It's 1991 when our story begins and Julie Daniels is starting her third year in Hogwarts. She's smart and pretty, so it's been quite easy for her so far in school to make friends and have a great time. But suddenly boys are starting to mess with her...
As soon as those words, the words I was trying to tell her for ages, were out, I noticed that there was something wrong. Julie's eyes and the tip of her nose were red and I couldn't find the beautiful smile she was usually carrying in her face as she was standing there in the Hogwarts kitchen, a half eaten cinnamon bun in her hand. If I was honest to myself, I had expected her to run in to my arms, kiss me passionately and say that she loved me too. But she didn't do that. She didn't even move, she just looked at me. Afraid. "Julie, did you hear me?", I asked hopefully. But still, nothing. I somehow suspected that there was something going on and that I probably had just chosen the wrong timing, but I just couldn't control my emotions when it came to that girl. That was why, once again, I did the completely wrong thing. Instead of comforting her, holding her, being there for her, I totally overreacted. "So that's what you feel about me", I said angrily. "Nothing. I get it." Then I left her standing there in tears.
I must have thought through this situation about a hundred times since then. Julie was staying with Hermione's parents this summer and she had written me a dozen letters, to none of which I have replied so far. I kept them all hidden in the drawer of my bedside table, next to a bunch of scrunched up parchment where I had tried to write down an appropriate answer.
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It's been about two weeks now since Julie has arrived at the Burrow, but I had barely managed to talk to her. I thought if I didn't even manage to write down something remotely useful, I most certainly would not find the right words to speak to her. Better say nothing than say the wrong thing.
The watch on the wall in front of my bed read 2 AM. Where was she? We would leave early this morning and Julie hasn't come home yet. Tonight she was working at some local event down in the village, where George and Charlie had visited her. But George was already fast asleep. We had a little fight when he came home without her, which happened as good as never. "How could you leave her there alone?", I had shouted at my brothers when they appeared without Julie. "Oh, shut up, Fred", was George's answer. "If you worry about her so much, maybe you should look after her, don't you think? Or, I have another idea, you could start with talking to her again. Good night."
So now, while everybody else was asleep, I was still lying awake, watching the clock and waiting for Julie Daniels to come home and make sure she was okay. I wasted my time with reading my nonsense letters to her over and over again - it was complete scrap. I crunched the parchment of trash I had written down to a little ball and threw it angrily back into the drawer. The weather outside was horrible and the rain pounded heavily against the crooked windows of the Burrow. I had noticed earlier that Julie had left her yellow rain coat hanging in the wardrobe down in the hallway when she left for work, so I assumed she would come home completely wet. I then stopped looking outside and starred at the wall again. The clock hands hadn't even moved 5 minutes. Then, suddenly, I heard the stairs creaking. Someone was coming up. I stood up from my bed as quietly as I could, grabbed a towel and my hoodie for Julie to warm her up and carefully opened the door.
