Author's Note: When I was in school all I wanted was a classroom pen-pal, I swear. Written for: Task #1, Calligraphy: Write a penpal!AU.
It started out as little scratches on the desk, small notes that nobody took too seriously. Pansy thought that the notes were a way to pass the time; after all, history was her least favorite subject. She was only taking it to propel her career further. She knew how important her degree was for politics.
It was on Valentine's Day that she was bored enough to pen an actual note. She knew that she was just lucky that there were only ever two classes in that one stuffed up room. She was considering that deeply when she wrote down the short note, tucking it under the heel of the desk.
To Whom it May Concern,
I, quite frankly, am bored, and I have decided to take our little correspondence to the next level. History is a rather boring class. It is, however, far more interesting than a Beginning Latin class. What on earth were you thinking?
What even is your major that you would take the class? It must be a terrible major. Latin, of all things! You must be a medical student.
What's your name, even? I only know your proclivity for bad jokes and ridiculous drawings.
- Pansy
She hadn't expected a return. She wasn't sure what she was even thinking as she opened up the little paper the next morning. But there it was, scribbles on the other side of her carefully crafted note. The scrawl was difficult to read, and she almost grinned. He had to be a medical student. Nobody else would have such terrible writing.
If he was, that would place him as a few years older, and that was exciting. An older man, one she could just see... Scruffy and glorious, all sleepy grins and nimble fingers. Oh, she was going to plan on a meeting.
Pansy -
It was a nice surprise to see an actual, physical note this afternoon, though I can honestly say that it was rather strange. What was so wrong with our doodles?
No, I'm not a medical student. Latin was just the luck of the draw (and the only language still open). I'm assuming you're a poli-sci major?
- Harry
She nearly sighed; Harry was such a common name. She knew too many Harrys already. At least he could find her on her name alone. Pansy was original. Unique.
She really couldn't do anything with such a silly name like Harry. It would take too long to work through. She would exhaust all of her connections! And, even worse, she would have to bribe the cheerleaders again. They really were more difficult about that the second and third time that you had to ask.
Harry -
Honestly, you're giving me nothing to go off of! Such an average name, such bland lines of greeting. It's like you don't even want to speak to me! I will, of course, forget such crude words so that I may move on with my life. After all, it is either my boredom or these notes.
I am, in fact, a political science major. And here I offer my second guess: Business?
- Pansy
Just as she had expected, the next note was returned in the same location. It seemed a little worse for the wear, like he had run his fingers along the words more than once. Pansy didn't know if she was projecting, if she was guessing too much.
It was possible that this was absolutely nothing.
Pansy -
You should change your major to poetry.
Not Business, no. That would be far too boring. That's the one thing I can honestly say I don't mess with.
- Harry
P.S. it's a bit upsetting that you find me too boring.
She wasn't too fond of the terse replies, but it was filling her days. As weeks went on they got wittier, more personalized. She still didn't know his major, or who he even was.
Harry -
Will you ever tell me your major? Or anything? It's all rather amusing, how secretive you're keeping it. What can be so fascinating that you're keeping quiet?
- Pansy
Pansy -
It's not a secret. You just liked guessing.
Education.
- Harry
Oh. Oh, you're that Harry!
- Pansy
It was easy to find him, after that. She knew who he was easily. Harry James Potter, the new star of the lacrosse team. She should have assumed with how terse his replies were occasionally, how tense he seemed to be whenever the games were. He was fit.
And they had meant once or twice before at parties. He had been awkward and gangly, and they hadn't gotten along well.
Now, though... Now they had a base. They had something. They had an agreement.
And the next year, the same thing happened. Harry had class right after her, so she left him a note.
Or two.
Or three.
Harry -
Love you. Also, let's get a cat.
- Pans