A Never-read Letter

May 27th 1998

Dear Virginia,

Now that it's almost over I don't know why but I feel that there are things I should have told you. I am here waiting Potter watching you lie unconscious on the floor: in all these months I did nothing but use you, cheat on you, fool you. This is the first time I feel guilty and guilt isn't the only feeling that you make me feel, Virginia. Envy every time you talked about your family: how the twins teased you; how Ron got angry with you; how Percy urged you to study more and more; how your mother was happy for your good grades. I envy you because I have never known what a family is. And I remember that time when I suggested you to let Flitch caught Fred and George going around school on curfew: you replied that you couldn't do it because, even if they were mean with you, they loved you as much as you loved them. You have made me understand that a family not only is a matter of blood, but also people loving each other always and anyway.

Before you lost consciousness you told me you loved me: do you think about me as a member of your family? And do you still love me despite all the pain I gave you? Even now that I'm draining your life? This is the thing that hurts me more: till the last moment you smiled; you tried to make me laugh. Why, Virginia, Why didn't you insult me, or said you hate me? Why do you never stopped to be so sweet and gentle with me? You knew who I am, yet you did not show fear but gave affection: you are a creature so simple and yet I am unable to understand you. Before you fainted, you embraced me like... perhaps like a sister or a mother, perhaps liked something else: actually I don't know; as far as I can remember no one had embraced me before you. And when you told me that you loved me; I... I felt so confused that I didn't bear it: I wanted to reply you but I would have said another lie. I have pondered about what has been between us, about our talks, about what we have done. About what you have made me feel. Now I know what I must tell you.

I care about you: I don't dare to say love because it is a too big word. I know that it seem odd and absurd; yet I think to care about you: I don't know if like a brother, a friend or something more, but I care... love you. Yes, quite me, the most feared heartless and cruel wizard of the century, I am so attached to you. When I understood what was that warm and pleasant feeling tickling my heart every time I spoke with you; I have felt happy for the first time in my whole existence: I have to tell you! You will read this letter around one week from today: you won't die here and today, Virginia, not now that I know how important you are for me. It will be Potter's life force to free myself from the diary; afterwards I'll give you back your life and then we will be able to...

No, we couldn't love each other, not now: they would not understand. They could do who knows what to you and I... I don't want them to hurt you! I couldn't bear it! We have to wait: I will find a trusted person and we'll keep in touch. And when everything will be over; I will come to take you my sweet, dear, precious Virginia: you will wait for me, won't you?

Tom Marvolo Riddle

After the Light's victory, Mr. Harry James Potter found this letter among Lord Voldemort's possessions: he burnt it and his wife, Virginia Potter née Weasley, neither read nor acknowledged it in her whole life.