Jemma Simmons and the summer letters
Jemma Simmons and the summer letters
Hey folks ! Missed me ? I’m sorry for the fic absence, but I’m rather busy. Writing a thesis takes time. Plus I rediscovered piano, and I’ve been having fun with it. So, without further ado… Hogwarts AU ficlet again !
To amend myself, this is ridiculously long, and I gave up on proofreading. This took me a freakin’ hour, guys. If I start re-reading, I’ll never post it.
Also, I totally picked a random town for Jemma to live in, using England google map.
Jemma Simmons and the summer letters
Jemma had trouble believing it was summer already. Her fourth year had flown by, and she had to say that it had been a very good year. Of course, her fifth year would come with O.W.L.S but she wasn’t too worried about it for now. She was a good student, and she had never had trouble studying. Leo would study with her gladly. Plus, Grant had offered to help them prepare for it, since he had passed them himself recently.
Ever since the day he had walked with her in Hogsmeade in early February, Grant and Jemma had started forming an odd sort of friendship. He actually talked to her when he saw her, and, despite her usual awkwardness with anyone who wasn’t Leo or Skye, Jemma had begun to feel more and more at ease with the older student. He had helped her a few times with her spells, and she had found that he was much more likely to talk when the subject was something he felt confident about, like Quidditch or Defense against the Dark Arts. The teenage girl hadn’t been surprised to learn that Grant planned to become an Auror when he finished shool. It was just the kind of career that Jemma could picture him in : chasing the dark wizards, making sure that the people were safe.
He did have an heroic streak.
Even if Jemma was happy to go back home to her parents, she was quite sad to part with her friends. She had invited Skye to visit her, as well as Leo, but the months of summer would part her from her best friends a little too long for her tastes. Still, she would write them, as always.
She spent her first week back home painting the house with her mother. Her father pointed out that magic could make the job quicker, but her mother had insisted on doing this “the old-fashioned way” - Jemma knew that sometimes, she felt a little out of place in the magical world. Between painting, shopping and cooking, Jemma didn’t have much time to miss her friends until a rainy, lazy Sunday afternoon, where she finally found time to write them.
She reitered her invitation for Skye to visit her - after all, during the holidays, Skye had to go back to the orphanage she had grown up in, which, Jemma guessed, was a rather grim way to pass the time. She sent her a picture of a funny-looking tree she had seen on the way home, and wrote Leo a long letter, telling him all about a movie her mother had taken her to see. She set down her quill and looked out the window, biting her lip thoughtfully as she watched the droplets of rain glide down the windows.
Would it be odd for her to write Grant as well ?
After all, they were friends, weren’t they ? Jemma didn’t have many friends. Skye and Leo were her closest friends, without any question, but she had seen more and more of Grant during the previous months, and she considered him a good friend as well. Finally, she took a deep breath, fetched another parchment from her drawer, and started writing.
Dear Grant,
is it odd for me to write you ? I do hope I’m not bothering you ! It’s raining in Fressingfield today, and it reminds me of the time I begged you to go study outside, only for the rain to drown us completely. You did tell me it was going to rain. I should have listened to you !
I also wanted to thank you for your help during the last semester. It was very much appreciated ! I owe you.
I hope you have a good summer, and I hope this letter finds you well.
Jemma.
She read the letter about four times before sending it, nodding to herself. After all, there was nothing wrong with writing a friend, was there ?
She received responses from Skye and Leo quickly enough. Her owl, Snow, was rather fast, after all, and Jemma was glad to receive news from her friends. Still, she was sad to see the days go by without any answer from Grant. Perhaps her letter had been a misfire ? Maybe it was too much. Maybe he didn’t do letters. She almost asked Skye about it in her next letter, but she refrained from it. She didn’t want Grant to receive a howler from her friend, asking him why he hadn’t answered Jemma’s letter.
About two weeks later, when she was no longer expecting an answer and had started to forget about it, a beautiful white owl flew in by the opened window on a bright sunny day. Jemma raised her eyebrows, exchanging a curious glance with her father, before walking towards the animal, noticing the letter attached to his leg.
Dear Jemma,
I remember the time we were caught in the rain. Also, I didn’t mind helping you at all so there’s no need to thank me, really.
My summer is fine. I’m staying with my grandmother in Cardiff, like I do most summers. She keeps making me bake.
I hope your summer is good too. And it’s not odd that you’re writing me. I like getting letters.
Talk to you soon,
Grant.
Jemma felt a smile lighten up her face as she read and for some unknown reason, her heart started beating a little faster. She shook her head a bit, giggling softly - she could almost hear Grant’s low, clipped tone in her head as she read his words. Ignoring her father’s raised eyebrows, she petted the owl happily, and ran up to her bedroom to write back.
Dear Grant,
I’m glad you’re doing well ! And I know you didn’t mind helping me, but I’m still thanking you, and you can’t stop me.
I didn’t know your grandmother lived in Wales ! I’ve never been there. Almost, baking ? You ? Forgive me, but I’m going to need proof, because I cannot picture you baking at all. Is there an apron involved ?
Everything is still all right here. My mother and I have been doing some chemistry experiments in the kitchen - she teaches chemistry in high school. My father wasn’t pleased with finding baking soda all over the sink, but we cleaned it up easily enough.
I’m glad to hear from you !
Jemma
P.S : Is your owl a pure-breed barn owl ? He’s gorgeous ! What’s his name ?
The next letter she received came much quicker than the first, and it was much shorter, although a small package was enclosed. When Jemma opened it, her nostrils were hit by the delicious smell of lemon and sugar, and her eyes twinkled when she noticed the lemon cookies inside.
Dear Jemma,
there. Is that proof enough for you ?
P.S : And no, there’s no apron involved. I have my dignity.
P.P.S : Yes, that’s barn own, and his name is Zebulon. Don’t laugh. It was my brother’s idea.
She wrote back on the same day :
Dear Grant,
my, those cookies are heavenly ! Thank you very much for the package ! But still, I cannot be sure you made them, so I remain skeptical. (I’m kidding. Sort of.)
Zebulon ? That’s an odd name for an owl, I’ll give you that. I didn’t know you had siblings. I’m an only child, myself. How old is your brother ? Does he go to Hogwarts ?
Have you received your OWLS results yet ? It must be rather stressful !
My parents also thank you for the cookies. My mother now demands you come visit sometimes and bring pastries. Do not pay any attention to her : she’s a bit of a glutton. A trait that I most certainly do not share ! (But if you want to send more cookies, feel free to do so, if you’re so inclined !)
By the way, Skye is supposed to come visit me in two weeks and stay for the rest of the summer. I can’t wait to see her !
Hugs,
Jemma.
The next letter made her laugh out loud. It wasn’t accompanied by a package, but by a magical picture. On the small picture, Jemma could see Grant in a kitchen, an apron tied around his neck, taking cookies out of the oven.
Dear Jemma,
you are hard to convince, aren’t you ? There. Now, burn that picture. Also, the apron was a fluke.
My little brother arrives at Hogwarts this year, actually. His name is Zach. I also have an older brother.
Also, no, I haven’t received my results yet. Thank you for pointing out the stressful nature of the event, I hadn’t realized how much this could impact my future. (I’m kidding. Sort of).
I may send more cookies. If you apologize for doubting me. And make it good. I have my dignity.
I gathered that Skye was coming from the last letter she sent me. It was mostly capital letters and rambling, but I got it. I hope you have fun. Her summers aren’t usually filled with fun, from what I know.
Talk to you soon,
Grant.
********
Dear Grant,
I knew there was an apron involved ! But it suits you very well. Really. And that picture isn’t going anywhere. I am saving it for future reference.
Three boys, then ? You must be quite a family ! Are your brothers as friendly as you are ? I’m kidding. If they’re as helpful and kind as you are, they can’t be anything less than lovely. And yes, that was a compliment.
Grant, I am sorry for doubting your baking abilities. Truly, I am filled with sorrow as I recall how skeptical I was of you, despite your assurance of your truthfulness ! Tell me, how can I amend myself ? How, oh, how can I ever hope to regain your trust and good opinion, despicable friend that I am ? Oh, the agony !! (Shall I go on ?)
Also, I’m sure you did fine on your OWLS. There is no way you didn’t. I believe in you !
Hugs,
Jemma.
*********
Dear Jemma,
I knew sending you that picture was a mistake. Don’t bring it to school.
And yes, three boys. My younger brother, Zach, is a pain, sometimes, but mostly, he’s a good kid. My older brother doesn’t live at home anymore. We don’t really talk.
And thank you for the compliment, I guess. Or are you just doing this for the cookies ?
That apology reeked of sarcasm, but I’ll take it. I’m sure I can think of some way for you to amend yourself.
I received my results, by the way.
Talk to you soon,
Grant.
P.S : I hope you enjoy the cupcakes. They’re strawberry. You like that, right ?
*************
Dear Grant,
how dare you ? You tell me you received your results, but you don’t tell me how you did on them ? Is that revenge for the apron thing ?
I demand you write me back immediatly to tell me how you did !
Also, yes, I do love strawberry flavored pastries. How did you know ? Those cupcakes were delicious. Thank you !
I can’t wait to meet Zach. I’m sorry I brought up your older brother. I sense there’s some kind of conflict there ? But I won’t ask. I don’t want to make you feel awkward.
A way to amend myself ? What do you have in mind ? I might be a little scared.
NOW WRITE ME BACK RIGHT NOW.
Jemma.
**********
Dear Jemma,
yes, that was revenge. I got mostly EEs, a few Os and one A, in Astronomy- not my strong suit, but I don’t need it to be an Auror, so I don’t really care. Sorry for making you sorry (actually, I’m not).
I’m glad you liked the cupcakes. Gramsy helped a lot with them though. And I’m observant. I know you like strawberries.
It’s okay. But let’s not talk about my brother, all right ?
I’ll figure something out. You’ll see.
Talk to you soon,
Grant.
*******
Dear Grant,
first, congratulations on your results ! I knew you’d be brilliant ! But I’m going to need more detail than that. “Mostly EEs, a few Os “? I want to know what grade you had in what subject ! I need details so I can properly congratulate you !
I do like strawberries a lot. Are you very close with your grandmother ? It seems like you are. That is wonderfully sweet.
I’m now officially scared, by the way. I will defend myself, Grant Ward !
It’s incredibly hot here. The days are sunny, but the heat is almost unbearable. I’m almost missing the rain.
Hugs,
Jemma.
***********
Dear Jemma,
thank you. But do you really need the play by play ? You are obsessed with school.
Yes, I am very close to my grandmother. More than my parents, actually.
Defend yourself, will you ? Doll, your spells are better, but they’re not that good. I would crush you.
The heat is all right here. The days are a little cloudy, but it’s gotten sunnier since yesterday. Your letter brought the sun, I guess.
Also, enjoy the blueberry scones.
Soon,
Grant.
**********
Dear Grant,
first of all : “Doll ” ? Is this the 1920s ?
And yes, I do need the play by play. And I am not obsessed. I have an interest in the matter.
Your parents are both wizards, right ? I never asked.
The blueberry scones are delicious.
I’m sorry if my letter is a little disjointed. We’re preparing the house for Skye’s arrival. It’s in a few days, but my mother insists we clean the whole house. Even the attic. Don’t ask me why.
You, crush me ? That is rich. I’d love to see that. I have tricks up my sleeve.
Hugs,
Jemma.
************
Dear Jemma,
yes, my parents are both wizards. I’m glad you liked the scones.
Good luck on the house cleaning. I’ve been recruited to garden with my grams. It’s not really my favorite activity, but I’ll survive. Also, is Skye here yet ?
And I don’t doubt that you have tricks up your sleeve. Not for one minute.
Grant.
P.S : And yes, you are obsessed.
******************
Dear Grant,
fine, I am obsessed. But so are you.
And yes, Skye arrived yesterday, actually. I think she’s happy to be here. I’m happy she’s here too. Summer is running long (although your letters have made it entertaining, I must say …)
- What are you doing ?
Jemma looked up from her desk. It was mid-morning, and she was still in her pajamas. She had written Grant first thing in the morning, while Skye was still asleep - expect now, her friend had awoken, and was now staring at her with sleepy, yet curious eyes.
- Writing a letter.
- I can see that, Skye answered. To who ? Leo ?
- No. To Grant.
- Grant Ward ?
- Do we know that many Grants ?
This seemed to wake Skye up. She stood up from her mattress on the floor, her hair still messy from sleeping, and she went to lean over Jemma’s shoulders, her eyes widening.
- I didn’t know you guys wrote to each other.
- We do. A bit.
- Are those all from him ?
Skye pointed to a pile of letters gathered in a small, flowery basket on Jemma’s desk, and the teenage girl blushed despite herself. For some reason, she had kept Grant’s letters in this basket, by her pencilcase, while the letters from her friends were all in her frawer. She had simply stuck his first letter in the basket, and had continued to do it everytime one of his letters came.
- Jemma, Skye said. Do you know how many times Grant wrote me this summer ?
- No ?
- One. And is that … a picture ?
Jemma stood up, her cheeks reddening, and took the picture from Skye, who had just seized it.
- Is he wearing an apron ?
- It’s a long story, Jemma protested, flustered. We’re just… writing.
- Writing.
- Yes. As friends do.
- Right.
- Girls ! Breakfast !
- Coming, mum ! Jemma hollered back, making Skye jump a little.
- You’re louder than you seem, Skye muttered.
Jemma glanced at the unfinished letter, biting her lip, and Skye grinned, rolling her eyes :
- Come on. I’m starving, let’s eat. You can write to loverboy later.
- He’s not my…
- Of course not.
- Skye…
- Yes ?
- There’s no love involved.
- Right.
- I’m serious ! Stop looking at me like that !
- All right ! I’ll stop. If you come have breakfast, because those eggs are killing me.
Jemma shook her head, vaguely amused, her blush fading away, and put on her slippers before following Skye downstairs.