Letters To and From a Stranger
By Nini, the Electrocuted Sheep (formerly g0ldensnidget, a.k.a Snitch)
Authoress's notes: wow. It's been nearly a year since I first posted this fic. And it's been nearly half a year since I got stuck with it. I can't believe I let that happen... I'm sorry – I say this to every person who reviewed and was disappointed that I didn't continue – but I also say: thank you. Thank you to every person who reviewed (save for the flamers, few as they were ). Thank you all.
Here I give you, the last chapter of this story, the last Letter To and From a Stranger:
Letter XX:
From One Rose to Another
June 14th, 2026
Hello, Vered.
You might be wondering who this letter is from. Seeing as it wasn't delivered by mail, with no 'return to sender' address, it's understandable. Perhaps even more intriguing is the discovery that this letter is written in English, rather than in Hebrew – though the address, your address, was written in Hebrew.
I'll clear up a few things:
My name is Rose Potter. My parents are Harry and Ginny Potter. I was named, I suppose, after you. Vered, it means 'rose' in Hebrew. How do I know this, you ask me?
Well. My father, in his 6th year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, sent a letter off with his owl, Hedwig. It was a randomly written 'boredom-letter'. And it reached you. You, Vered who lives in Israel. I can't stress how weird this is to me. Though I suppose you understand – it's probably not everyday that you get a letter from the child of a penpal from over 20 years ago, is it?
I found the letters you and my father sent each other – he kept duplicates of his own letters, for some reason – when I was burrowing in the attic. I was looking for Dad's old Weasley Sweaters – the famous ones he used to get on Christmas every year from Grandma Molly? Well, I found them all right. And with them I found a stack of letters. Half written on parchment, the other half on an assortment of papers, pages that looked as though torn from notebooks, and various other stationary. But all of them held the same handwriting – my first thought was that this was written by a girl. Stupid, I know, since there are some boys who have rather girlish handwriting, and plenty of girls who have messy handwriting (like myself. I hope it's not too messy). But the first thing I knew was that these words had been written by a girl.
I decided to pry. Stick my nose in. Search through buried secrets. Call it what you will – I read those letters. My first instinct was to laugh – but I decided that I wouldn't, I'd sit here in the attic for a while and read the letters exchanged between my teenaged father and a girl from Israel.
What I read made me smile. There were rants, suggestions, questions, advice, and just general stuff that letters are composed of. It really touched me, that my dad had someone he cared for somewhere safe away, a friend that he'd never met. I don't suppose we shall ever meet, as I don't think I'd ever find myself in Israel or you in England. But I still hope.
I want to thank you, Vered, for being there for my father. In your last letter to him, you'd written that you were planning to get married. Are you married now, living happily with your husband and perhaps a child or two? I hope you are. I have a brother: James Potter. And boy does he live up to his namesake. Same black hair that Dad has, same hazel eyes that granddad had. Only he has Mum's smile – the Weasley smile.
I saw you in the picture you sent my dad. You're very pretty, do you know? You've got a somewhat simple beauty about you – kind of this natural look. You don't wear makeup, I know from your letters, and you don't groom yourself like a pampered princess. You take care of yourself the way you want to, and it's that which makes you so special. What made you so special to my dad.
He doesn't know I'm writing to you. If you like, you can write me a letter back – I've included a (magical) envelope that, when sealed, will disappear from your hands and reappear in mine. So if you want, you can resume your penpalship with my dad. If not, I'd love to write to you. If you don't want to I can also understand – this is a part of your past that you might not want to dig up. I won't be offended.
Do what you think is best.
Waiting hopefully –
-Rose Potter.
PS:
...happy birthday.
(perhaps, you could call this Letter XXI)
June 16th, 2026
Dearest Rose Potter...