My dear Regulus,
You never showed up. And now after looking at the prophet I understand why. I don’t imagine you will receive this, but none the less I must send it.
Regulus
Oh Regulus..
I was just starting to dream the silliest and softest of dreams.
I miss you. And I will always miss you.
On the paper of the messy letter were small droplets of water, staining the paper with the memory of its sorrow,
A clattering noise filled the small room as James dropped the quill, his eyes went over to the daily prophet, static filled the air as he looked at the cover once more, the words daunting him as he read them over and over again ‘the Black heir dead’.
Lily quietly looked into the room, looking at James hunched over figure at the table, ink splatter all over.
He hadn’t noticed when she had walked over, only snapping out of it when a hand was laid on his shoulder, making him jump at the contact,
Lily and James did not say a thing to the other, not when James started to cry, not when he cried into her slightly swelled stomach, not when Lily started to cry as well, nothing.
Ever since that night nothing in that little room had been touched, not when their son was born, not on October thirty first, the letter remained in that room with the old daily prophet beside it, the tears still standing the paper.