The Importance of Love

The masked stranger pointed a swift wand at the innocence lying before him. With no visible remorse he shouted the words that had been heard so many times before. The words of a death so violent, they were known as part of the Unforgivable Curse.

"Avada Kedavara!" Said with strength and demand. A bolt of green light shot from the end of the wand and headed straight for the sobbing bushy haired girl. She was, of course, a witch. The most intelligent witch ever known. As she cried for help, she knew her fate lied before her, and she embraced it with weary tension. The bolt of green sped faster and faster, right to the body of Hermione Granger.

So now, I suppose, you're wondering what happened. But before the end is told, we need to look more carefully at the beginning. For, if you could grasp the past, you would be able to understand more clearly the importance of love....

"Leave me ALONE! I don't want to talk about it!" Ronald Weasley, a fifteen year old wizard, was shouting behind his back as he strode carefully down the stairs of his old, ten story home. His twin brothers, Fred and George, were chasing after him, trying to taunt him into telling them exactly who was writing to him every single day. "Why are you still following me?"

"Come on Ronnie, tell us who's writing to you!" Fred teased from behind, reaching to grab his brother's back. Ron, trying to loosen Fred's grip, shook away, thus causing a major commotion at the bottom of the stairs. As Ron shook him off, Fred tumbled forward, knocking Ron clear off his feet. The two of them starting to roll down the stairs, George tried desperately to stop them, but greatly failed. The three of them were now rocketing down the stairs, only stopping when they hit the bottom. Their little sister, Ginny, was standing above them, giggling at the swaggered heap as they struggled to get up.

"It's none of your BUSINESS! Now LEAVE ME ALONE!" He pulled his wand out from the pocket of his faded black robes and aimed it at them. They backed off and he continued toward the living room. He had been in an extremely grumpy mood, far before the troublesome twins started bothering him. He sat down in their old, tattered couch, and pulled out the letter again.

Dear Ron,

I got your note. We should talk. Give my regards to the family.

Your friend,

Hermione

What kind of note was that? He just didn't understand. She was being completely obnoxious. That didn't give him any information. All that the note did was let him know that she wasn't interested. She had made that completely obvious. At the beginning of the summer he had written a note to Harry. He told him how he felt about Hermione and Harry had told him to tell her exactly how he felt. A lot of help that was. Her note told him very clearly that she wanted nothing to with him. We should talk? Give my regards to the family? Your friend? All that that meant was, I would never date you, Maybe someone else in your family, But we can still be friends. He ripped the letter in half and went to the kitchen for breakfast.

Well, as Ron was getting worked up over some girl, his best friend Harry was fretting about something else. Something much more frightening, and much less amusing.

"Boy! I'm warning you! Get on the phone, NOW!"

Harry got up from the chair he was sitting in with a groan and walked up to the phone that was hanging on the wall in their kitchen. His uncle Vernon was forcing him to talk to his sister, Aunt Marge, an enormous women who didn't hold her liquor well. The last time he had met with Aunt Marge he had inflated her to the size of a young blue whale.

"Hello," he said in a highly un-amused voice.

"Don't give me that ungrateful drawl, young boy!" Harry heard his aunt's voice boom from the opposite end. He was actually surprised that she would talk to him like that, after what happened. She continued to talk and talk and talk and talk. About everything, but mainly about him and his ungratefulness and disrespect.

After enduring her criticism for nearly five minutes straight, she told him that she had a present for Dudley, (she wanted him to know that he wasn't getting one,) and she wanted to talk to him about it. He gladly handed the phone to Dudley and sat back down at the kitchen table, only to find that Dudley had helped himself to Harry's food. He got up and returned to his room.

Upon opening his door, the first thing he noticed was a large phoenix sitting atop his suitcase at the end of his bed. "Fawkes!" Harry ran to the magnificent bird and picked up the letter that it had left on his bed.

Dear Mr. Potter,

I trust that Fawkes has not failed to deliver this message, as she never yet has, so I will continue in asking how your summer has been. As I have not yet read anything in the Daily Prophet, I am assuming that it has been as uneventful as always. Although it will seem boring to you, I am sure, this is a very good sign, as I'm sure I don't need to point out that that means Voldemort has not yet found you. I'm sure you are also aware, that I have assigned somebody to watch after you while you are staying where you are. I cannot say who, for fear of this letter getting intercepted, but I will tell you that this person is very close indeed, and that you may feel as safe with this person there as you would if I were standing right beside you. In conclusion, I would also like to remind you, that I have worked it out with the Weasleys and you are only permitted to stay with them the last week of vacation. (It would have been none if Mrs. Weasley weren't so persistent.)

Sincerely,

Prof. Albus Dumbledore