- Messages
- 10,673
- OOC First Name
- Claire
- Blood Status
- Muggleborn
- Relationship Status
- Single
- Sexual Orientation
- Asexual
- Wand
- Straight 9 1/2 Inch Rigid Walnut Wand with Thestral Tail Hair Core
- Age
- 1/1999 (64)
"Incendio." The letter in Monty's hands burst into flames and crumbled to the floor. When it had burnt out, all that remained of his inner most thoughts was a haunted pile of ash, sworn to secrecy by the lick of a flame. He couldn't do it. He would never send that letter to his Mother, no matter how the ache of his heart tried to convince him it was the right thing to do. It had been twenty-seven years since Monty had run away from home, leaving behind an empty bedroom and an empty hole in the heart of his family, and he had written not a single letter to them since.The Letter said:Mother,
Dear Mother,
Mother,
I have spent the better part of two decades deliberating over whether contacting you will bring you great relief or great discomfort. Sometimes I also fear I will arouse neither of those emotions, and that you have since my leaving grown indifferent to my existence. Either way I cannot win. Fear and trepidation haunt me, and to gain disclosure I must risk my happiness in the process.
I often wonder what you must think of me. I sit and tell myself that my actions were justified and their consequences unavoidable, but it does nothing to ease the guilt and pain I felt and continue to feel for walking out. I'm afraid that, whilst it is the least I owe to you, I can never warrant you an explanation. I can only promise you, with the most sincerity and from the deepest place in my heart, that I am sorry. If there was anything at all I could have done to let you know that I had always loved you, I would have done it a thousand times. Believe me when I tell you that I had no choice, for the fear I was running from would have pursued me.
There will be no return address on this letter. For now, I cannot face the torment of awaiting your reply. Even so, I hope that you are well and happy. That is all I ever wished for.Know that I am living a life now with happiness beyond what I knew possible.
Monty.
Richard.
The silence of the owlery was only disrupted by the soft flapping of downy wings up in the rafters. Monty sat beneath a window ledge and wished his own wings would wrap him up. There was nobody else in the room, and since the sound of approaching footsteps was always amplified up the spiral staircase in the corner, he knew it was safe to cry. He drew his knees into his chest and let the tears melt them. His shoulders shook and his lungs struggled for a proper breath. If Ava had seen him there, he wondered what she'd have thought of him. Professors weren't supposed to cry. But sometimes - just sometimes, and only when nobody was around to see it - Monty did.
He thought about home, and began again the process of trying to justify his selfish decision. Had it all been worth it? But between these thoughts came the plaguing fear of a student discovering him in such a state, until eventually he was forced to dry his eyes. It was just as well he did, because no sooner had begun wiping them on his sleeves than a pair of quick footsteps echoed up the staircase. There was only enough time to lower his hands before the door swung open, and there was still tears on his face and redness in his eyes. He'd briefly considered standing up, but what was the point? I'm not cut out for this job, he thought, and it wasn't for the first time that year.