An Ocean Away PV M.Macedo

By this point in the school year, Illowy had become nearly unreachable to most people. Most being the operative word. While she was actively avoiding the majority of the school and it's staff, she was still ever on the look out for post from one very special young lass on the other side of the world. As the time ticked away to being closer to when she would expect the letter, she often found herself wondering when she would make her trek to and from the Owlry.

How might things be different if Manu was at the school? She wondered if she feel as consumed by her own mind if the girl was nearer. Would Illowy avoid her the way she avoided her friends? Brush her off or even ignore her? Illowy could be a cold person, and even worse when she found herself in state such as what she was in currently. At present, the letters were the only things acting as some level of grounding... maybe she found it easier because she could hide behind the letters. After all, in a messed up sort of way, Manu could only know or sense what Illowy allowed her to through the letters. If she kept up being prompt in answering, if she answered cheerfully and kept the notes light and hopeful, there was no way for the other to suspect Illowy was anything but those things. Promp. Lively. Poised. Cheerful. Happy.

Illowy couldn't put a name to how she was feeling now as she sulked about the castle from day to day, but she was sure happy wasn't what one would call it. She wondered if Manu would even keep up answering if she knew the way the young snake actually was; if she knew the rumours of her frigid and brutal reputation. Perhaps...maybe that wouldn't matter. Maybe she would be different with the other there to cheer her. But maybe... probably not. Propably by now, history would have repeated itself and Illowy, like the coward she was, would have run away. Again.

She had a lovely habit of self-sabotage when something was going well in her life. She was a pro at either running people off or taking them down with her. Perhaps it was best to stay in the bubble, to let herself believe Manu wouldn't care, she'd still like her...well, at least enough to be her friend. It wasn't safe to get her hopes up the other might ever think more of her then just a friend.

These were the thoughts that swirled her mind as she climbed the tower steps, feeling her heart lighten for the first time in weeks when she found a green inked letter waiting for her there. The girl rush back in into the cold, holding her letter tight in a mittened hand lest the wind try to steal the bit of happiness from her. Once she was safe and warm back in the privacy of her dorm room, she snuggled up with Killian, the over glorified puffball making himself comfy in her lap as she tore open the letter.

My most dear Illowy. It made a lovely flutter in her chest to read something so tender. Surely it was only meant as a friendly endearment, but for a moment, she'd let herself think otherwise as her pale eyes flicked over the words. She smiled reading that Manu was still ever happy to receive her letters before starting in about the holidays again and talking about the traditions they celebrated that her mother brought from Argentina. Did she know where Argentina was? No, but she could make an educated guess. The comment about Manu putting gifts in her shoes was a bit strange, but Illowy figured there was some kind of special meaning behind it. What judgment should she have about it, coming from a country that greets lone magpies lest bad luck fall upon them?

At the mention of her father, Illowy paused a moment, having forgotten she'd even mentioned seeing her Da. He wasn't someone she talked about often, and with good reason; but that was quickly forgotten at the suggestion that one year she will have to come to Brazil to spend the Holiday. Now that was a daydream worth having. Illowy had been to many places around Europe, but she'd never been across the Atlantic before.

The daydream would have to wait as Manu finally explained the source of her bitterness in her last two letters, talking about the rumours and such started by the same antagonist that had been the reason the two girls even met in the first place. On the one hand, she was grateful he existed if only to be the means to having met Manu, but on the other fist... the lad ought to count his lucky star that it was Manu that got to him before Illowy could. Though Illowy wished it hadn't come to such a boiling point, she couldn't fault the other. If the roles were reversed, Illowy would have lost her temper well before the holiday.

There came a bit of ease to her bitterness as Manu commented about how the healer at her school was nothing compared to Illowy herself. Certainly not true, after all Illowy wasn't known for having a knack for being a healer, but the sentiment was sweet and warm and made her cheeks flush bright. Probably the most colour her skin had seen in weeks as Manu went on in her letter, showering her with the sweetest compliments and reassurances in herself as well as Illowy. There was a comfort in knowing someone thought so well of her, believed in her so much, and that had took comfort in the words she'd sent.

It left a bittersweet taste in her mouth as she pulled the letter to her chest and let her head fall back to stare up at the velvety green canopy of her bedcurtains. How well Manu thought of her... it felt almost like a lie, letting the other think of her so capable and compassionate and lovely. It didn't occur to Illowy that the girl wriggling further into her heart with each mossy green word, might see something in her that she wasn't able to see herself.

Illowy lifted her head again to read it again, studying each sentence, every stroke and smudge of a hand brushing wet ink. Though in her studying, keen eyes noticed the difference in color on a couple light streaks. Weeks of air exposure darkened the smudges, but if there was one thing Illowy was familiar with the sight of, it was blood. Even old, oxidized blood... how sad a fifteen year old girl should be so familiar with such a thing. Her thumb lightly brushed over the smudge, wondering for a moment if it was Manu's blood, or from the poor bastard on the receiving end of her fist.

Never mind, she wanted to still hang onto this warm feeling of Manu's good opinion of her before her own mind absolutely ruined it. Gently setting Killian aside, Illowy went to her desk. There was a moment of hesitation, a moment where she wondered if she should be honest in her letters, confess the darkness in her own mind and reject the sweet compliments offered to her so lovingly... perhaps a gamble in openness and vulnerability would pay off... or it would backfire horribly and she'd never hear from the other again.

Whatever. Pen to paper. She still had to respond, she needed to respond and hold onto this moment of happiness while it lasted. Such a rare blessing shouldn't be wasted or gambled away.

Saturday,
11 February, 2023

Dearest Manu,
In the middle of a frigid, snowy winter, receiving your letter today warmed me.

I admit I don't understand or know much about the traditions that you were talking about, but I don't doubt they must be wonderful and I hope you'll tell me all about them one day. I think the idea of spending a holiday there would be incredibly fun and exciting. Honestly, I've been to a lot of places around Europe, but I've never crossed the Atlantic before, so it would be an amazing adventure to see everything!

I hate that you were put in the position to fight, but if I'm being truly honest, I would have done the same thing. You lasted longer then I would have putting up with such nonsense for months! With my temper, I wouldn't have made it a week. I do wish that I was there to patch you up though. You weren't hurt badly or anything were you? If you were I might just have to hold onto the owl myself and have it bring me to Brazil to knock some sense into the lad.

I do appreciate your sweet words, and I'm glad mine brought you comfort. You are right, it is best to simply show the power you have when you must, and you must be unwavering. Especially in a world like it is today where there is sometimes no room to be anything less then resolute and brutal when your hand is forced to strike. However, you're a clever witch. I imagine one day, your words and passion will move mountains faster then any spell might.

I wish I had more to tell about what is going on at Hogwarts. Truely, there isn't much to report aside from exams and essays and all such boring things. Lots of snow. Lots of cold. I'm so ready for spring to arrive. Scottish winters can be miserably cold, but it is fun watching the younger students playing out and decorating the ground with their various snow creations.

Hopefully by the time this letter finds you, things have begun turning for the better for you and straightening itself out. I do hope you're thinking about coming back to Scotland for summer camp again. It would be wonderful to see you again and properly talk without a month having to go between conversations. Seeing your face and hearing your voice again would cheer me greatly.

Please, be safe. Try not to kill that lad before I might get my hands on him and let him have a taste of that Irish temper we're so famous for! And make sure you are taking care of yourself.

I hope to see you soon.

Yours,
Illowy Magnard

Illowy tapped the far end of her glass dip pen against her desk as she read over the letter. Why was she feeling as though she were forgetting something? The girl chewed her lip as she read over her letter again. Had she forgotten to mention something? No, she'd purposefully not commented again about her father or her family. She said she'd like to come for a holiday one day... what was she forgetting???

Icy eyes lifted up to the beginning again. Saturday, the 11th of February 2023... yes, she'd written the year right- wait. The 11th of February? Valentines Day was coming up. Did Manu even have Valentines Day in her country? She certainly couldn't know, but should she... should she send something?? Was that too forward? What if Manu thought she was trying to be, like, couple-y without them even being a couple? Of course friends still got each other cards, so it should be fine right? It was innocent enough right? Did she even have a card to give?

The snake quickly started sifting through her desk, trying to find something remotely okay. She could always go to Madame Paddifoot's, there were tons of Valentines Day-y things there, but at this hour, they'd be closed. She didn't want to put off sending the letter either until the tea shop was open again either.

Her eyes drifted to her travel sketchbook before snatching it up and flipping through the various images of drawing and watercolour paintings. Something. Anything. AH HA! It was a watercolour she'd done last spring of some of the flowers by the greenhouses. Surely that would work right? Not too romantic-ish, but still something nice. Flowers were nice and friendly, and it was one of her better little paintings in her own opinion. Yes, yes, it would do.

Illowy carefully tore the small painting free from the book before carefully cutting around the edges until it made a simple heart, then turned it over to the back, grabbing her pen once more.

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I'm incredibly lucky
To know someone like you.

Happy Valentine's Day!
~Illowy

Short... painfully uncreative, but it would have to do. After all, she never claimed to be a writer or a poetess.

She then pulled the letter back to herself, adding a quick postscript beneath her signature.

P.S. I wasn't sure if you celebrated, but I hope you had a wonderful Valentine's Day!

No overthinking. No overthinking, she thought to herself over and over again as she folded up her letter and tucked it into the envelope along with the little valentine, taking care everything was perfect and correct. No overthinking, just get your ass to the Owlry and try not to bust your butt on the way.

Writing as Manuela Macedo from Castelobruxo.

“If I seem nocturnal and imperfect, look at me again.
Because tonight, I looked at myself, as if you were looking at me.”
—Hilda Hilst, Brazilian poet, "Ten Appeals to a Friend"

Manu's year had finally begun to look up. By late February, many of her peers had forgotten about the cruel rumours spread about her in December and the fight in January, giving her a welcome reprieve from being the center of attention for once. She focused on her duels and her studies, counting down the days of her detention and double chores - not because she wanted to get out of the extra workload, though that was certainly part of it, but because she knew that when the month of punishment was up, her next letter from Illowy would have arrived.

Manu was working on making everything perfect. She couldn't quite call herself a perfectionist - maybe next year - but she was certainly working to get the life she wanted, a life that could prove to those that doubted her that Manu Macedo was not to be fucked with. From doubling down on ensuring proper pronunciation and wand movements for her spells to practicing Ch'olti' every day at the lunch table, she worked so hard that the passage of time became almost meaningless.

Every day became the same. Every hour blurred together, until, finally, a crack in her shell in late February, the very day after her month of extra chores ceased - Illowy's letter, arriving early in the morning before classes this time instead of late at night like usual, and feeling a bit heavier than usual, too.

And then, suddenly, the day was no longer the same. Classes didn't blur together or speed on, but instead, stretched out into an eternity of waiting - at least for the first thirty minutes. After that half-hour ticked slowly by, Manu quickly realised that if she didn't read Illowy's letter now, she wouldn't have the opportunity until she returned to her lodgings after duelling practice and field work that evening. So, in the middle of her Divination elective (a difficult and perhaps too whimsical class for Manu, but necessary if she wanted to take Astronomy next year in the Superior levels of her education), Manu softly eased the letter out of her satchel and, without looking, under her desk, slid a finger between the flaps of the envelope to tug it open as quietly as she could, lest she alert the professor that she was doing something other than studying the bones on the desk in front of her.

Her mission succeeded, and Manu surreptitiously tucked Illowy's purple letter between the pages of her Divination textbook, then propped the whole thing up so that no one would be able to see that she wasn't actually reading about bone throwing and its uses as a divinatory art.

Dearest Manu...

...receiving your letter today warmed me...

...I might just have to hold onto the owl myself and have it bring me to Brazil...

...move mountains faster then any spell...

...would be wonderful to see you again...

Yours.

Manu's breath hitched as she read the last word immediately before Illowy's signature, and she continued to hold air in her lungs as she read it again, and again, and again; yours. Hers. The "yours" signoff didn't quite exist in Portuguese the same way it did in English, but it was close enough to a regular love-letter signoff that she got the gist.

Her heart quickened, and Manu found herself completely focused in on the letter. What did Illowy mean by that? Between the dearest and the yours and the want to see her again, it certainly seemed that the Slytherin girl was similarly reciprocating the affections that Manu was sending her way. But then again, she didn't want to be too forward and risk losing Illowy forever. Those Hogwarts kids certainly weren't as brash or brazen or audacious as the children of Brazil, and treading that line could be dangerous.

Still, a bit of harmless flirting wouldn't hurt anyone, especially if Illowy continued to do it back... right? Or were all the Irish this sweet to their friends?

She hadn't met enough Irish to be able to tell.

Tuesday
28th February
2023

My most dear Illowy,
I forget that you are suffering in a winter, there in Ireland. Here, it is summer, so we are experiencing the most hot months in all of the year. I hope that this letter brings you the heat of Brazil from far away. Maybe you could send me some snows.

That you have not travelled to our nation is no surprise. I had never travelled outside of Brazil, other than into Argentina rarely to visit my mother's family, until

A sharp rap on her desk startled Manu, dragging her quill across her parchment in a shocked smear of emerald ink; she'd waited until getting to her Language class for that semester, Quechua (Ch'olti' had been last semester), to start writing the response to Illowy, seeing as how she had more of an excuse to be writing in this class than in Divination or the Charms that followed. But, apparently, she'd been caught.

"Manuela," drawled the voice of her Quechua professor. "Qam qillqachkanki, ichaqa mana quechuapichu..." You are writing, but not in Quechua...

With a groan, Manu forked over the parchment and returned to her classwork. But her mind couldn't help but drift to dark hair and icy eyes...

Tuesday
28th February
2023

My most dear Illowy,
I forget that you are suffering from winter in the Ireland. Here, it is summer, so we are experiencing the hottest months of the entire year. I hope this letter brings you the warmth of the Brazil from afar. Maybe you can send to me some snows.

The fact that you have not traveled to our country is not surprising. I had never traveled outside of the Brazil, except for the Argentina rarely to visit my mother's family, until arriving at the camp last summer. I travelled to escape the cold of the winter here in the Brazil, because your seasons are opposite in the United Kingdom. I should enjoy very much to journey more in the future, maybe with an excellent partner in travel like you.

About the fight, there is no motive to worry. I only earned a month of more chores and detention, which ended yesterday. I used that as a count down for your letter, and here are you! Bem good/well, not you, it is clear. I would like for you to come here by owl, fold yourself into a letter to join me in the Castelobruxo. I think you would do good here. And I would adore to have support in a fight, but I would hate for seeing you be hurt.

The manner you have with writing is very soft and calming, as well as your hands, when you take care of someone. It is clear that you care so deeply about the people around you, and I am grateful for that to know you. The world seems a safer place with you in it. I want to move the mountains one day in the future, like what you say, but you are the sun that lights the way.

You are brilliant, Illowy. I am very lucky to be knowing you.

To speak about knowing you, if you ask for me to attend the camp, I will come. For what I hear, few people from the Castelobruxo are going this year. Specifically the people that I would like to leave behind for whatever reason are staying home. Imagine the type of conversations we could have when we meet again. I see your smile every day on my wall, but your light could illuminate me even more outside the photograph.

All this to say that I will be going to sign up for the camp as soon as the list is published here. Anyway, I have a vendetta to take part in, a duel I will like to win this time. And I have another friend at Hogwarts other than yourself, I will like to see that she is all right. My letters to her go unanswered.

Why will my voice cheer you? You are able to tell me if something is wrong and you need happiness. I would listen to you any day.

We will see each other again.

Waiting for that day,
Manu Macedo

Manu finally got a chance to finish her letter to Illowy during lunch, having sheepishly collected the half-finished correspondence from her Quechua teacher after class and endured a ten-minute lecture on the importance of paying attention to her lessons. It wasn't like she was failing or something - she was still top of her class - but, hell, she'd let a grade or two slip if it meant talking to the girl on the other side of the world.

The girl who was hers, apparently, but also was not, in a very distinct divide.

The fact that Illowy needed to be cheered worried Manu as she tracked down the owl, who had taken to the skies in wait, during lunch and affixed the letter to its leg. Hopefully, the next letter would come full of happiness and laughter, and whatever was troubling Illowy would be gone. Or it could be something that Manu could punch from close to six thousand miles away.

The owl hooted and began to flap off; Manu, grinning, immediately reopened the envelope of Illowy's to reread her letter. This time, however, she hadn't just been rooting for the letter itself under her desk without looking, and she noticed the little something extra in the envelope. She pulled it out to reveal a beautifully painted and meticulously detailed watercolour masterpiece, eyes devouring it before finding the poem on the back.

Caralho! Fuck!

"Wait. Wait!" she cried out after the owl, waving her arms and making hooting sounds at its disappearing form in the blue skies above. "No, come back! I've more to send!"

The owl did not respond to her, and Manu slumped in disappointment, her shoulders pressing down as if forced to by a great weight. Great job, Manu. Now Illowy would think she’d ignored her sweet message and not given her anything for Valentine’s in return. They didn’t really celebrate Valentine’s Day in Brazil - instead, the Brazilian version was known as the Dia dos Namorados Partners’ Day and was celebrated in June. But Manu knew what it was anyway, because they did celebrate on February 14th in Argentina, which usually led to her mother celebrating then and her father waiting until the winter.

She would have loved to have found something, anything, to send back across the ocean for the girl who was stealing her heart more and more by the day. But it seemed that romance was not in the cards - or, perhaps, the bones - for Manu quite yet.

A soft hooting sound in front of her disagreed.

Manu’s head snapped up to see the owl from Hogwarts, her newly scrawled letter affixed to its leg, landing on the ground in front of her. The ink of Illowy’s name on the envelope not yet even dry. With a delighted yelp of relief and glee, Manu pounced forward and scooped the owl up into a hug.

“You magnificent creature,” she cooed, even as it hooted and flapped frantically to escape from her embrace. “Do you think you can wait til night to deliver that? I have something else to include…”

I am no poet, my dear, especially not in your language. But there is a poet here, in mine, that I always enjoy. I try here to translate them to the English for you.

She is called by Hilda Hilst, and these poems are parts of a love story called by ‘Ten Appeals to a Friend’. I include only fragments, because the full poem is very long:

1
If I seem nocturnal and imperfect
Look at me again.
Because tonight
I looked at myself, as if you were looking at me.
…
Look at me again. With less haughtiness.
And more attentive.

2
Love me. It is still time. Ask me.
And I will tell you that our time is now.
Splendid loftiness, vast adventure
For vaster is the dream that elaborates

For so long its own weaving.
Love me. Though I seem to you
Too intense. And harsh.
And transient if you think me again.

3
If I am given the chance to remake time
I would make my face a parable
A net of honey, a craft of magic

And in that enchanted bookshop
Where rare friends smiled on me
Where to my eyes you were tower and wheat

My whole courage of Poetry
Took you. Adventure, friend,
So extreme and wide

And contented amavio love would have been.

4
My measure? Love.
And your mouth on mine
Immersed.

My shame? The verse
Burning. And my face
Reverse of one who dreams.
…
My wealth? Seek
Obstinate, your presence
In everything: July, August
…
In every corner of the House
Vehement evidence
Of your face.

It reminds me of you. I hope that you enjoyed. Happy Día de San Valentín St. Valentine’s Day for you, in addition.

Yours,
M

Manu wasn’t an artist, so some poetry from a book from the library would have to do in regards to a gift. She had always liked Hilda Hilst, a twentieth-century writer from São Paulo whose poems were mostly too obscene to send to Illowy, but who had a few on love and power that Manu did enjoy greatly.

That night, having borrowed the book and copied the poetry onto another piece of parchment, Manu sealed that into a separate envelope and gave it to the very well-fed owl, who had been happily snapping up the treats she’d taken to keeping in her desk as a reward for saving her from any further embarrassment when it came to Illowy. It left into the night, seemingly pausing for a moment outside her window to make sure she wasn’t going to yell for it to come back a second time, then vanishing into the black sky.

As for Manu, she just turned to hang Illowy’s painting on the wall above her bed. It was a true internal struggle for a moment, the decision on whether to hang the poem facing out or the painting, but after a second the painting won out.

She could always keep the poem to herself, a little secret. Her roommates already knew of her pen pals in England - they didn’t need to know any further weaknesses of hers. Especially not those of the heart.

@Illowy Magnard

Illowy had been able to ride that high of nervous excitement around sending off the Valentine well until after the Holiday. She wondered if Manu liked it, she wondered if she should have put more time and thought into the poem as opposed to having sent such a generic, quick bit of lyric for the sake of just getting the letter out quickly. It felt painful, the idea of waiting to reply to her Manu, and she couldn't help but want to reply back as quickly as possible so that she might get a response back as quickly as possible. The sooner the letter was gone from her hand, the sooner it meant the countdown could start. Perhaps in another way, she was using the number of letters to count down when this miserable year would finally end.

It wasn't so much that anything bad had happened to her, it was simply that she couldn't find the drive to care. The most her motivation allowed her to do was keep up with her grades. Those she could never allow to slip, but with little else to occupy her mind and time outside of her correspondence, it allowed her far too much time to sit with her thoughts and that wasn't a pleasant place to be. There were too many dark thoughts swirling around her mind that corrupted every good thing that might happen during the day, too many traumatic memories that felt like they captured her body, mind and soul every time she recalled them; playing through each like a movie she couldn't look away from.

The girl was becoming an island unto herself; little was able to reach her and less was able to rescue her.

This day, classes seemed to drag on miserably, and was made even more dramatic by the rainy weather they'd been having as spring began its approach. That seemed like the only bright things lately, the prospect of spring. She could go out by the lake again, sit in the sun and try to draw or paint. She could have some peace and quiet away from the buzz of her house or the library. Her thoughts also wandered to Manu, thinking about the comments she'd made about loving to take runs in the rain out in the jungle. Granted, Illowy couldn't see herself going for runs in the rain, she imagined the rain in Brazil was much warmer then the rains of the Scottish Highlands, but it was a way to live vicariously through another who found peace through such a method.

During her free period, the snake decide to trek through such rain to the Owlry, just on the off chance that perhaps maybe the letter finally arrived. After all, she'd been expecting it should be coming soon soon. Thankfully, she was rewarded for her journey with not one, but two envelopes of emerald green lettering addressed to her and in the moment, it felt like the sun had arrived again as she hurried down the steps to find some place to tuck herself away to read the piece.

The quiet corner she'd chosen was a window sill off one of the side corridors where there was little foot traffic as she dropped her back on the floor and unfolded the first letter which seemed to have been the first of the set as it was started normally.

My most dear Illowy

Was it only her imagination or was each addressment becoming more and more tender? Her pale eyes scanned over the letter, thumb brushing the place where the pen scratched the paper, leaving behind a jagged line of ink. She could only imagine what happened there, but carried on reading. Musings of perhaps traveling together one day, reassruences that at the time of writing there had been no really worry levels of retalliation for the fight aside from typical punishment which had ended by the time her last letter had arrived.

I would like for you to come here by owl, fold yourself into a letter to join me in the Castelobruxo... And I would adore to have support in a fight, but I would hate for seeing you be hurt.

Illowy smiled, her cheeks flushing as she wondered if Manu truly meant such a sentiment. What would everything be life if she had found herself at Castelobruxo and not at Hogwarts. How different would things have been? Would she had been happier? It was also an amusing, though touching, thought of Manu being upset to see her hurt after a fight. If anything, part of Illowy had been itching for one. Just three hits; someone hitting her, then her hitting them and them hitting the floor. A moment to feel something after months of numbness. That had always been one of her favorite things about duelings was how it sparked her alive. Illowy might've come off as small and delicate, but goddamn if she couldn't take a hit and hit back harder.

It is clear that you care so deeply about the people around you...
I am grateful for that to know you...
The world seems a safer place with you in it...
You are the sun that lights the way...

The sweetest words she thought anyone had ever said to her in her whole life. This whole letter was bathed in such tenderness and affection to a degree that none of the others had quiet reached. They were friendly of course, with plenty of moments in which Illowy poured over trying to decipher the meaning of Manu's quips and comments; and perhaps it was her love starved mind that was adding a velvet tone over each sweet word, but she would have sworn it read as though Manu truly quite fancied her... at the very least liked her and cared very much for her.

If you ask for me to attend the camp, I will come.

Please come, she thought to herself, smiling softly. A smile with only grew more as the letter commented about Manu seeing her smile every day in the photograph she'd sent, how it would make her happier to see the snake's smile in person. Illowy could reciprocate that feeling. Many a late night had been spent looking at Manu's photo, wondering what she was doing or thinking, wondering if words were going to forever only be contained to a page or if she'd actually see the other again. She hoped she would. There was comfort in a promise as Manu assured she'd sign up as soon as put out the sheet for it. Just three months. Illowy would only have to wait three months until July to see the girl again. She could hold out for three months.

Her smile faltered towards the end of the letter as Manu inquired if something was wrong. Had her poor state bled into the letter without her notice? She tried to recall what she might've written to give such a thing away. That hadn't been her intention, that wasn't the side of her she wanted Manu to be privy to; the worst side of her. Illowy made the mental note that she'd need to take care to reassure the other that everything was fine, that there was no need to worry.

And that was the end of the letter... no mention of her Valentine or thoughts about the painting she'd sent. Perhaps she'd misinterpreted the intentions and tone of the letter... perhaps she'd only been fooling herself into thinking... no matter. She needed to get onto her next class. She would read the second letter when she returned to the House for the night. After all, she could only imagine what might be inside, and she'd really rather not bring her own mood down any further.

Thus, she sulked through her day, arguably a bit more miserable then usual as she followed her typical routine of keeping distance and muddling through whatever social interactions she was forced to until the day was over and she could retreat to the sanctuary of her dorm while the rest of the house made their way to dinner. She'd grab something in a bit after she replied to the letter since, regardless of whether Manu acknowledged her gift or not, she still wanted to write back and try to recover whatever bit of her dignity she might've lost with such a gesture.

Illowy tossed her bag on her trunk at the foot of her bed, letters already in hand, before sitting at her desk. She dropped the already opened first letter on the worn wood next to her inkwell, then turned her attention to the unopened second letter. What might've been inside was anyone's guess, and she shuddered at the possibility it might've been something negative as she carefully prying the letter open, chewing her lip anxiously as she began reading.

To her relief, it was hardly the rejection she was expecting as her pale eyes drank in the poem that Manu had translated for her. Illowy hardly was a student of poetry, but she still smiled as she read it, occasionally murmuring lines she liked particularly as though testing how the words fell off her tongue and wondering how the same lines might've sounded in their original language. What they would sound like off Manu's tongue if she recited them to her. Merlin know's Illowy wouldn't be able to understand a lick of it, but she imagined the sentiment still would sound just as sweet and swoony.

Certainly it pulled her mood back up as she slid the poem aside and retrieved her own stationary, her pen quickly gliding along the page for her response.

Monday
13 March, 2023

Dearest Manu,

I can't recall a time I ever loved a poem so much. Thank you for sending that to me! It makes me wonder about the rest, so you'll have to show me one day, and hopefully you'll read me a bit in your language. I like the idea of knowing what it's suppose to sound like.

I'm not sure how much snow might be left in the season for me to send to you, but there is plenty of rain now that spring is approaching. The rain makes me think of you too, how you told me you enjoy going for run through the forest when it rains. Though I feel like your rain is probably a lot warmer then the rain we have right now. This rain will chill you down to the bone, so its not the best idea to be out in it longer then you have to. But it is nice to listen to if you're in the library. We can't ever hear the storms in the Slytherin House though because its technically under the Lake, but sometimes we can see the lightening or hear the thunder if its especially loud.

I think I should like to see the rainforest though, and see what its like there one day. I think you would be a perfect traveling partner. Perhaps once I've settled into my vocation and you've finish up your schooling, we can find a place to explore together. I'm not sure where, but there is a whole world of options.

I'm also glad to hear that you've already finished up your punishment and things are settling back down again for you. I wonder sometimes what your school is like compared to Hogwarts. It seems so different and I wonder how differing things might've been sometimes if I hadn't come here. But as for fighting, you'll have to trust me that I don't get hurt easily. If anything, I think I become more alive after taking a hit. It sparks me in a fight and I'm able to fight harder. Or maybe that's a silly thing to say and I'm just all hot blood once I've been set off. Either way, I wouldn't let you worry about me. I'm a lot tougher then I look, I promise.

It will make me incredibly happy to see you again. As much as I enjoy the photo you sent me, I'd love more to see you in person. Especially if it meant seeing you duel. Who is it you're trying to get ahold of that isn't answering your letters? If I know them, I will try to see if I can check in on them if you'd like.

Now came the more difficult part where her pen hesitated a moment. To be honest with her penpal or to try to salvage the pretty mirage she had conjured after somehow allowing her sadder feelings stain the pages of her last letter... perhaps she could find safety in just admitting to Manu that sometimes she wasn't okay. Well, a lot of the time she wasn't okay. There had been others before which she could be vulnerable like that with, even if only for a moment. It should be low risk admitting that to someone on the other side of the world and yet... the prospect of physically writing down the evidence felt like it make the stakes higher then she was comfortable with. Maybe... maybe for down it would be better to keep the curtain closed on that one.

Just for now. Until it felt safer.

I'm also sorry if my letter worried you in some way. There's nothing wrong beyond the usual stress of classes and preparing early for exams for the end of the year. I have just been missing your presence and I know I'll have to muddle through and scrape together enough patience to wait until camp again to see you again. But I know it will be worth it, and we will have so much fun!

I hope everything continues to go well for you! Please stay safe for me and I will be on the look out for your next letter!

Yours,
Illowy

There was a small pang of guilt reading over her words, bushing off the other's worry so easily to blame it on trivial things and stress. Something about it felt wrong, but what point was there in allowing the other to worry for her or be weighed down by problems she couldn't help with? Why worry her about the dangers of Hogwarts and burden her with the intimate details of how it had worn away at Illowy like the sea beating against stone? It would've just made Manu as miserable as herself with the only difference that there was so way for Illowy to offer any practical comfort about the matter in a timely way. Manu didn't need to worry about her problems, she needed to focus on her own things that were actually important. Illowy wouldn't drag her friend down with her.

The snake prepared her letter as she grabbed her heavy cloak, tucking the envelope into an inner pocket of the garment. The last thing she needed was for it to get soaked before she was even able to send it.