Work Text:
Snape's letter from seven years ago included a photo of Budaörs Elementary School. The school was designed by the agency I used to work for, or rather, when the project started, it was not my former employer. It was 2013, and his child was in third grade. We hadn't communicated for a long time. I wrote a very, very long letter, about fifteen inches long, but it was written in my notebook - to be honest, it was really stupid to write these things in my own notebook, or something else, but I am indeed a complete idiot. I thought about sending Stefan's Chopin Prelude or Milstein's Bach Unaccompanied Play to him for three months. They were just a few things we left for each other when we were at school. I made a special trip to London. I haven't been there for a long time, but I only know the letter shop there. I wrote a dozen pieces of letter paper and didn't send them, but left a little more finger marks in his heart.
We have never been a perfect match when we stand together, despite taking so many photos. Snape is quiet, gloomy, all black, with almost no extra color on him. He is not a fashion expert, but he is very conspicuous, like a musical actor who shuttles through the crowd and is ready to improvise at any time. I am very ordinary, ordinary can't be any more, and I can't resist getting old. A werewolf who only sleeps a few more hours even on a full moon night and has to prepare breakfast after waking up is still considered a werewolf? Snape is getting thinner and thinner, and he looks very sick. Gradually, he can't eat so much food and doesn't go out for a walk. One day, he walked out and kissed my cheek, with his eyebrows gently pressed against his arch. He said, 'I love you, I'm leaving. Goodbye, remus'. I want to say, please don't. I say, goodbye, severus. At the beginning, our communication was plain. Thanks to science, he couldn't pretend not to see my email, and the wizard couldn't arrogantly deny everything about Muggle.
However, I am no longer familiar with the latest things about wizards. In fact, after moving to San Jose, I didn't even know a wizard or witch here. For a while, I suspected that the hostess living next door to me was a mute, but later I found out that she just had a new lover. The chicken in the movie and the mute cannon in California. snape， How are you doing? I wrote to you again in my notebook