Invisible Strings PV Closed

M.A.,

If you have returned to this particular place in time and returned to your book that has become a messenger, welcome back. I have found your letter and do wish to correspond through the written word that will be held secretively within the bounding of this mostly forgotten text.

On this particular day I have found myself mostly alone within not only the library walls but the castle itself, as most are out upon the Grounds enjoying an especially warm spring day. It is a glimpse of summer to come and it brings me much thought to our extended holiday and all that might bring. I'm looking forward to returning home but shall miss this home away from home that we call Hogwarts.

I'll be checking this book often and hope that it becomes our letter box of sorts - our own personal slot within an un-needed owlery. Tell me something about yourself - anything, big or small. Perhaps something that you wouldn't just up and tell someone right away.

Your information is safe with me,
S.K.

@Simon Kincaid

Her hands tainted with watercolor, Margaret slid her notebook back into her bag. There hadn't been a cloud in the sky today, and the small group of students that crowded the grounds seemed like a memory she'd like to remember. Sat in the shade, she had spent the last hour and a half trying to depict as realistically as possible the scene in front of her eyes onto her paper. This would be some precious information to show to her sister once she was back home, a glimpse of her everyday here, kilometers away from her.

On smaller pieces of papers, she had painted individual students, this girl laying in the sun, her pointed had hiding away her face, protecting her from the sun. Or this group of Gryffindors, twisting flowers in the hair of the person in front of them. She had also noticed this grey cat, sleeping among the grass, hidden to the distracted eyes. Small fragments of what her eyes witnessed, forever engraved onto a piece of paper she carried around with her. So many familiar faces, yet unnamed.

Unnamed... In an instant, the need to go to the library took a hold of her. What if someone had answered to her letter? Grabbing her bag, she ran across the corridors, up stairs, past yet another crowd of students. Out of breath, she finally got to the imposing wooden doors, where her quest lied ahead. Taking a few seconds to calm down, she pushed them to enter a different world altogether. The smell of books immediately made its way to her nose, and the silence was almost deafening. In a strange pace, right between walking fast and running, she made her way to the book. A quite mundane book, if you were to walk past it. But to her, it was the most interesting thing she'd see today. Grabbing it off the shelf, she felt her heart beat in joy when she noticed a piece of paper sticking out, a paper that wasn't hers. Delicately sliding it out, she quickly read the note in this unfamiliar handwriting.

S.K... S, as in... Susanna? Sarah? or maybe Sean? The mystery of it all was exhilarating. She sat down at the desk behind her, frantically grabbing her ink and quill out of her bag and immediately scribbling onto a blank piece of paper.

Dear S.K,

I must admit that I had hoped for someone to answer my letter as rapidly as you did. I do like the idea of this banal book becoming own owlery, and I hope that within those ink covered pages, we shall get to know each other. I have spent my day wandering in and out of the castle, staying in the shade like a lurking shadow, watching strangers walk past me. Being in the crowd, unknown and unseen is something I do quite enjoy. You get to be anyone, and no one. I find the anonymity thrilling, and most of all liberating.

As you can see, I have left a fragment of my day in this letter. I have always loved watercolor, the possibility of keeping a visual memory forever is relatively compelling. For a second my eyes shall be your eyes as I let you step in my shoes, a peek of where I stood. Perhaps you know some of the people drawn.

As for a secret, here's something I wouldn't tell anyone, surely not a strangers, but here goes. Growing up with our grandparents was our safe haven while our parents were busy for my sister and I. Four years ago, we moved back home, but living with our parents now feels strange. It's like being in a familiar place with people who feel like strangers. The closeness we once had seems different now, and it makes me feel unsure about where I fit in. Perhaps that is why trusting anyone seems harder now, like the possibility of being let down is at arms' reach.

Now, your turn to tell me a little secret. Tell me one thing you wished more people understood about you, big or small.

Until next time,
M.A

M.A.,

Let me begin by saying that your artwork is quite lovely. I've longed to have talents within the artistic realm that surpass what I have. You capture some of the beauty in Hogwarts, but it is my hope that in not just capturing it, you experience it yourself as well.

We vastly contrast in many ways, which I see already. While I should be condemned to the shadows, I more like to gravitate to the sunshine and not the limelight or the spotlight, but out and about. I enjoy getting to know others, truly getting to know others and finding ways in which I can help them make their lives easier, better, or brighter. I know that sounds a little cheesy but we're all on this planet together at this same point in time and I feel that is for reason. Any connection can be a good one and humanity can be a great thing when we all work together.

From an outsiders view on your current situation, if I could be so presumptuous as to offer any assistance at all - it sounds like perhaps your parents are what has thrown your lifestyle off. Perhaps your siblings are feeling the same way and you can find unity within them. I surely don't know - I never had any siblings myself although lots of friends and never lonely. I also got the benefit of having the greatest aunt do my upbringing who is still a solid support for me 'til this day and onward. I don't know what parental relationships are like either although I've been on a journey to discovering more about my father recently, having not known him for the first twelve years of my life.

It's not so much a secret. But that - my father; I wish others understood how deeply this need to know him is. They understand it enough because they let me have a connection with him and I'm grateful but like my aunt, I wish that she would allow me more time with him. There's just something about in knowing more about him and his type which is half of my existance, perhaps I will know more about myself. Or maybe I just want some connection with a parent since I lost my mother so young and cannot remember her.

I don't know. Maybe I'm just trying to find my place in this world. Maybe I'm often so wrapped up in others and helping them because I'm not quite sure exactly who I am. I think, once I get a good grasp for this part of me, then I'll be ready to fly.

All sounds rather hokey, doesn't it? It's alright to admit that it does. But aren't we all just truly trying to find ourselves? I think I've got a pretty good grasp on that these days and I'm excited for the future. I want to graduate, get married, go into the field of magical medicine, and have a big family. What about you, M.A.? What are your hopes and dreams?

-S.K.