AN: This chapter I give to the ever beautiful Drops of Jupiter, by Train.
Harry,
I don't think anyone would recognize me, to be honest. I haven't cut my hair, or change my eyes or anything… But things are so different now. I open a book and all I can see is your face. I don't learn anything from their pages. Every word forms a new question.
Are you okay?
Are you better, now?
Does it hurt?
Did it hurt?
Did life hurt more?
God, there's so many questions I want to ask you.
I replaced my whole wardrobe, you know. Black, so I can mourn properly. And some green things, a pretty emerald. The closest I could find to your eyes. And some silver, too. Slytherin colors, I know. Cold and desolate.
But I am cold and desolate, aren't I? At least, I am now.
You really wouldn't recognize me. Or, maybe you would. I have a feeling you would.
Molly had a fit when she found out. Went and got about ready to start a whole rant and I told her to piss off. Asked her how it was any of her business. Why she thought she had a say in my life when it doesn't concern her. She was shocked. I wish I could say I was, too.
But I wasn't. I feel like this has been coming for a long while, now.
I miss you.
Love,
Hermione