#summer letters

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Summer Letters // NOTCHES

[tristan-not-naive]

21st August

Lawrence,

It took you almost an entire month. No one takes an entire month to figure out how to either say ‘I don’t want to talk to you’ or ‘actually I am coming back’. You were ignoring me. Dick.

If you didn’t want me attached to you then you shouldn’t have had sex with me a bunch of times and then been there for me over and over again. That ship sailed months ago, Lawrence. We talked about the fact I’m incapable of giving up on you before you left. Don’t be stupid. You’re not. Not really.

I called you an idiot and she encouraged me to call you worse. I think it’s a friendship that’ll last a long time.

I am really sorry to hear that about your mother. I’m angry at you right now but I’m sorry. I hope things get better for her soon. I can imagine the speech didn’t help with the trigger of being back at Hogwarts in the first place. It wasn’t worth the damage. Not when next to nothing came of it.

I had dinner with my mother on Saturday. She...I wish I’d never agreed to it. I wish I’d told her to go fuck herself, and resigned myself to being disowned, and used what influence I’d had left to talk Grandfather into making Mercy his heir. She’s always been able to handle my mother better that I have done, and she wouldn’t have to if she didn’t want to; she’s a legal adult, she can do as she pleases. I wish my conscience could stand putting that weight on her shoulders. I wish I wasn’t so determined to fight to change my family, didn’t need to prove to myself that they all have the potential to be better people; that Pureblood society has the potential to be better. I wish I had an idea of what I could do with my life that isn’t spending the next fifteen years learning from my grandfather and then running things myself. I wish it wasn’t so necessary to listen to my mother’s opinion of conflicts my grandfather wants my advice about. I wish I couldn’t see the logic in her arguments. 

I wish my father was still alive. I wish I could talk to her about him without her lashing out at me. I wish I didn’t understand that so well, either.

Snow leopards are practical for more than just cold weather, Lawrence. They’re practical in a fight; which, I suppose, shows just how old the tradition is, coming from all the way back when fighting like that was common enough for an aggressive animagus form to be necessary. But they’re also solitary, and intelligent. Animagus forms reflect your personality, the same way Patronuses do. I suppose mine is a leopard more for the above reasons than those Mercy and Mother, who I think have more of the aggression and calculative personality traits. Oh, actually, no, I take that back. Mercy’s nothing like my mother. I never said that. That’s a horrible thought. 

I refuse to name or gender a cactus, Lawrence. And if I ever did name it I would not name it after fast food, you ridiculous person. Yes, I know what pizza is. I have a Half Blood cousin, remember? Do you honestly think Anastazia would let me live without introducing me to muggle fast food?

[There is a large blot of ink, like Tris broke his quill or just set the end down on the parchment for a very long time; because that’s exactly what he did, because he replied one paragraph at a time and has only now taken in the drawing.]

What is wrong with you? Are you incapable of being serious for ten fucking minutes?

I’m glad your summer wasn’t boring. Tell Micah Happy Birthday from me; I will unfortunately be unable to attend.

The rest of my summer consists of thirteen days, Lawrence.

-Tristan

P.S. You spelt your own name wrong, genius. Was the effort of bringing yourself to finally write back to me so much you lost your motor functions at the last second, or are you just incapable of proof reading?

P.P.S. I’m going to be in Hogsmede on the twenty fifth. That gives me four whole days to stop being furious with you for being incapable of acting like an adult. It would be good to see you before term starts again.

[tristan-not-naive]

27th July

Lawrence,

So you’re actually going to ignore my letters. Well, alright then. You are a child, but I figured that out long before you started with the silent treatment.

The last week has been alright. Colin is...he’s nice. I half expected him to be awful in private; it might have been easier to dislike him for Roxanne’s sake, if he was. But he’s actually rather funny; and he likes muggle books, too. He’s making things very difficult, but what should I have expected? He’s Mercy’s husband; there was no way he was going to be anything other than complicated. She’d never settle for someone just plain boring and awful. Roxanne wouldn’t, either. This is more of a mess than I thought it would be. I blame you; you desensitised me to dick behaviour, and now I forgive Colin’s asshole tendencies and like him overall. This is entirely your fault. Imagine me frowning at you very severely.

The first week of animagus training has gone well. Mercy is very helpful, if a little like a drill sergeant, but I’m grateful for it. It means I’ll progress faster, and I can be confident and registered by the time I return to school. In case you were wondering, mandrake leaves taste dreadful. Completely, utterly awful. Never get yourself petrified, you won’t enjoy the potion for reanimating you.

My animagus form is a leopard, like my mother’s and Mercy’s, by the way. It’s something of a relief, and I’m rather proud. Here’s hoping I make it through the training and one day can show off my new skill.

I’ve been thinking I may study History of Magic when I enter university. That or Runes. I don’t think I could ever be a Curse Breaker - one week working in Gringotts has already turned me against a career working with goblins - but I could be good at professionally translating things, or as a historian. Can’t you just imagine me surrounded by books for the rest of my life? 

I hope everything is good with you. I’ll write you you again next week.

Sincerely,

Tristan

[tristan-not-naive]

20th July

Lawrence,

I hope the summer so far has been treating you well. 

I spent yesterday moving the last of my things out of my mother’s house and into Mercy and Colin’s. It was...strange, to say the least, the finality of leaving the room I grew up in. I left some clothes there, as I’ll be going back to visit on weekends, but I doubt I’ll ever really live in that room again. I can’t quite figure out if I’m going to miss it. It was my safe haven for such a very long time. But then, hopefully I won’t need a safe haven any more.

I’m going to properly start animagus training with Mercy, soon, which is exciting. Almost every recorded animagus form I’ve found for my family has been a snow leopard, just like Mercy and my mother, and I’m hopeful mine will be the same, but I suppose it would be just like me to turn into something else. Maybe I’ll end up turning into an ordinary house cat. It would be very me, don’t you think? What do you think your animagus form would be? I feel like it would be something with wings. Or some kind of monkey. I can imagine you turning into a spider monkey rather easily.

I suppose you heard about what happened during graduation from your parents and Thea. It was all very dramatic; and that’s all it’ll remain, with the lack of newspaper coverage and how the Wood name is being dragged through the mud right now. I don’t know why I’m surprised, but I am. And sad. On Oliver’s behalf at the very least, if not on behalf of everyone left so confused by what he said and the conflicting reactions of Auror Potter and the rest of the Ministry. Telling everyone it’s all lies is all well and good, but hunting him down like he’s a criminal doesn’t lend much weight to that argument, does it?

He gave up everything to try and get the truth out, and it didn’t even work. I even feel oddly sorry for Lara; for all the awful things she did to Evie, she clearly tried to do something right, this time, and now she’s just gone. I don’t believe the argument that Oliver kidnapped her in the slightest; she’s too resourceful, and Oliver is many things but a kidnapper is not one of them.

I understand you probably don’t want to talk about Evie, after what she did, so I’ll keep it brief. I think she’s going to tell the Aurors she thinks I was intending to seriously hurt her. I’m not frightened of that eventuality; I know what happened, I know I would never have hurt her, not intentionally, and I’ll answer whatever questions they want under as much veritaserum as they want to make that clear. But I’ve found myself laying awake and thinking about it, about a girl I love almost as much as my sister going to the authorities because she honestly believes I wanted to hurt her over a boy, and it breaks my heart.

I think I really lost her that day, when we argued.

I miss you. I probably shouldn’t, but I do. I hope you’re happy, back in Texas, and you’re doing something with your time beyond drinking and whatever else ‘normal’ teenagers do. I was looking at notebooks like the one I gave you for Christmas in Diagon Alley the other day. Not as nice, of course, but similar. If you wanted one to replace the one the Aurors took I could pick one out for you. Just let me know.

Tell your mother I say hello, and that it was a pleasure to meet her at Parent’s Weekend. Tell Thea I say hi too, I suppose.

Don’t feel pressured to write back. I understand if you don’t want to. I’m not inclined to make any attempt at your breaking away from your friends in Scotland in favour of remaining in America any easier by not communicating with you, but I understand if you don’t want to write back.

Sincerely,

Tristan

[olgx]

Summer Letters

Hey, guys.

I’ll be writing letters this summer. If you’d like to receive a letter and small illustration, please let me know. I’d like to know how many I’ll be sending out in advance.

Last year’s Christmas letters had me scrambling for stamps and stuff haha

so, send me an ask, or FB msg, or tweet me. Whatever works best for you.

I want to practice drawing flowers, so expect that. I may make exceptions..like maybe.. goats for certain people with certain preferances  (i won’t mention names.. *cough* four-fires *cough* )

[ilikecatsandoreos]

He smells like cheap beer and cigarettes. Like high school.

Summer Letters, Mallory Monroe