Hello again! Thank you all for your continued support and for not hating me for the long, long hiatus! I love each and every one of you, even the ones who secretly harbor a grudge against me for taking so long. Here's the next chapter for you!
Find me on tumblr at flightofdeathfrench.
None of the characters are mine (except Cal) – they're CP Coulter's. None of the settings are mine – they're JK Rowling's.
Chapter 10
Dear Julian,
Who do you think Logan is in love with? I can't believe he wouldn't tell us. And that he would yell at me like that! I don't love Hilary. Maybe I did but she's changed; I met her on the street and she sort of likes me still but I was clear that I do not feel the same about her. Logan would slice my neck open for some reason if he heard that. It's ridiculous. Do you have any ideas who he might love?
From,
Derek
Dear Derek,
I have no idea. Do you reckon I should write him, or give him time to cool off? Everything is boring here. I'm bored. There is nothing to do. I can't stand a whole summer of this.
From,
Julian
Dear Julian,
I wish we could get together. You, me, and Logan. Over the holiday. Would your mum be alright with that? I doubt Logan's dad would mind.
From,
Derek
Dear Derek,
We haven't even talked to Logan yet. Let's not make plans so hastily.
I'll send him an owl and let you know if he responds.
From,
Julian
Dear Logan,
Hello stranger. If you are dead and/or hate me, do not respond to this. If you are not, please respond. I'm worried about you!
From,
Julian
Julian sat by the window in his bedroom, watching the sky. It had been a week since he'd sent that owl to Logan. He was dying to get a response. He hadn't lost hope yet, because his owl still hadn't returned. He tapped his fingers against the desktop, his chin resting in his other hand. Boredom made his brain feel slow and inactive, thinking like moving through syrup. His head slowly slipped closer and closer to the desk until finally he let his hand drop and his cheek landed on the wood of the desk. He lay there, one eye still trained on the sky outside, the other blocked by the darkness the wooden desk created. After a few minutes, he drifted into sleep, and wasn't awakened until he felt something land on his head.
He jumped up, and the something screeched and flew off toward its perch in the corner of the room.
His owl! He ran over to it, delighted to see that it was clutching a piece of parchment. He untied it and quickly unrolled it.
Dear Julian,
This is a response. I'm not dead and I don't hate you. Sorry I haven't written. A lot on my mind and I wanted to be left alone for awhile to think about it. Seeing as you will not leave me alone, however, I guess you can write to me. If you want.
From,
Logan
Dear Logan,
I'm sorry for bothering you…
But when has that ever deterred me before?
Never. You're right. So I'll continue to write to you.
How are things with your dad?
From,
Julian
Dear Derek,
HE RESPONDED! HE SENT A LETTER BACK AND SAID HE'S JUST BEEN THINKING A LOT LATELY AND WANTED TO BE LEFT ALONE BUT THEN HE SAID THAT SINCE I WOULDN'T LEAVE HIM ALONE HE WOULD LET ME WRITE TO HIM!
From,
Julian
Derek sighed in relief upon reading Julian's letter. He'd been worried about Logan, who had been so upset before leaving the castle. Derek wondered what was really going on. He didn't know. Logan seemed to be in love with someone, but why would it make him so upset, and why would he need a spell…?
He did have one idea but it was crazy and definitely not true.
Sometime in early August, Logan lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He could hear sounds on the street, boys and girls playing. He used to be part of that. He and Cal used to play all the time. They'd run around in their backyards, building things, trying to learn magic, they'd race up and down the street, they'd play with the toy broom Cal's dad had gotten for him…
Now Cal hadn't been to Logan's house once and Logan knew that he wouldn't be welcome at Cal's. He didn't think he'd mind this as much as he did.
His own house was too quiet. His dad was gone all day and part of the night, off at the Ministry or somewhere. Once, Julian had told Logan that he'd read in the Biography of Harry Potter that you could enter the Ministry through a toilet but Logan had never been to the Ministry so he didn't know.
An owl pecked at the closed window, and Logan jumped up. He threw open the window and grinned as he let the owl in. It was Julian's! He didn't even notice the kids on the street, who were playing some weird game (they all scattered whenever a car drove by, which was pretty funny for Logan to watch sometimes), looking up at him, in awe of the fact that an owl had come straight to his window demanding entrance.
Logan unfurled Julian's letter. It was a response to his last letter, which had been sent only a few days ago. Julian was quick with replies, and they'd been writing back and forth constantly all summer. Logan and Derek had sent a few letters but the ground was still pretty rocky with them, what with Logan being embarrassed about his outburst on the train, and Derek being paranoid that Logan hated him.
Dear Logan,
I'm really sorry about that. I wish he paid more attention to you. At least he doesn't hurt you. You know who you're like? You're like Harry Potter. Maybe you can grow up and defeat an evil dark wizard or something like he did! And Derek and I can help you! He can be Hermione. I want to be Ron. But smarter and better-looking.
I'm still bored here. Next summer we have to spend together.
From,
Julian
Logan felt a smile slip onto his lips, and it grew and grew. Julian. Always talking about Harry Potter. Always making Logan feel better.
"I have something to tell you," Logan told his father on the night before term started again. His dad had gone to Diagon Alley without Logan one day and returned with all of his school things, not even saying a word as he dropped them off in Logan's room. Logan had been surprised and disappointed, because he'd been hoping to see his friends in Diagon Alley.
"Alright," Mr. Wright said, shoving a piece of food into his mouth and chewing. He spoke around it as he said, "What is it?"
Logan felt his heart skip a few beats and then get back on track beating faster than it should. He blinked and opened his mouth, ready to say it, to tell his dad that he liked boys instead of girls…
"Nothing," came out instead.
His dad narrowed his eyes at him. "What, Logan? What do you have to say to me? Because you've been so quiet all summer. You've barely said three words the whole time!"
"Like you've given me the chance!" Logan exclaimed angrily. "You never talk to me!"
"You're my son! I'm here to keep you fed and protected, you aren't a sounding board!" The usual glint of anger was evident in Logan's father's eyes.
"Well you aren't a sounding board for me either!" Logan said, standing up, sending his chair toppling over behind him. "You don't listen to me or care about me! You don't love me like you should!" His voice cracked and he turned and ran for the stairs to go up to his room.
"LOGAN! Get back here right now, young man!" His father was coming after him and Logan tensed. He went up a few stairs before turning around.
"You can't talk to me like that," his dad said sternly.
"I can, and I will," Logan said, crossing his arms but backing up another step. He knew his father wouldn't hurt him but he was still intimidated.
He saw his dad's hand reach into his pocket and take out his wand. "You'll go to your room and stay there," he said, holding up the wand threateningly. "Or I'll make you."
"I have to tell you something!" Logan protested, backing up a few more steps.
"Then tell me!" Mr. Wright roared, and Logan flinched.
"I-I-I'm-" Logan made his mouth form around the word but he could make no noise come out. He mouthed it instead.
The wand clattered to the floor. "Say that out loud and you're out of this house," his dad said lowly.
Logan's Christmas tree eyes grew big and round.
"I'm sorry!" he said desperately, feeling tears prick at the corners of his eyes but refusing to let them fall.
"You should be."
Logan turned and fled, running upstairs, still fighting back the tears.