Words: 288
Warnings: none

A/N: Written for sortinghatdrabs, week 41. Prompt was "The story begins here...".


Mr Weasley,

your detention begins tonight precisely at seven. My office.

Professor Snape

After nearly five hours on his knees, Ron was able to fall into his bed. Snape had made him clean his fireplace with only a Muggle toothbrush. The Muggle way, obviously. He got off to sleep rather quickly, not knowing about the numerous encounters that'd follow this very first.


Severus,

I don't think I can live without you. Ever. Why did you leave me? Without you, everything is plain and blank.

Ron was sitting in front of the fireplace in Snape's old office and was staring into the dying embers. The parchment holding his message was long gone.

Hours later, Ron hadn't moved at all; only a single tear made its way down his cheek.


Snape,

it's been six months and I don't know how to cope with everything. I won't be able to just move on as you told me after our last meeting. Yeah, I know, you'd have called me a dunderhead, but I can't help it.

Back on the same spot, Ron held the message in his clenched hand. After briefly closing his eyes, he threw it into the dimly lit fire and observed how it was consumed by the flames.


Professor,

you'll always have a special place in my heart. Don't think otherwise! I know it's been a year since my last visit, but I won't forget you. Ever. Promise.

Bright flames gasped for the piece of parchment and devoured it. Ron stood in front of the fireplace again. He didn't notice the visitor, who came up behind him. A warm hand was gently placed on Ron's shoulder. He looked up, right into stormy grey eyes.


Every end implies a start.