pique (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} fitofpique) wrote,@ 2008-02-18 13:23:00 |
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HP fic: To Potter, On Valentine's Day, With Gravest Misgivings
Written forbuckle_berry's Valentine's Cardathon, for pippinmctaggart, with love!
A black envelope.
Alove letter.
A potion bottle with handwritten label (enclosed).
ETA: Text-only version.
Alove letter.
February 14, 2008
Potter,
You are a perfect idiot. Your behaviour has always been appalling, but today you went too far. Is there anything I could say that will penetrate your thick skull? I am inclined to believe not, as none of my increasingly desperate attempts to repel your advances seems to have deterred you in the slightest. Until now, I have been disposed to pay little heed to your persistent incursions, your wildly misdirected attachment, and your outrageous declarations of love (how utterly absurd!). But things have gone far enough.
Shall I list the many and varied reasons that an intimate relationship of any stripe between us is fated to be a disaster? Your infatuation – for it is nothing more than that, I am certain – will pass as suddenly and violently as it began. When it does, you will without doubt once again despise me as passionately as ever. That you ever thought of me with anything other than contempt will be a source of great embarrassment, I assure you.
Even if that were not the case, and I were inclined to embark upon a relationship with you (I am not saying that I am), the Wizarding world – your friends and admirers – would never accept it. We would be subject to endless ridicule, harassment, and persecution. I am accustomed to such harsh treatment, but it is not something I would wish on my worst enemy, let alone my most determined, indefatigable suitor (i.e., you).
If this is not sufficient to discourage you, know this: I am not capable of giving you what you desire. The idea of sharing my thoughts or feelings with another is anathema to me. I shudder at the notion of romantic dinners, long moonlit walks, and talking late into the night. I am constitutionally incapable of making heartfelt declarations of love; I am not even certain I’m capable of feeling that emotion. I am, in short, completely unsuited to amorous relationships of any nature.
Potter, I am twenty years your senior. We have almost nothing in common. For my part, I have few friends, I find most social events insufferable, and I am accustomed to and relatively content with my solitary life. I am not young or foolish enough to believe that we could bring one another any measure of happiness.
I realize I may be asking the impossible, but I feel compelled to implore you nevertheless: think carefully about what I’ve said (I have enclosed concentration aids to assist you in this extraordinary undertaking). If after serious consideration you persist in your delusions, no one will be able to say I have not tried my damnedest to make you see sense. My conscience will be clear (in this instance, anyway).
If this missive has failed to persuade you that a relationship with me would be inadvisable at best and catastrophic at worst, I will be at home, this evening, at 8 o’clock. Bring firewhisky.
Yours, &c.
SS
A potion bottle with handwritten label (enclosed).
Wit-Sharpening Potion
Directions: Add several capfuls to bathwater and soak for thirty minutes, breathing deeply, to elevate mental acuity. Effects may be heightened by burning enclosed candles whilst bathing.
Warnings: Do not take internally. Do not ingest bathwater. Do not bathe while drunk or sleeping. Do not leave candle unattended. Do not get your hopes up. I am exceedingly good, Potter, but I cannot perform miracles. Even potion making has its limitations.
Written for
buckle_berry's Valentine's Cardathon, for pippinmctaggart, with love!A black envelope.
A
A potion bottle with handwritten label (enclosed).
ETA: Text-only version.
A
February 14, 2008
Potter,
You are a perfect idiot. Your behaviour has always been appalling, but today you went too far. Is there anything I could say that will penetrate your thick skull? I am inclined to believe not, as none of my increasingly desperate attempts to repel your advances seems to have deterred you in the slightest. Until now, I have been disposed to pay little heed to your persistent incursions, your wildly misdirected attachment, and your outrageous declarations of love (how utterly absurd!). But things have gone far enough.
Shall I list the many and varied reasons that an intimate relationship of any stripe between us is fated to be a disaster? Your infatuation – for it is nothing more than that, I am certain – will pass as suddenly and violently as it began. When it does, you will without doubt once again despise me as passionately as ever. That you ever thought of me with anything other than contempt will be a source of great embarrassment, I assure you.
Even if that were not the case, and I were inclined to embark upon a relationship with you (I am not saying that I am), the Wizarding world – your friends and admirers – would never accept it. We would be subject to endless ridicule, harassment, and persecution. I am accustomed to such harsh treatment, but it is not something I would wish on my worst enemy, let alone my most determined, indefatigable suitor (i.e., you).
If this is not sufficient to discourage you, know this: I am not capable of giving you what you desire. The idea of sharing my thoughts or feelings with another is anathema to me. I shudder at the notion of romantic dinners, long moonlit walks, and talking late into the night. I am constitutionally incapable of making heartfelt declarations of love; I am not even certain I’m capable of feeling that emotion. I am, in short, completely unsuited to amorous relationships of any nature.
Potter, I am twenty years your senior. We have almost nothing in common. For my part, I have few friends, I find most social events insufferable, and I am accustomed to and relatively content with my solitary life. I am not young or foolish enough to believe that we could bring one another any measure of happiness.
I realize I may be asking the impossible, but I feel compelled to implore you nevertheless: think carefully about what I’ve said (I have enclosed concentration aids to assist you in this extraordinary undertaking). If after serious consideration you persist in your delusions, no one will be able to say I have not tried my damnedest to make you see sense. My conscience will be clear (in this instance, anyway).
If this missive has failed to persuade you that a relationship with me would be inadvisable at best and catastrophic at worst, I will be at home, this evening, at 8 o’clock. Bring firewhisky.
Yours, &c.
SS
A potion bottle with handwritten label (enclosed).
Wit-Sharpening Potion
Directions: Add several capfuls to bathwater and soak for thirty minutes, breathing deeply, to elevate mental acuity. Effects may be heightened by burning enclosed candles whilst bathing.
Warnings: Do not take internally. Do not ingest bathwater. Do not bathe while drunk or sleeping. Do not leave candle unattended. Do not get your hopes up. I am exceedingly good, Potter, but I cannot perform miracles. Even potion making has its limitations.