Title: I Can't Listen to Jazz Anymore

Author: Chosentwo4381

Email: chosentwo4381@yahoo.com

Feedback: Would make me happy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Archiving: List sites, the Realm, and ff.net. Anyone else just ask.


I almost packed this away in a box in the bottom of my trunk, in the same place where I keep all your other letters. I thought it was going to be one of those letters; you know the ďitís been so long since the break up and we were friends beforeĒ sort of letter that talks about life now and asks how you are, and brings all the pain to the forefront because it attempts to erase everything you had before.

So I almost didnít read it. And part of me wishes that I hadnít, because even though it wasnít one of those letters, it was in many ways worse.

It opened up so many old wounds Hermione. Iíd finally managed to forget in the course of everyday life that my brother doesnít really trust me anymore because his best friend thought she saw something and didnít give me a chance to explain before breaking my heart. You should know by the way, that Hannah and Luna are still together; that ring Iíd been helping Lu pick out looks marvelous on Hannah.

Also, you shouldnít have assumed that I didnít know that you had moved on. Donít say you havenít, because you have, even if you fancy yourself still enamored of me. It wasnít Ron that told me though. As I said, he doesnít trust me really, and barely speaks to me when heís home, which isnít that often. I heard from Percy actually. I was home for Easter holidays and he was blithering on about the most recent ministry function that heíd been in charge of organizing and mentioned your date. He was quite bewildered when the twins hexed him for making me cry. Oblivious is my brother Percy.

After we broke up (I hate that phrase, it makes it sound like I had a choice in the matter) I thought Iíd be ecstatic to find out that you still loved me and wanted me back. Now Iím not so sure.

You say I know you and she doesnít. Itís true, I know you better than I know myself. Or perhaps I should say knew you, or thought I did. I knew that in the mornings you took your tea with no cream, one spoonful of sugar, and a squeeze of lemon, but in the evenings while studying in the common room you preferred it with a dollop of cream and two sugars, no lemon because it was more relaxing that way. I knew that if you bit your lip while working on an essay it meant that you were having one of your intuitive breakthroughs that always seemed to wow every professor except Snape, but if you were chewing on your quill something not related to academics at all was intruding on your studious thoughts.

I thought I knew your every expression, but that morning when you came to my dormitory with that inscrutable expression on your face and told me that you had seen me with Luna and it was over. I realized that I didnít know you at all. There was nothing in your face that day that reminded me of the woman I loved and thinking of that now I know that Iíll never really know you again. Which makes us even I suppose, since you obviously didnít know me if you believed for one second that I would even consider infidelity.

So here is my response, and quite likely the end of our correspondence. Iím single, not that it matters and Dean Thomas painted a portrait of me at the end of your last year. Itís a remarkable likeness and Iím surprised you didnít hear about it as it was part of his application portfolio for the Magical Artists Guild and is currently on display with several of his other works in the Ministry Galleryís Young Artists Wing.

Be happy with Elise, Hermione. I canít give you anymore of me. I still love you, part of me always will, and even if wanted to Iíd not do anything about that, loving you taught me valuable lessons.


Virginia Weasley

PS- I canít listen to jazz anymore; you took its beauty away from me.


Harry Potter

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