking as she turned the letter several times. She was afraid, afraid of what Hannah might have wanted to say to her. And she was afraid of the loneliness that would last for many years.
Dear Susan.
Susan sighed. It was like a dream. Not a good one, but not a bad one either. Simply a dream, one that was forgotten the instant you woke up.
When you read this letter, I won't be with you anymore. It has probably been a long time when you find it. Perhaps you have already forgotten me.
A small smile graced Susan's lips but vanished almost immediately. Even after her death Hannah still used the same methods she had used on her when they had been young teenagers. Susan tentatively read on.
No matter how much time might've passed, it would've been too early to find this letter before now. I myself don't know how much time has passed, my love. I enchanted the letter to come to you when the time was right and I assume it is. I wished nothing more than for you to read it because there are a great many things I never told you. Things that may have been forgotten.
With a groan Susan put the letter aside. For a moment she wondered whether or not Hannah's spirit was sitting next to her. It was strange to sit here after all these months with this letter in her hand. It kind of felt like Hannah was right next to her even though she wasn't. Instead of continuing with the letter she thought about how she and Hannah had gotten together. It hadn't been at Hogwarts, unlike many of their friends thought. No, it had been just a while later at the Healer school they both attended.
Again an exhausting week was what was ahead of her. It was Monday. Susan hated Mondays. It was always a Monday that brought up her temper. If Mondays were extinct, she wouldn't be so miffed throughout the rest of the week. But no, Mondays existed and it was on Mondays that she had the pleasure of continuing to fight her running battle with her 'favourite' professor.
It was just a matter of time which usually settled between 15 and 37 minutes until the good wizard would start an argument with her. Was it her fault that some people just weren't best friends with boring literature? And it wasn't Susan who fell asleep, either! It was Andrew! But since she was friends with Andrew that obviously meant she'd fall asleep as well. She was quite interested in the professor's lecture, thank you very much, but she could do well without his constant fighting with her.
Another sigh escaped her lips as she pondered the old times. She'd love to be young once again and experience those damned Mondays.
What did we forget in all these years? Now that it is too late I remember. And I don't want to keep it from you. Susan, we forgot what it meant to live.
And then there was that one girl in her class who annoyed her greatly. It was strange because she was sure she recognised the voice from somewhere but she couldn't put her finger on it. It wasn't so much the things she said – although the know-it-all attitude quite reminded her of Hermione and she had to admit that it was a bit exasperating – but the fact that Susan couldn't figure out who she was.
We could've had so much more, my love. We could've gotten married and adopted children (or asked Neville to help), if only we had lived by our own standards. We should've been a real family, not just a secret one. We forgot what it meant to love and instead hid behind the walls of your home like runaway teenagers.
Susan shook her head. No, they hadn't forgotten to love. They hadn't loved the way they should have but they had loved. Carefully she straightened the parchment and continued.
To preserve the feelings and reputation of our respective families we put aside our feelings. We never showed them that there was more to love than the continuation of family lines. We shouldn't have let them get in our way. We should've told them that we belonged together. I would've accepted the disownment if it had meant that I could be with you completely.
She put her head in her hands. She hadn't anticipated that Hannah would think like that. Susan had always agreed with Hannah, had thought that her decisions would be the right ones. And now doubt was clouding her mind. Oh, she didn't doubt herself or Hannah or even their love, but she did doubt their view of the world and their families. Of course, in hindsight there was nothing she could do, but they shouldn't have let themselves be stopped by assumptions that may or may not have been true.
But I never truly showed my love to you, did I? I never openly told anyone that you were the love of my life. Instead, I hid you and let my family believe that I was single and on the look for the right wizard.
Susan had to think about one instance in which Hannah had barricaded herself in the bedroom for two weeks. All that simply because her family had set her up with a respectable young wizard and she had pretty much snubbed him to the point where he cut all his ties to her family. She hadn't been able to forgive herself because not only had she hurt her family but also Susan by agreeing to see him.
I've been ill for a while, my love. I never told you because I didn't think you deserved the pain of knowing that I would die added to the pain you would feel when my actual demise came along. I am very sorry, my love. I am sorry that I didn't seize all the opportunities that fate handed us and I am sorry that I could never proudly announce you to be my wife.
Susan, promise me to not make the same mistakes. Tell your family, tell your friends. Tell them about us.
With love,
Hannah
Tears welled up in Susan's eyes the second she read Hannah's name on the parchment in her hands. Slowly she raised her head to the sky. "I promise," she whispered. "I won't ever forget you. Never." She couldn't quite grasp why Hannah had left this planet the way she had. Ten years had passed by and she couldn't understand it. Hannah had been wrong. She had made a much bigger mistake. She had left her, Susan, and her family without telling them. And still Susan loved her so much that it hurt and she couldn't help but smile fondly thinking about what they had missed out on. She had to agree with one thing; they should've told their families. They wouldn't have disowned them, they would have embraced them and loved them all the same. She knew that now, knew it since the day Hannah's parents had approached her and told her that Susan was a member of their family, married to Hannah or not.
At least lecture on Mondays also meant that she had to get up early and that gave her high chances of a good breakfast. The only good thing on a Monday was the breakfast and nothing could take that away from her. She entered the Food Hall, as fellow students had dubbed it, and inhaled the smell of fresh food. She loved the serenity that surrounded breakfast on Monday.
Automatically her legs moved towards the food. It was like a ritual that she went through every Monday. She loved her breakfast. You could say a great many things about Hufflepuffs, but the one thing they all appreciated was food. There was a reason as to why that House's entrance in Hogwarts was close to the kitchen.
Lost in thought she followed her usual ways but before she could even reach her usual spot she was interrupted in her thoughts and quite rudely knocked down. Great.
Shocked she stared at her falling tray and then at the person who had run into her. Of course, the girl she just couldn't remember.
"Can't you be careful?" Her look was anything but happy. She didn't like her Monday breakfast to be ruined.
The other girl looked at her speechlessly. Susan was about to snap at her again when she finally opened her mouth.
"No need to be so rude, Susan."
"What? How do you know my- Hannah?"
The other girl smiled at her and nodded. "Guess you didn't notice it was me, what with my new hair and all. We should've owled more after school," she babbled and almost jumped with happiness.
"Guess we should have. Well, let's talk while you make up for my ruined breakfast."
"Guess a Puff is never happy without food, huh?"
"You guessed right."
