I was lounging on the sofa, the comforting hum of the air conditioner blending with the quiet rustle of pages from my favorite muggle book. The flat was eerily silent, a stark contrast to the lively chaos of Hogwarts. Jeremy had been gone all day, buried in his work until late hours. Sometimes, he didn't even come home, leaving me in a space that felt both oddly spacious and oddly empty.
It had been two weeks since summer started, and my days had settled into a predictable routine: writing letters to friends, devouring books, and hanging out with Taylor. I hadn't done anything particularly productive, and part of me felt a pang of guilt for it. The freedom was blissful but oddly unsettling, like floating in a dream where I was unsure whether I was supposed to be awake or asleep.
The door swung open, and Jeremy's familiar presence filled the space. He walked in with the nonchalance of someone used to being on the move. "Justin," he said, dropping a letter onto the sofa beside me. I looked up from my book, feeling a flutter of excitement.
"Hannah," he continued, handing me another envelope, followed by "Ernie" and "Cedric," each name stirring a different wave of nostalgia. When he handed me the letter marked with Oliver's name, I felt a mix of warmth and anticipation. Finally, he raised his eyebrows and gave me a letter marked "Zacharias Smith."
"Who is this one?" Jeremy asked, his curiosity piqued. I took the envelope from him, my mind racing back to Zacharias. "He's a guy... in the same house as me, but we weren't really great buddies," I explained, examining the letter with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
Jeremy sank into the couch, his day evidently catching up to him. "Aren't you going to have dinner with me?" he asked, glancing at me with a hint of expectation.
"I've already eaten," I called back, not looking up as I gathered my letters and headed to my bedroom. The door creaked open, and I plopped down at my desk, eager to delve into the first letter.
The envelope from Hannah was worn from travel. I carefully peeled it open and unfolded the letter. The familiar scrawl of her handwriting brought a smile to my face. I began reading:
Dear Arabella,
I got your last letter and I miss you too.
I'm on holiday in France at the moment and I didn't know how I was going to send this to you — what if they'd opened it at customs? — But then April turned up! I think she wanted us to stay in touch. I saw Ernie a week before I left and he was going to his brother who studies werewolves in Romania. I really miss you all. There's some interesting local history of witchcraft here, too. I've rewritten my whole History of Magic essay to include some of the things I've found out; I hope it's not too long — it's two rolls of parchment more than Professor Binns asked for. I'm actually starting to love History of Magic, not like normal love or anything, just like obsessed with it.
Ernie and Justin say they're going to be in London in the next week. Can you make it? Will your brother let you come? I really hope you can. If not, we'll arrange something else.
Love, Hannah
P.S. Justin says Cedric's Head Boy. I'll bet Cedric's really pleased.
Reading Hannah's letter, a blend of emotions washed over me. Her adventures in France, her obsession with History of Magic, and the thought of seeing Ernie and Justin soon filled me with a sense of anticipation. I sighed, feeling a bittersweet tug at my heart. I missed them all deeply, yet their lives seemed to be moving on in ways that were both thrilling and distant.
I glanced at the letter from Oliver, a small thrill running through me as I imagined his handwriting. Then there was Zacharias's letter, its mystery lingering like a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit.
