February 15, 1977
8:09 pm
Queenie's Apartment

The breeze flowing in from the open window made Callaway freezing cold, but Queenie liked for the sounds of the city to travel inside with her, so Anneliese just had to deal with it with lots of blankets.

The past days had been pure torment of endless waiting.

The two week deadline for when she had to find a new school had already decreased by five days, and every second that passed without an answer just made her more and more sure that her life at Hogwarts was coming to an end.

Anneliese was starting to regret her abrupt departure.

I could have at least said goodbye to James and Lily and Remus and-

She cut her own thoughts off, a sob shaking through her body as she sank down onto the silky pink comforter of the queen bed in Goldstein's spare room.

The sickening pit in her stomach simply wasn't shaking, no matter how many times Queenie told her that just crying it out would always help. Crumpling down onto the mattress fully, Anneliese pressed her cheek to the cool fabric, the feeling a harsh contrast to her burning skin.

If she had thought seeing Sirius everyday without being able to talk to him out of her own silent rules was bad, then not seeing him at all was a whole different nightmare she had never anticipated.

She missed everything about him.

She missed the way that he got that mischievous look in his silver eyes when he or the Marauders were about to do something, how he would always know how to make any given student laugh if we wanted to.

Anneliese wished to hear his laugh again, that sound that would fill her up with butterflies and warmth from a few inches or the entire Potion's dungeon away.

Curling her knees into her chest, she thought of the way he would look at her with that combination of understanding and hope and longing all rolled into one deep gaze that never failed to make her melt, even if it was only on the inside and she didn't know what the sensation was when she had first felt it.

She thought of how they had both been disowned by their parents, how they both knew how to treat the other's weaknesses having been there themself.

But then she thought of how she hurt him.

How again and again, even through the good, they would both always find ways to be torn apart either by others or themselves.

How they made each other so angry like no one else could.

Anneliese used to think that love was something that was beautiful and perfect and easy and would always end in a happily ever after the second the two main characters confessed their love for one another.

Now she knew she was wrong.

Slowly standing up, Callaway realized what she had to do.

As she pulled out a piece of parchment, pot of ink, and quill, Anneliese sighed in deeply. She dipped the copper tip of the quill into the dark blue ink and brought it to the parchment.

Her decision was made.

Headmistress Sayre,

I know that-

The parchment was ruined by the bottle of ink she was using getting knocked over and splattering all over the beginning of what would have been a life changing letter with the gentle clink of glass against wood.

Instead, another one had just been sent through her window by a black owl.

Anneliese stared down at the envelope sitting on the desk in front of her, not knowing if she even wanted to touch it or not. The amount of weight she knew that it carried was immeasurable, if she was really receiving it and not in one of the dreams that had filled these past nights.

Callaway decided that she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she didn't open it.

Provoked by shaking, freckled fingers, the black wax seal with the simple Anneliese written above it ripped open.

Dear Anneliese,

I have written this letter over and over again for the past five days.

James, Remus, Peter and Frank kicked me out of the dormitories because I'm keeping them awake with the candlelight, frustrated shouts and 'annoying quill sounds,' as Peter so elegantly put it, rewriting this every night.

I've tried to start with the perfect sentence so that you won't put it down right away, I've tried asking people how long they would read before they stopped paying attention, and I've asked so many girls what they want to hear from a boy to the point where they all think I'm mental more than they already do.

But I know my time is running out.

If this letter isn't perfectly worded, you burn it, or you never even open it in the first place, then I don't blame you for never wanting to see me again. I just want to have one last chance to get things right, and here it is.

I love you, Anneliese Callaway, and I'm sorry it took me so damn long to say it.

It's always been you and only you, but I used to think that I hated you because of the way that you made me feel.

I told James, Remus, and Peter countless times that I never wanted to see you again because of the way that you made me get nervous and the way that I never knew how to charm you perfectly like I do literally anyone else at Hogwarts, and I'm pretty sure you heard me a few times.

The thing that I really hated was never you, it was the vulnerability you made me feel.

When we first met at Hogwarts, the first thing you did was make me wonder why you didn't like me like everyone else did after thoroughly scolding me in front of all of Gryffindor.

You saw right through the heartbreaker act in a way that no one else ever has before, and it left me feeling exposed and weak.

Trying to get you to like that act never worked.

We both know that the second we opened up to one another with our pasts and our true selves, that was when we truly fell.

To be honest, I'm still terrified of that vulnerability.

But it's all yours to rip to pieces.

The thing that I've realized in these past few days is that when I'm without you, I just feel empty. There's not any more humor, not any more lightness.

No more reason to look down the table in the Great Hall to see how you're holding up.

I would rather you take my heart and my vulnerability and my mind and tear it to pieces, rip it up into a thousand shreds, then to feel empty like this.

You can hurt me, Anneliese Callaway. You can hurt me and then heal me, like no one else can, because you know how to make me feel better just as well as you know how to aim a blow right where it hurts.

And I wouldn't even care because of how much I love you.

I love how you make me feel nervous and make me think with my heart instead of my mind as all of my caution flies out the window when I'm with you.

I love the way you can tell me off without hesitation and tell me directly to my face when I'm wrong without faltering like anyone else would have.

I love how your southern accent becomes more pronounced when you're angry.

I love the way that even after every single thing that you've been through before and after Hogwarts, you still push through with astonishing strength and keep your sights more forwards then backwards in a way that I will never be able to do.

I love that you give yourself tattoos with such detailed and precise artistry and how every single one of them has a deep meaning and a intriguing story behind them that I want to learn and memorize all of.

I love that we both make Queen references, that I finally have someone to share things like that with and exchange a glance across the room with while we try to hold in our laughs from everyone else.

I love how expressive your eyes are even when you try to hide your emotions in them, or how your cheeks always blush against your freckles and give you away even when you very obviously don't want them to.

I love how you're clever in the most unique way I've ever seen without textbooks and only the ability to track patterns and question theories.

I love how you're constantly proving me wrong and teaching me that there are ways to do things with kindness instead of reputation and force, like when you made an alliance with Peeves by simply asking him about himself.

I love how we can make each other so deeply angry and feel so strongly with every emotion, because that means that we care.

I love the flask you carry around on your leg, even if it has gotten the both of us in trouble quite a few times.

I love how whenever I'm with you, I can't anticipate what you're going to say or do out of the blue like I can with anyone else, yet I can somehow predict your reactions to very tiny, small things.

Like the way you trace your tattoo on the back of your left hand when you're nervous.

I even love that little dark green leather notebook of yours that shows the power of creation and the power that can come from trauma, finding a way to always make sure that you have a way to get your anger out besides hurting someone.

I know all of the warnings so many people have given you about me, the reputation I carry around with me that you detected immediately.

I would give it up if that's what it takes, Anneliese.

Fuck Hogwarts and all of the stupid people there who hurt you, I would sink to a social status lower than Snivellus for all that I care if it meant that you would finally let me love you and be happy with you at school.

A dozen cruel messages and tallys and rumors could be inflicted upon us, but none of it would matter because it would be us and you wouldn't have to be going through any of this alone anymore like I let you do for far too long.

All I want is us.

I know that you have that saying about the rough beginning, perfect middle, and disappointing end you've reminded me very forcefully of on multiple occasions.

I don't think that phrase was made for two people who have the same patrnous, smell one another in their amortentia, and have remarkably similar pasts that each can understand perfectly.

It wasn't made for two people who have battled through so much tension, so many stereotypes, and at least a dozen times where we found one another in tears to get to one single slow dance to ABBA underneath the stars.

It wasn't made for two people who balance each other out like we do.

You find the perfect way to keep me and my undeniable ego in line without fail while also having fun along the way. You know how to calm me down when I get into that uncontrollable anger at everything in the world.

In turn, I can help you.

I know how it feels to be not wanted by the people who are supposed to love you and support you unconditionally. I know how to pick up the tiny signs of discomfort that you show about your past. I know how to be that person who you can hold onto and do just the right things that I myself have longed for.

All I'm asking is that you let me be that person, you let yourself hold onto me.

Because I swear on everything, I'm not going anywhere.

Love,

Sirius

A knock at the apartment door sounded.

i hope the love letter lived up to expectations

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