Disclaimer: I own nothing. Anything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling. Thank you.
I'll never forget the first time I truly saw you. You hadn't yet noticed me and were reading under a tree. Your face was so peaceful as you read, like your concentration wasn't being taxed whatsoever by the text. I so rarely saw that face. You always concentrated on me. But there, thinking yourself alone, I saw the boy you were and the man you were to be. Quiet, studious, intelligent, opinionated. Not unlike myself in many ways.
Then again, that is what brought us here. Our similarities. The friendship we once had. Childhood notions that were so beautiful, yet so naive. At times, I wonder why we even tried. Did you feel it too? We were doomed from the start.
I know you think I don't remember - or you hope that I will not remember, when we were fifteen and you kissed me...my cheek, at least. I regret running instead of facing you. The things going through my head at that moment were terrifying me. Not only did I want you to kiss me, but I wanted you to want me. But you were my best friend. That relationship was so important to me, I was afraid to risk it. My first reaction was that it didn't happen, Sev. So I left. I needed time to think about it...you shocked me. Plus, I had never kissed a boy--I was nervous. I did not want to leave you there and I am sorry I did. By no means, did I deserve to be called mudblood for it!
I cared so deeply for you. I was so tired of holding it in. I still am. I miss you.
So with my broken heart and your nasty slur in my ears, I turned to the first open arms available. How ironic that it was James Potter. Well, maybe not. My close relationship with you caused me to sometimes neglect my other friendships and you must realize who paid me the most attention (at the time) besides yourself. You pushed us together, Sev. Don't beat yourself up for it. There are plenty of worse men I could have selected, even by your standards. Besides, one of you had to win the war. I am sorry it wasn't you, though.
Remember that one night seventh year? I was patrolling and caught you out walking alone. You didn't apologize profusely as before, but were kind and friendly with me. My guard came down and there was a lull in the conversation. I remember looking into your face and I was surprised at how thin, how pale you were. Your dark eyes were sparkling and just the ends of your mouth was turned up in an almost smile.
"Can I show you something?" you asked me, grabbing my hand.
I shrugged, trying to be cool about all of it, and we set off down the hall. You grabbed a tapestry and we slipped behind it. It was so dark, there was no difference between eyes open and shut. You grabbed me and pulled me against you. You felt so thin.
You interrupted and I know you had thought of this line in advance. "Will you scream if I kiss you?"
The question startled me. It was both cute and enticing. Especially there in the dark. My fingers found your face by moving up your neck and your hands went to my face and you kissed me. You lips were thin, but moved in an interesting manner I have never encountered before (as if only one other man could be considered vast experience). No one else has ever held me the way you did. Your hands tightly holding me against you as you leaned against the wall. It must have been awkward for you, but you never complained, just held me tight and kissed me. Thank you.
That moment was so cute, so erotic...I can't help but think of that stolen moment over and over. Your hand under my robe, rubbing my lower back under my shirt, while the other held me against your lean body. I missed you then so much, it must have been evident in the way I kissed you.
I don't know if you chose the darkness for it's ability to hide us or it's ability to hide you from me, but I wish I could have seen your face. I would like to think you would have been happy, but I would bet you would have been sad. It would be difficult to part after spending such intimate moments together. At the time, I did not think of that. I was thinking, why did we never do this before?
Because we are both too stubborn, too proud.
I hope you understand then, when I mention the last time we met. Without the threat of Hogwarts looming, the summer felt strange. I wasn't sure if I would run into you around the neighborhood or what, but eventually I did. It was the hottest day of the summer and I had run through our sprinklers before heading for the river to read. Honestly, I think deep inside, I was hoping to see you, as it was far warmer by the river than inside my house. That day, when I saw you, I was so nervous I thought I might throw up. You seemed so cool and calm. That made me angry. Like you didn't care.
So I lashed out. "What do you want?" I asked you and I knew that I was being stupid and petty and immature. You just looked at me, unintimidated, and sat beside me. It was not "our" tree, but it felt familiar all the same.
"By now you realise the situation," I said softly, maybe hoping to atone for the bad attitude displayed before. "I still miss you."
You weren't speaking, but grasped my hand and held it, rubbing my knuckles, exactly the way I showed you when we were ten. It felt quite nice. Honestly, Sev, it wasn't like I needed a seduction scene.
But you shut me up with a sweet kiss and we tangled together under the tree. I know I was the first woman to let you make love to her. I'll always have that. I own a piece of you. I own something that was a part of you until you were eighteen years old. How fitting. Those years belonged to me anyway.
So yes, we both know it was not my first time, but it was good by any standards and thanks to my patience and your desire to please, I think we managed quite well. Too bad it was only once. Please feel free to try the things you learned with me on whomever you desire. I would like to think you can learn something from me besides how not to have a friendship.
On that note, I must tell you something you will not want to hear. I do not praise your sexual prowess (above) because of what I tell you. I have no regrets about that afternoon and I truly hope you don't either.
I am marrying James.
My empathic powers tell me you are unhappy. I am sorry. I wish I could split myself and make you both happy. I have no desire to hurt you. I want you happy. I want you smiling and loved and full of life. Please. Forget me. For the love of our shared past, let me go.
It kills me to write this because I love you and miss you and need you, but you need to forget me, Severus.