Once I lived a dream. I loved you and you loved me. We would see each other everyday, and when I was with you nothing else in the world mattered. Every morning you would come over to me in the Great Hall, wrap your arms around me, and say how much you loved me. Then we would walk to our lessons together hand-in-hand , everyone looking at us and saying how we were the perfect couple. And we were, we completed each other. We lived in our own little world of secrets where we would sneak around and snog under the stairwells and such.
I remember one time how we made love right in the middle of the empty Herbology classroom! I was so worried about how people might discover us and we'd never hear the end of it, but you assured me that all was well. But the, a few days later, you got so mad at your twin brothers when they asked you for an "encore" performance. They had seen everything!
Then, when the basilisk got me and they were not sure if I was going to make it, you stayed by me the whole time. That was when I knew that it was love. You know, the real kind, like what Shakespeare would write about. We were Romeo and Juliet, I being from a really strict Muggle family was not allowed to marry a wizard; you were a Pureblood. Still, you promised that our love was stronger than any obstacle which lay before us. You said that if we were not meant to be together, then God would have never let us fall in love in the first place.
Oh Percy, if all you said was true - - and I know it was - - then why did you suddenly exit from my life altogether after graduation? It is true that we went our separate way, you went to work for the Ministry while I went off to college in the States, but you promised that you would not let that come between us. The second that I arrived in New York I sent you an Owl, but you never responded. I had no other way to reach you... three years of true love and you were suddenly out of my life forever.
Forever, though? My head says that you're gone, but my heart tells me to hold still and you will return. I guess that just may have to do with the fact that my name is "Penelope", much like Odysseus' wife who refused to marry any of her suitor for she was certain that although lost at sea for twenty years, her husband would someday return home to her. Who ever knew that faith could be such a flaw? Faith, in my case, has slowly turned into mourning; and mourning can only last so long before it turns to night.