Dreaming Of You

Dreaming of You

Part 4 - Erin

Chapter 5

In all your fantasies,

You always knew

That man and mystery

Were both in you.

And in this labyrinth

Where night is blind,

The Phantom of the Opera is there,

Inside your mind.

~*~

I do not want to listen to this woman chatter. Erin sighed, staring vaguely in the direction of her biology teacher, who had an aggravating tendency to start babbling on about completely irrelevant things. Glancing back down at her notes, Erin poked the several blank sheets of paper with her pen. Maybe she won't notice if I start writing something else...

Almost of its own volition, Erin's hand began writing a letter to Remus. She nearly blushed, thinking about it. Lord, it was pathetic to be writing letters to an imaginary character at eighteen. She hadn't even told Hazel about it. She'd thought about it, once or twice, but she'd just been too embarrassed.

Dear Remus, she began. She had a whole drawer full of these letters, at home. Normal people kept diaries. She wrote letters to her fantasy love. This was really, really sad...

Dear Remus,

Earlier today, I was joking that I felt left out of the whole insanity thing that Li, Autumn, and Hazel have going. But honestly, I do feel left out. I wish there was some way for me to contact you, even if it would only be pretend. The other three are lucky. At least they have something. All I have is a pile of stupid letters.

What would you tell me to do if you were here, I wonder? Probably to stop daydreaming and to listen to my teacher. Well, other than that? Would you give me sappy, follow-your-heart advice to just do whatever I need to make my dream come true? Or would you be more practical, and say that I should give up on something I know can never happen?

Not that it matters. You aren't here. If you were, there wouldn't be a problem, anyway. You could hold me and kiss me and just love me, and I'd have my dream for real, not just for a moment's pretending.

Ah, well. Wishful thinking is very nice, but it won't help me pass biology. I still love you, and I wish I could hear you tell me you feel the same.

Yours forever,

Erin

Erin slid the letter into the back pocket of her private notebook. She could put it in with the others when she got home. For now, it would be safe where it was.

And she really ought to at least pretend to pay attention to the teacher.

~*~

"Where's my letter?" Erin all but screamed. There wasn't much point in being loud, as she was the only one home just then, but she was too frantic to think about it. "Oh, God, oh, God, I can't have lost it!"

She rooted desperately through her backpack. Maybe it had fallen out of her notebook, and was sitting in the bottom of the bag. If someone found it... if someone read it... I don't know what I'll do. No, scratch that, I'll kill them. But I don't know what I'll do after that.

Once all the contents of her backpack were scattered on the floor around her, Erin was forced to admit that her letter just wasn't there. She felt like crying as she stuffed things randomly back into the bag. I lost it. I can't believe I lost it. She picked up her private notebook - and a folded sheet of paper fluttered out.

Erin snatched it up. Yes, it was a letter! Oh, thank God I've found it! She sighed, half laughing in relief. "Don't I feel an idiot," she muttered, picking up her backpack and dragging it to her room. She dropped it by her door and fell onto her bed.

That was when she realized that the handwriting on the letter hadn't been her own.

Erin stared at the letter, alarmed. No, this wasn't her handwriting. And it began, Dear Erin! Someone else had written this!

Dear Erin,

I got your letter, and I have to say it really confused me. Have we met? I don't think I know anyone named Erin, or Autumn or Hazel, for that matter. I do know a Li, but I rather doubt it's the same one. Did we meet in school, perhaps, and I've forgotten?

Flattering as it is to have someone pledge her undying love to me, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I can't say the same. I'm sure that if we met, I'd quite like you, but as I don't even know you, I can hardly love you.

You asked me what advice I'd give you, if I were there with you. That may have been rhetorical, but I'll tell you. I'd say that you should get out, meet people, and live your life. Maybe you'd call it sappy, maybe you'd call it practical. I don't know. But it's what I'd say. It sounds to me like you're wasting your life for unrequited love. Please don't, at least not for my sake. I'm hardly worth it, and I should hate to have something like that on my conscience.

Take care, Erin.

Sincerely,

Remus

Erin's face was burning by the time she was done reading. Someone had read her private letter. Someone had dared to invade her own special sanctuary of dreams, for no other purpose than to humiliate her. Now she had a better idea of how Autumn felt when that boy called her pretending to be Draco.

The worst part was, the letter sounded exactly like Remus ought to sound. Not the romantic letter she'd occasionally imagined he might send her, but what Remus might actually write, if faced with the circumstances this letter would have put him in. They could at least have made him seem fake!

Erin was about to start crying when the phone rang. She yanked it off the hook. "What?" she snarled, not caring how rude she sounded, and hoping viciously that it was someone selling something.

"Er... sorry. Bad time?" For once, Lianne actually sounded timid. Well, most people would, after being greeted that way.

"Yes!" Erin snapped. Then some dam inside of her broke, and she started shaking, trying to stop the tears from running down her face. No! I'm eighteen, I'm too old for this! I shouldn't cry over something as stupid as a storybook character!

"Erin?" Li gasped in dismay. "Erin, what happened?"

Choking back her sobs, Erin let the whole story pour out, from how she'd been writing to Remus, to this horrible new letter that was supposedly from him. She could almost forget that it was Lianne she was talking to, talkative, chatterbox Lianne. Apparently the girl could keep her mouth shut when she chose.

"Wow. That's really terrible," Lianne said sympathetically, when it was clear Erin was done. "If you ever find out who wrote that, let me know. I'll attack them, if you'd like."

"Tchuh." Erin rolled her eyes, sniffling. "They'd squash you flat. Don't fight because of me." She frowned. "Aren't you going to say that this is a dream come true, and the rest of the crap you usually preach?"

"When your feelings are hurt?" Lianne was horrified. "How could that be true love?"

"So you don't think I should write back, or anything stupid like that?" Erin asked, surprised.

"Well, of course you should write back," Lianne said innocently. "They want to play games with you? Play along. See if you can get whoever-it-is right back!"

"Normal people would say to ignore it," Erin said dryly.

"Normal people don't fall in love with story characters," Li said brightly. "Who wants to be normal, anyway?"

"I used to." Erin had to smile, watery though the expression was.

"Good thing you have the rest of us, then." Lianne seemed satisfied that she'd cheered her friend up properly. "Anyway, Erin, did you get the art homework? I lost my assignments notebook again..."

~*~

"Get whoever it is back," Erin murmured, tapping the blank white paper with her pen. "Ok, Li. You'd better be right about this."

Dear Remus,

You were confused by my letter? Well, I suppose it's only natural. Men. You can't remember the time of day, let alone a woman you pledged to love. Not only can't you remember me, you've even forgotten Hazel and Autumn! Your poor sisters will be horrified. They're nice girls, though. They deserve a better brother.

You'd counsel me to get over you, would you? Well, that's singing a different tune from when last we met, and no mistake! As I recall, you swore you'd love me till the end of time, and begged me to say the same. If you feel differently now, though - and it's clear enough you do - you might at least say so, instead of trying to pretend you don't even know me!

I hate you. Never write to me again. The engagement is off!

Ever so sincerely,

Erin

Erin smiled vindictively, looking down at the finished letter. If someone could steal this one, good! Let him think he'd ruined an innocent girl's love life! Serve him right for what he'd done.

She tucked the letter into the back pocket of her notebook. She'd make a point to leave it unattended at several points throughout the day. Give whoever-it-is ample time to find the letter. Maybe she could even worm a confession out of him.

~*~

"So?" Lianne asked. "Did you write back?"

"Write who back?" Autumn demanded, looking up from her lunch. "Erin, do you know what she's going on about now?"

"Someone pretended to be Remus writing to me," Erin said with a sigh. "And yes, I wrote back, but I don't know if he's gotten it yet." She pulled out her notebook and checked the back pocket. "Nope, still here - "

"That isn't your writing!" Hazel exclaimed, cutting her cousin off as she peered at the paper in the notebook. "Erin, I know you didn't write that!"

"You're right!" Erin removed the letter. Sure enough, it started, Dear Erin.

Dear Erin,

I am horribly, terribly sorry. There seems to be some sort of misunderstanding. Erin, I don't know who was intended to receive your letters, but it can't be me. I'm not your fiancé, and I don't even have one sister, let alone two. Now I'm certain I've never met you, because otherwise I'd understand what it is you meant.

If I were you, I'd check your owl. It may have gotten confused during delivery. Remus isn't a common name, but apparently there are two people with it. Try adding a last name when you address your letters.

I wish you and your fiancé all the happiness in the world, and I hope I haven't caused any grief between you.

Sincerely,

Remus Lupin

"How'd he reply so fast?" Erin asked, shocked. "I mean, it takes work to sound this much like someone else! You can't just scribble it out between classes!"

"His handwriting looks like Remus's, too," Hazel offered.

"How do you know?" Autumn asked incredulously.

Hazel dug through her backpack and produced her rather battered copy of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, paging through until she found the page where the Marauders spoke to Snape through the Map. "There. See?"

"Whoa. That's weird." Lianne shivered. "He does write like Remus!"

"Hello? This is Reality calling!" Autumn stared at the two girls in disbelief. "The writing in the books? That's called a font. Computers use them to simulate handwriting. It isn't really Remus's handwriting because Remus does not exist."

"I know that, even if they don't," Erin assured her. "Don't worry. I haven't lost it yet."

"Yet," Lianne emphasized cheerfully.

Hazel looked at the letter again. "Are you going to reply?"

Erin set her shoulders stubbornly. "Yes, I am. I'm going to reply, and keep on replying till I catch him at it! He's trying to make a fool out of me. Well, I won't let that happen."

"Wouldn't it be easier to just ignore him and hope he'll go away?" Hazel wanted to know.

"That would be the uncreative approach," Li said dismissively.

"Creativity aside," Erin said, eyes narrowing, "I refuse to be made a fool of. Someone knows about my letters. I'd never even have told you about them, Hazel. They're too much a - a part of me. But someone found out. He stole that from me. And I am going to find out who did it. And then I am going to make that bastard pay."

Chapter 5.5

~*~ flashback ~*~

God, I hate being sick. Erin debated throwing her box of tissues across the room, but decided against it. Her father was working on Saturday - again - and her mother was out shopping. She'd just have to pick it up herself the next time she sneezed. Which would probably be any -

"A-choo!"

- any second now. Good thing she hadn't thrown her tissues away. Erin blew her nose, wallowing quite grumpily in her misery. Colds were the worst sort of sick to be. You couldn't do anything but sit in bed because you were sneezing all the time, but you felt just well enough to get bored with sitting around all day. And your nose felt all red and swollen because your parents only bought the cheap tissues that scratched up your face before you were a quarter of the way through with the box. Or maybe that was just her.

Erin flopped back against her pillow, trying to think of ways to alleviate her boredom. There is no way I'm going to do homework, she decided. Biology and calculus were the last things she wanted to think about right then. The study of whatever was making her sick in the first place, and the study of things guaranteed to make her even sicker. Who the hell needed to know the Calvin cycle, anyway?

I could always read a book. She considered the idea. No, she'd read all her books already, and there was no one likely to go to the library for her. And fascinating as most of her books were, there just wasn't anything she -

No. Wait. Erin frowned. What about those books Hazel had lent her? Weren't they by Something Potter? No, that was the kid in the title. Something Potter and the Whatever.

Erin leaned over the side of her bed. She'd dropped them beside her nightstand, hadn't she? Yes, there they were. Harry Potter, that was it. And the Sorcerer's Stone. Except wasn't it really called the Philosopher's Stone? She thought she remembered Hazel saying something about that at their last family gathering. Something about how the book had been translated into American English from British English. Or maybe it was just the title. She hadn't really grasped most of it.

Well, after reading this, she'd at least know what it was Hazel liked to talk about so much. That was the only reason she'd read Tolkien.

Of course, Lord of the Rings was now one of her favorite series. So maybe these Potter books would be good, too.

~*~

Monday afternoon, Erin sighed and closed Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. She couldn't believe she'd finished all four books in just three days. It was a personal record. Especially considering the size of the last one. What was it, some sort of encyclopedia?

And it didn't even end yet. Erin scowled. It was just getting really interesting, too. And that cool teacher was going to come back.

The thought of Remus Lupin made her smile, almost embarrassedly. A blush warmed her cheeks. She could just see him, and hear him.

Erin shook her head sharply. Am I mooning over a fictional character? She reminded herself sternly that eighteen-year-old girls did not do things like that. She'd managed to get through her life so far without the "obligatory" crush on an actor or singer. She was not going to fall for a bunch of words written in an interesting way. An interesting, soft-spoken, handsome, kind way...

Oh, Lord, I'm turning into that girl in my art class. Erin grimaced. The girl in question, while a rather good artist, was considered to be slightly mad, and tended to draw pictures of a man - whom Erin now knew was Sirius Black - and insist he was her soul mate.

Well, she wasn't going to do anything crazy like that. Certainly not. She was entirely sane, thank you. She didn't go around drawing imaginary people and trying to make a temple of eternal love for the artwork. (Ms. Holland had dismantled it, saying that she needed that garden hose for the still life, and that sticks of incense weren't allowed on school campuses, no, not even if you took them off-campus to light them. Afterwards, someone in the class was always ready to volunteer to take that girl's work to the paper cutter for her.)

No, Erin was perfectly sane. Which was why, upon looking down, she realized that she'd started a letter in her private notebook with the words, Dear Remus.