Whispers of the Dove / R.L & S.B

🌼~°12°~🌼

<<<<Willow>>>

The holidays were quiet, too quiet. Christmas came and went, marked only by the bare tree I halfheartedly decorated in my apartment. The silence of my flat echoed louder than the bustling castle halls. Lonely doesn't even begin to describe it.

I spent most of my time curled up near the fireplace, a stack of letters resting in my lap—the only tangible connection I had to Lily. Her words, written years ago, were the only thing tethering me to the past I so desperately wanted to preserve. I read through them so many times that I could almost recite them by heart.

Dear Willow,

My first day at Hogwarts was magical. I was sorted into Gryffindor, for the bravest and most confident! I wish you could see this place—it's breathtaking, like something out of a fairytale.

I was so happy to meet you at Diagon Alley. Why aren't you at Hogwarts again? I know you said something about "family traditions," but I don't understand. You'd love it here, Willow. I'm sure we would have been the best of friends. I'll write you everything that happens to me, and I hope you'll answer. Please, promise me you will.

Love,
Lily

Her handwriting was messy, the loops of her "L" too large, and the ink blotches where she rushed her words spoke of her excitement. I smiled despite myself, imagining the bright-eyed eleven-year-old she must have been, stepping into Hogwarts for the first time.

Dear Willow,

I hate James Potter.

He's so annoying! Always staring at me in that weird, creepy way, like I'm some kind of puzzle he's trying to figure out. And don't get me started on his friends—they're the worst of all time! Pranking everyone, disrupting class, and somehow always getting away with it.

How are you doing? I made great friends with my roommates, Alice and Marlene. I think you'd like them—they remind me a bit of you, though not quite as sharp-witted. I wish you were here.

Miss you,
Lily

The laugh that escaped my lips was bitter. Oh, Lily. Even through her frustration, her warmth came through. She'd always been the type to collect people, to make friends out of anyone willing to meet her halfway.

Dear Willow,

I think I have a crush on James Potter.

Don't judge me, please! I can almost hear you teasing me already. But honestly, he's... different now. He got kind of hotter over the summer, if you can believe it, and our friend groups started hanging out more.

Did I tell you the boys call themselves the Marauders? Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and James Potter. These boys will be the death of me, Willow. Please save me! (Just kidding.)

I miss you. When can we finally meet up again? I'm dying to see you.

Love,
Lily