Running

Chapter 3

The Letter

"I love you, Hermione," Ron said quietly, holding her slightly closer.

Hermione hesitated slightly before saying, "I-I love you too, Ron..."

Hermione groaned, pushing her face into the pillow.

It was a beautiful night, she would say that. The stars shone above, twinkling around the moon, and infinite amount of space spread out before her eyes.

Maybe there was another Hermione out there, just like her, sitting quietly, while a different, but same, Ron sat beside her talking away about something she wasn't listening to. Thinking about that made her a bit nervous.

"Hermione," she heard Ron say, and she was snapped out of her thoughts.

"Yes?" she asked, slightly embarrassed.

"I asked you a question."

"You did?"

He sighed, "Yes, I did."

"Oh... sorry. I was thinking that maybe there was another Hermione out there just like me who is staring out at space while--"

"Will you marry me?"

Again she was snapped out of her thoughts and words by his voice. This time she was shocked, though, not embarrassed. Because this time she had actually heard his words, "Wha-what?"

He didn't say anything, just looked at her, his eyes hopeful.

"Oh... God..." were her words as his question hit her. But she didn't think about it, really, just answered quickly, "Of course I will! Yes!"

Hermione sighed, flipping over onto her back. No tears were left to cry. She was exhausted, but couldn't fall asleep. Standing up, she went out into her living room. Outside clouds covered the stars, she noticed, as she walked by a window. Carefully, she stepped out the portrait into her office. There she grabbed some parchment, a quill and a bottle of ink, before going back into the living room.

The rain outside started to fall, hitting the windows softly, as the fire glowed warmly. Sitting down cross-legged in front of the short coffee table, she uncapped the inkbottle before starting to write. What, she wasn't exactly sure.

'Whoever happens to read this,

I don't know exactly what I am writing this for, or what I am writing about. I just felt the need to write something to someone. Who gets this, I do not know. I will send it off with an owl to whomever the owl feels is best to read this. Owls are smart that way, I have learned. Why else would we wizards pick them to send our mail? After all, some mail is important...

But I know I did not start writing this to talk about owls and mail. But, like I said, I don't know what I am writing about... I just know I'm not writing about that. I should quite repeating myself...

For the past... well, however long it was, I kind of lost track of time, I have been crying. Crying because memories of a past life came flooding back, and I didn't wish for them to. When coming face to face with the past, things were forced back upon me. Things which I wished to forget. Not forget exactly. More like... push aside for a while. They interfere with my life that is going on now... my new life.

I wish I could tell everything to you in this letter. But if I did I would have more problems put on me, and you, I suppose, than would be worth it. It would lift a weight off my shoulders, I know that. But it is a weight I must live with, and I have learned to accept that. It is a weight that may never leave... and if it does, when I do not know. The person I told everything to would have to be someone I trusted... and that isn't many at this time.

Life is a confusing web of thoughts, hopes, fears and feelings. Sometimes I wish to just escape them all... go to some other world, where it is untroubled by them. I want to be myself. My main wish is to be free from the ropes that tie my down to this life... but what those ropes are, I will not say. I do not like to think of them, nor some of my other memories. The Past is not something I like to dwell upon.

I don't know where I am going with that... my thoughts of it ended there. I cannot continue. Actually, I can. Just I don't want to. Again, I am making little sense...

Maybe if I could go back in the past... change a couple things... then maybe things would be different. I have thought this many times. It would be so simple, really. Get a hold of a time turner, go back several years, and somehow persuade my past self to make different decisions... not get involved with this person, not to trust another... not to go to a certain place that has haunted my mind for a long time... But, I will not do that. I do not give up that easily. I will not take the easy way out. I have done that before, and look where it got me... I could have done something else. But it was harder. And I didn't want it to be. So I refused to go down the hard path, and took the easy one instead...

And now here I am, with no tears left to cry... yet there is more that want to come out...

And as I write words that do not make sense to myself, and leave out words that need to be written, to be told, things come to mind... poems, songs, stories, memories... good and bad. Light and Dark. The equator and the North Pole. Two different things that have barely anything in common with each other... yet have so many things in common that a person leaves out...

My thoughts are words mingled with memories... lines and phrases mingled with dreams... And I cannot sort them all. I cannot write and make sense very easily. I am sorry for that. And I cannot think of a way to make it say sense... except, possibly a poem... Yet I do not want to write one... it is... not right for this moment. Yet it is. I don't know.

I cannot continue writing. I am not sure if anyone will actually receive this... possibly the owl will return with my address-less letter. No direction for the owl... no direction for me, really. Where I will end up, I do not know. Where I won't... I do not know that either.

I cannot disclose my name at this moment... in case this falls in the wrong hands... because who knows what would happen then...'

Hermione sighed, and set her quill down. She stood up, and went towards her room, where her owl, Diosa, which means Goddess in Spanish, sat on her perch. Quietly, she tied the letter to her owl's leg, and said, "Take this to whoever you think is best... it is up to you."

Diosa nipped Hermione's finger affectionately, before flying out the now open window in a flurry of black.