Dear Clara,

[Julian Sørensen]

Dear Clara,

I'm not sure you know who I am. Perhaps I ought to state that as I begin. My name is Julian, and I was sat behind you in Charms towards the end of last year. I noticed you because you were reading a book that I had also read recently. I was going to ask you about it, but I didn't.

Here's the thing, though, Clara. The world is kind of small, isn't it? I don't mean in that clichéd sense where you bump into people you know often. I mean that geographically, numerically, physically, it's really far too small. I could visit every place on it before I died with ease. Magic helps, of course, but I could. It's a bit frightening, don't you think? Back when people believed it bigger everything was fine. I could have gone somewhere and never been found and it would have been like going to an entirely separate reality. But now everyone can find you anywhere and the world is just small.

I wonder if people will get into space any time soon. If they did, would you go? I would. New planets, new places, far far away from here. The world is too small and space is too big and I wonder if there's anywhere that's in between. If there was a planet one galaxy over, that would be perfect for me. Just big enough to lose yourself on. But what do we even mean when we say lose ourselves? Obviously I can always find myself - I look down, and there I am. You might think you're lost, but I can stand and look at you, and there you are. Found. But metaphorically - existentially, even - we could lose ourselves and each other and maybe the world's still big enough for us to do that. Would we need to leave the planet to be truly lost? Possibly. I don't know if we shall ever be able to answer that.

On the topic of books, I think you should read Doctor Zhivago, if you haven't already. And then something by Charles Dickens because everybody ought to read Dickens. And if you ever take a train don't plan it. Just take it and see where you end up. It would be a lot more interesting if steam trains were still in use and we could take one of them to France and then throughout Europe. We could start seeing everything. Prague, Venice, Paris, Berlin. Would it matter whether I could find myself or not if I was in Rome? I don't think so. It might matter to you, I suppose. Would you mind, Clara, to have lost yourself in the centre of Budapest? It would be a good sort of place to find yourself anew, mind.

Yours sincerely,
Julian Sørensen

[Clara Russell]

Dear Julian,

Well this is certainly unexpected There’s only one Julian in our year – I can assume you’re in my year because apparently we were in the same Charms class – so if you’re the Julian that I’m thinking of, then yes, I do know who you are, and I didn’t think I’d ever hear from you because we haven’t spoken at all ever much, but okay. You’re in my year and you’re actually writing to me Even if you sound strange you’re actually writing to me and no one ever writes to me

Do you mind if I ask if you’re alright? It’s nothing in particular that set off me naturally worrying for you even though you’re all but a stranger, but I thought I’d ask anyways in case there’s something legitimately wrong with you at the moment. If not, then that’s fine as well – I have to say that some of the things you’ve brought up in your letter are quite interesting to think about and I’ve never really ventured into contemplating them before because they’re not your usual, everyday topics of discussion. Which makes me wonder why you wrote to me, of all people, to discuss these things with like what was it that prompted you to, just the fact that I was reading a book that you had also read or

Though I somewhat agree with you on that, I might have to disagree because I believe that the world may be far bigger than you seem to think it is. After all, technically you yourself haven’t yet gone out and discovered that you can indeed visit every place in the world without much difficulty before your death. I’m not saying that it wouldn’t be possible, but I am saying that you can’t irrefutably state that it is possible until you’ve done it yourself. Of course society has advanced to the point where magic and measurements have made it fact that you could travel the entire world, but could you really see everything? Who would you have to compare your results to, assuming that someone before you has also gone and seen ‘everything’ the world has to offer? Surely one can make mistakes and miss out on things. You come off as the type of person who wants to discover things on his own, so I’ll leave you with that for now.

As for space, people have gotten there – however you could be referring to how far they’ve gotten and that’s an excellent point to make. If I ever get interested in space travel you'll be the first person I tell about it, but I'm not sure if it'll ever happen. I read a book on quauntum mechanics once and tried to keep up, because the study of physics really is quite fascinating once you get into it, but I soon came to the conclusion that it just wasn’t my strongest subject. No matter how interesting it is, I can’t think of a proper time in the future when I’ll have to utilize the idea that a physical system can exist simultaneously in all theoretically possible states until it’s measured and corresponds to only one of the possible configurations. Besides, I fancy fiction a lot more, and it’s lovely to hear that you share some of the same taste that I do because no one hardly ever does (no one hardly ever reads, either, but I guess you’d already know that from observing the type of people we go to school with first-hand just as I have in the past). Thank you for recommending Doctor Zhivago, I’ll be sure to be on the lookout for it the next time I search for books to read. If we’re on the topic of Dickens, I’ll have to say that The Tale of Two Cities is my absolute favorite. What’s yours? I wouldn’t mind losing myself anywhere actually

I Thanks for

I look forward to hearing back from you soon,
Clara

[Julian Sørensen]

Dear Clara,

Speaking is dull, dear heart. Thinking is far more entertaining. I have thought of you, but not spoken to you - is that a compliment to you? It seems to me like it could be construed either way, and I am the one saying it. Or writing it, I suppose. I mean it as a compliment. I have never written to anybody in our year before, or indeed outside of it saving my cousin. The thing is, you see, Clara, I have suddenly been seized with a desire for communication before this intoxication leaves me.

Faith without proof is no faith at all, I read once. I forget where. I have faith that I could visit every inch of this planet, and you appear to not believe me. Hold faith in that pretty little head of yours - because that's the true domain of faith, don't you think? The head. People say the heart, the soul - but only the mind is quantifiable and besides I think if people held their faith in their head the world would be a much more sensible place. Doesn't it irritate you, sometimes? How stupid people are. Stupid stupid stupid.

One day you may own a cat, Clara, and then I'm sure quantum physics will become as important to you as it did to Schrodinger. Doesn't it fascinate you, though? The idea of existing many times at once. Imagine it - infinite yous and mes and worlds, replicated unceasingly across all the planes. Now there's a place to explore. Crossing the great schism - physically, not metaphorically - would be the most marvellous journey of all. Maybe you or I shall manage it one day. Apparation should help, I'm sure of it - I just haven't worked out how yet. I will put my mind to the matter.

The people with whom we attend school are idiots, my dear. It is better to accept this now and save yourself heartbreak in later life. I rather suspect a large proportion of them will leave school having learned almost nothing of note. Transfiguring teacups, brewing potions - it's all very well, but why do they not teach us things of worth? My mother could teach me all the spells I need to know to get by in two days. They should teach us art, literature, history, languages - what the Muggles teach, in short. I would leave Hogwarts and take more interesting classes, if it would not ensure my disinheritance.

The Tale of Two Cities is an excellent read - it seems we have similar tastes. How frightfully nice. Personally, Nicholas Nickleby will forever be my favourite, although I could not hope to justify why. Perhaps if I was in a more logical state of mind, but no matter. I cannot stop thinking about the cat, Clara. How could it exist so many times at once?

Kindest regards,
Julian Sørensen

[Clara Russell]

Dear Julian,

Oh, so you are intoxicated? That’s fine, I guess – it’s actually astounding to hear that I’m the only person in our year that you’ve written to, though the same goes for me to you, but yes, I am indeed flattered. No one ever compliments me. Not like that. Not in any way at all, for that matter. Now that you bring it up, it does definitely irritate me how stupid some people can be – and are, really. No one really understands me. No one can even tell that I’m irritated because I hold it all in so well. I don’t talk to anyone. Sometimes I go days without saying a single word to anyone. Doesn’t that strike you as impossible, Julian? Well, I can tell you for sure that it’s not, because I’ve done it before, and several times, too.

I’m not sure I will ever own a cat, but nonetheless, I’ll take your word for it for now. Everyone has something that’s truly important to them, and for Schrodinger that importance was held by the concept of quantum physics. He dedicated his life to the study of it, he received countless awards for it, he theorized and philosophized and ultimately, he was successful in what he did, considering we still remember and are discussing him presently. Wouldn’t that be lovely, if we all had something that we were passionate about but we also gained success from it? Or would that be too good to be true? I don’t know what to think anymore. I mean, I think, of course, because even writing this letter back to you requires thinking and effort and brainstorming – but when it comes to day to day tasks and wondering what the future holds I legitimately cannot find it in me to think at all. I’m too scared. And you happen to be the first person in the world I’ve ever told that I’m scared, and I’m not quite positive how to feel about that. I don’t know why I trust you, but I do. Somehow I’ve gotten a good feeling about you, whether or not you are drunk or high or whatever it is you happen to be at the moment.

I accepted that fact long ago, actually – it’s just the fact that I don’t tend to openly voice it like you do. My classmates can’t cause me heartbreak or pain because most of them don’t even realize that I exist, let alone take the time to socialize with me. I have hardly any friends, so that doesn’t pose much of an issue either. It sounds strange to hear myself say – or see myself write, rather – that no one can break my heart, but I will say it because it’s true. Regardless of how self-centered and mysterious that may make me sound, it’s true in an odd way. No one can break my heart because not because I’ll never give them a chance to, no one can break my heart not because I’ve done well at putting up walls around me that no one can break in, but instead, no one can break my heart because no one tries to nor would anyone want to, in the future, notice me and try to. I’m invisible. If I go by your ideology, I accepted that a long time ago as well in order to save myself from future pains.

I agree, however – many of the things we learn, however interesting or otherwise ‘important’ are quite trivial in the long run. Being taught doesn’t mean you’ve learned anything. Learning is an individual experience, but in the type of school system we attend, we’re just an individual that’s part of a bigger group who is paid the least attention to because these days everyone leads busy lives and no one ever has time for anyone else. That being said, though, I’m curious – would you look to attending some type of Muggle institution to gain a better education once you attain your inheritance? When do you acquire your inheritance? That might be a better question.

Thinking about it now, you have the potential of being right – about faith, I mean. Taking the cat, for example – though it’ll come as a shock to you how little I can manage to understand about it – the cat existed in multiple situations when the experimenter held the faith that it did. Once the box was opened the experimenter could only hold the faith of the one configuration in which the cat existed, which is why the cat existed in that particular configuration. Until you open the box and look, the cat exists in multiple scenarios because faith and science tells you that it does. When you open the box, however, you can’t continue to hold that faith because you now have proof that the cat only exists in the one state that you see. Does that make sense? Perhaps I’m rambling now.

All the best,
Clara

[Julian Sørensen]

Dear Clara,

First of all, I should warn you that this morning I am replying to your letter sober for the first time. Secondly, I feel that I should apologise - it was rude of me to simply owl you without really knowing you. I can only plead my boredom and that you might be the only person in that whole stupid school who has a brain in their head. Will you forgive me? There's something about you that makes me not want to have you cross with me. And thank you for even replying in the first place. Most people would not have.

I'm surprised you get few compliments, my dear. There must be somebody aside from me who's noticed how attractive you are - it's kind of impossible to not notice, in my opinion. That aside, I don't blame you at all for not talking to anybody. I do the same. But people don't notice, do they? We should test it sometime. Both of us go without speaking to anybody and see who gets noticed first. But look, Clara - now I'm thinking clearly, for once (and I've just had weetabix for breakfast, which I'm sure you're aware is good for the soul), I'd like to tell you that I think you are impossible, in many ways - but that that is an excellent thing. Who is there on the planet that would rather be possible than something as exciting as impossible? Impossible people will rule the world, in the end.

Is there anything that's as important to you as quantum physics was to Schrodinger? I'd like to know, if there is. Tell me about it. I'll tell you what's important to me, although I doubt I shall ever be famous for it - language, Clara. The way words go together. Fitzgerald, Hemingway, Tolkien, Nabokov, Tolstoy - they write prose beautifully, ecstatically, and I shall never be tired of reading their work and wondering at the way they use language and turn it into a thing of beauty. Maybe they are to language for me what Schrodinger is to physics - they turn it into something beautiful, untouchable, fascinating. Is there anything like that for you?

Thank you for telling me that you're scared. But don't be, darling - there's nothing at all about the future worth being scared about. It'll come towards whatever we do and it's so much simpler just to surrender to it. After all, it's not so hard to change the course of it. We could run away to Paris tomorrow and stop being scared, if you liked. Get a little apartment somewhere and read and learn about physics and not think about anything at all. (I may seem high here still, but I promise I'm not.) What do you think, Clara? Paris?

You're not invisible to me - in fact, you're much more visible than most other people are. And I'm happy for you that you'll never experience heartbreak - I have no intention of doing so either - but I should warn you that announcing that nobody will get past your walls reads a little like a challenge to me. I think I should like to get past your walls. I think your castle inside them must be something very special indeed.

I agree entirely with your thoughts - whatever I said to you originally, and I'm sure it was fairly concurrent with what I'm thinking right now. If everybody just took a little more time to notice each other, I think the whole system would be better off. But they don't, and they won't, so I suppose there's no point brow-beating about it. And, to answer your question: I honestly do not know. Maybe. It would certainly be interesting, but I worry that the other students would annoy me too much. I'd rather read and learn alone, or at least one-on-one with somebody who knows the subject inside out. All those lectures seem like a waste of time to me. Would you consider attending one? And in response to your second question - so long as I don't do anything especially drastic, I should receive my inheritance when I turn twenty. I'm sure I would have been cut off by now were I not an only child. My poor long-suffering father has nobody else to leave his money and property to, unfortunately for him.

Faith and science indeed - it's funny, isn't it? I close my eyes and I can feel the possibility of infinite states then. But I open them, and everything hardens into one solid reality. This is very intriguing - I have never given any thought to these things sober before. Thank you, Clara. You are introducing me to many new things.

Sincerely,
Julian

[Clara Russell]

Dear Julian,

It’s alright, really. You don’t have to apologize because it’s not as if you did anything bad – you just wrote to me, and like I said, no one ever writes to me, so it was a pleasant enough surprise. You’re good at making conversation when you’re intoxicated, I’ll give you that. There was no way that I couldn’t reply when you were bringing up such interesting topics. It wasn’t rude at all, I promise.

I don’t believe so, but thank you anyways for the compliment. No one’s ever called me attractive before, so I’m not quite sure how to properly respond, but just know that I appreciate it. You’re actually lovely, has anyone ever told you that? I realize that similarly to me you don’t talk to many people we attend school with, but perhaps you have different reasons for doing so, and maybe no one’s ever told you that you’re lovely, so I’d be glad to be the first. I agree, it would be beyond entertaining to test out such a hypothesis, though I do think you’d have far greater chances than me of getting spoken to first. People notice you in the first place, at least, even if they end up making the decision that they’d rather not talk to you. I’ve never thought of myself as ‘impossible,’ so could you expand on that point?

Don’t be so sure that you’ll never be famous for something that you’re passionate about. No one can guarantee that you will or won’t be, but there’s no harm in trying, so don’t make conclusions about the future that you can’t be positive of. It’s a very negative attitude, and although I’m guilty of doing the same, I can see you excelling in language and making a name for yourself in the world for it one day. You’ve got that sort of tone – talent, even. That being said, if it’s true that you do your own writing already, I’d love to read some of it, if you’d be willing to lend your works to a complete somewhat stranger. As for me, art is one of the most important things in my life. I draw a lot myself, in this sketchbook that I carry around with me everywhere, but again, no one notices, However, I don’t really let anyone see my drawings. They’re a bit of a secret. Studying the history of certain types of art also appeals to me, if I’m being completely honest – the eras of Impressionism, Post-Impressionism, Modernism – they’re all fascinating to me, but it’s a strange interest to have in the world that we live in. Art isn’t dead, but people ignore it so much that sometimes I think it might be.

You’re right, in a way, but it’s tough for me to hold the same mindset about the coming days as you do. I can’t help but worry, be anxious and nervous, over what’s to come, because I have a general idea that it can’t be much better than what I’m going through at the moment. Waking up every morning for a day that isn’t going to be significant in the long run is tough, a chore, almost. But then again, I have no idea what I’m aiming for in the long run. Tomorrow? And just drop out of school? That’s an interesting prospect. As pathetic as it may sound, school is all I have left. That doesn’t mean that I look forward to it at all, but it’s my constant, so I’d have to put some deep thought into running away with you to Paris. Maybe in a few years, if you can wait for me?

I don’t think you’d be able to, but if you’d fancy giving a shot, please do so. I’m not that informed on how much people can work to get past challenges of this nature, but I’d like to see you try. You can’t see the castle through the walls until it falls, after all. Right now you’re just on the outside looking in. Have you ever thought about that?

The system will never change. If you think about it, all systems are corrupt, seriously flawed in some manner, but there’s nothing a couple of teenagers with a few thoughts shared in letters can do to change that. It sounds cynical of me, but you’ll have to put some real effort into convincing me otherwise. I might. I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know. I hardly have any plans for after Hogwarts. You’ll get it when you’re twenty, right. How would you plan on leaving here and going to live in Paris before then? Or do you have money stored away somewhere else? I’m starting to learn that I can never make solid assumptions when it comes to you – it’s always better just to ask and make sure.

Infinite states are concepts you could ponder forever, whether you’re drunk or high or entirely sober, and that’s coming from someone who isn’t all that interested in the physics side of things. You’re welcome. And thanks again for spending so much time writing to me. No one else would.

Why are you being so nice to me

Sincerely,
Clara

[Julian Sørensen]

Dear Clara,

It was still a failure of manners, so I will not retract my apology. That being said, I am glad that it was pleasant for you. It is pleasant for me, writing to you. And - I will be honest with you here - I think I'm far more verbose when I've taken drugs. That's probably a bad thing, but at least I will have no problems when I grow older if I'm high and need to discuss a serious topic. I'm glad you replied, by the way. I don't know if I've told you that yet. Receiving your letters is a real treat. I definitely look forward to it more than almost anything else this summer.

I have to echo you and say that I have never been called lovely before - a lot of things, but never lovely. I tell you what, I'll do you a deal - I will believe that I am lovely if you will believe that you are attractive. But, Clara, you're not just attractive. You're beautiful. Properly, heart-stoppingly, can't-look-away beautiful. Is that too forward of me? Probably. But it bothers me, darling, knowing that you don't think it. Because you really are, and it seems a shame to me that you don't believe it. But I won't go on about it, I fear boring you. Just know that you are beautiful, and that if nobody else talks to you then I will. You're far too good for any of them, Clara. Far too good.

You are impossible, but nicely. Not in the kind of way that we use to refer to difficult children. You are impossible because you are beautiful, and you are clever, and you are the first person who has ever called me lovely. Impossible because you care about physics and know about Schrodinger's cat and think about things so deeply. You're the first person I've ever met like this, and you are impossible because I never thought I would meet such a person. Impossible, and wonderful, and enchanting. (Am I being too forward again? I fear so.)

You give excellent pep talks, my dear. I find myself believing you. You really are far too kind - and it's not that I would be unwilling to entrust my writing to you, it's that it is frankly appalling and nowhere near fit for human consumption. I should be embarrassed to have you read it, it's that poor. You shall have to take my word for it. But your art - that I would like to see. I understand, of course, if it is something too private to share. But I cannot believe that anything you create is not worth seeing, Clara. The inside of your head is too wonderful. I don't find art a strange interest at all. It tells truths about the world that the human tongue - or the pen - can never hope to. I would be proud to love it as intensely as you seem to.

I need to you listen to me carefully now - or pay attention to what I have written, at least: things can only improve from how they are now. This is the pits, darling. Waking up for days of lessons in things we don't care about surrounded by people who irritate us - it's all going to get better. We'll get out and find the world waiting for us, brighter and better than we ever hoped. And of course it will be full of insignificant days, but I know there's a remedy for that. You just have to find one person, somebody who knows you inside-out, who loves you better than you could ever dream and whom you love equally in return. And then insignificant days won't exist any more, because they will be there to make them matter. So you see, there is hope to be had.

Darling, I would wait until the end of time to run away to Paris with you. Just say the word, and we'll go.

I'm not people, and I hope to surprise you. I may be on the outside looking in, but every wall has a gate and once I find that I intend to peer through. Perhaps if I play my cards correctly I might even find the unlocked. I look forward to finding out whether it is.

I am afraid that I cannot argue with you on that one. I do not believe that we can change anything, unless we decided to become teachers, which frankly I have no intention of doing. My main ambition is getting out. Beyond that I have no plans at all - I suppose that frightens you, but it excites me. The whole world, and my life to face it. Doesn't it sound marvellous? And as for money - oh, my mother, the darling, she'll give me anything I ask for. I tell her quite regularly that I am taking lessons in this or that, and she gives me far too much money for them considering I'm not taking them at all, and I put a great deal of it away, just in case I ever take a step too far. I do not intend to do so, but you can't be sure.

The chances are I will still be thinking about infinite states when I return to Hogwarts. They really are intriguing. And, no, Clara - I should be thanking you. You are making my holidays far more enjoyable than I anticipated.

Sleep well,
Julian

[Clara Russell]

Dear Julian,

You don’t have to retract your apology, but I’d like it if you stopped apologizing altogether because I don’t think you have anything to be sorry for. Really, for someone who was high is that what you were? you were quite coherent and eloquent and well-mannered, I give you my word. Next time I see you you can even have a look at all the letters you’ve sent me because I haven’t gotten rid of any of them You can even have a look at all the letters you’ve sent me, if you want to. I look forward to your letters, too. It’s odd how that works, isn’t it? We were practically strangers up until a few days ago, and now I feel like I know you better than I know a lot of people. I don’t really know a lot of people to begin with, but I hope you know what I mean.

What have you been called before, if you don’t mind me asking? I don’t see how people can think otherwise of you, honestly. Okay, sounds like a deal. I can’t believe you just I apologize for my awkwardness, which I’m sure you’ve noticed – it’s just that no one has ever called me any of those things before. Attractive, beautiful, all those words you’ve used – it’s very weird to hear them coming from anyone at all to describe me. You’re not being too forward, and it shouldn’t bother you, because up until now you hadn’t even realized that no one else has ever noticed or bothered to say those types of things to me not that I deserve them. The same goes for the reasons you’ve called me impossible – I’m smiling now, really smiling, and I haven’t done that in a while. So thank you, Julian Sørensen, simply for being the way that you are. You don’t know how much it means to me. I hope that’s not too forward a thing for me to say, though I don’t believe I can be as graceful as you in that department.

For some reason, I don’t trust you on that – everything about you that I’ve learned thus far has been interesting or thought-provoking or just essentially good, and it doesn’t make much sense to me that your writing would be the opposite. I won’t demand that you let me read your work, but I will say again that it certainly can’t be as terrible as you think it is. Negativity is in the mind, and the mind is where you have to work to get rid of it. I apologize once more that I’m such a hypocrite when it comes to such things – but it’s far easier to tell you to be more confident about yourself and your abilities than it is to tell myself the same thing. Perhaps one day I’ll show you my art. If we make another deal, will you agree to it? The deal is this – I show you one of my drawings if you show me one of your pieces of writing. An exchange of sorts. We can see how it goes. I’m positive you’ll find my art to be rubbish, but we can try nonetheless.

I’ll attempt to listen to you on that matter. Things are just difficult, but I’m trying, I really am, and I’m sorry I sound so pathetic. You must be tired of me already. I know there’s hope – I’ve felt it, sometimes, and it wouldn’t be a lie if I said that I’m feeling it now. Hope. Talking to you gives me that feeling, because you understand me. I don’t think anyone could ever love me, but I think I could love someone, if I tried. Does that make me strange? Please tell the truth. Or maybe I’m quite wrong and love is a thing that you don’t try, maybe it just happens and is unstoppable. I can’t say. I’ve loved people, but I haven’t ever been in love. There is a difference between those two, I’m sure of it.

Should we set a precise date for that? ‘The end of time’ makes it seem inconsiderate of me to keep you waiting for so long, as if you’d be waiting forever. I don’t always plan my days, sometimes I just let them happen and sometimes I prefer to stay organized, but there is the vibe I’m receiving easily enough from this conversation that something like me running away with you to Paris shouldn’t be a spur of the moment thing.

If at first you don’t succeed, destroy all the evidence that you tried. I’ve heard that somewhere, but I deeply hope that it doesn’t apply to you, because if at first you don’t succeed I’d quite like you to tell me about it instead of pretending that you never tried at all. Promise?

I don’t have intentions of becoming a teacher, either – I wouldn’t be able to deal with the students, let alone get them quiet enough to teach them anything at all. It doesn’t frighten me that you have no plans beyond that – in fact, we’re similar when it comes to such a lack of goals for the future. So you’re serious, then, about traveling the whole world and facing it? Will you really leave me all alone in Paris? I would miss you. You steal money from your mother? Well, not steal, but you manipulate it out of her? I don’t know how to respond to that. I wouldn’t ever think of doing such a thing. But there’s something about you that’s stopping me from judging you for it. I don’t know what, but there is.

I’m glad to hear that. You’ve made my holidays very enjoyable as well, if that wasn’t already clear.

Hope your days continue to be just as lovely as you are,
Clara

[Julian Sørensen]

Dearest Clara,

For you, darling, of course I'll stop. I thank you kindly for your compliment - eloquence is not something I am often referred to as possessing - and I think it is probably best if those letters stay firmly away from daylight. I suspect they are rather embarrassing. Equally, should you ever want them, I have all your letters here next to me and intend to keep them for days when I find myself feeling unhappy. They really have had the most uplifting effect on my holidays. I feel the same way about you, my dear. I know very few people from the inside-out - at least, I feel I know the characters of many simply from observing them, but to really know a person I feel like you have to talk to them. Find out how they view themselves in order to paint a more rounded picture of them. Does that make any sense? You cannot truly know a person until you know the whole them, from their hopes to their dreams to their deepest darkest fears and secrets. I'd like you to know me, Clara. Ask me anything you like, I shall not hold back.

To my face I am called very little, I have to admit. But behind my back I am well aware that I'm called all manner of things - you really have to admire the creativity of our peers, don't you? Rude, stuck-up, vain, supercilious. I'll be the first to admit that perhaps I do have a slight superiority complex - but who wouldn't, surrounded by these morons? And you're not awkward at all, darling. I find you entirely enchanting, as a matter of fact. I fail to understand how it could be weird No, in fact, I do understand why it might be strange, if people really notice you so rarely as you think. But you are beautiful, Clara. If I have to tell you that every day from now until we are a hundred to get you to believe it then I shall. And you are not forward at all, dear heart. Thank you for saying that.

Your compliments have swayed me - also, you drive a hard bargain. I enclose a set of poems with this letter on good faith that you will return a drawing or two to me. Forgive their pretentiousness, I beg you. I am absolutely certain that I am going to adore your artwork - how could I not? It is you who have created it. I could never find it anything other than magnificent.

Listen to me - or read me closely - Clara Russell. You do not sound pathetic. And you shall never, never tire me. Do you understand? And there is always hope, darling. Always. You might have to look hard to find it, but you will, I swear to you. One more thing that I promise to you - somebody is going to love you, Clara. Somebody worthy of you and your magical, astonishing mind. And I do not think you strange at all. I think love is a thing to be worked at. It might arrive all in a rush but you have to make at least a little effort. Maybe when it does truly happen we'll find out if it is unstoppable or not - but personally I have never been in love, so I could not say. But you are correct - there are many different ways of loving people and none of them are quite the same. I love my mother dearly, but not the same way that I might love you, for example. It's just different, intrinsically, in a way that is impossible to define.

My dear, any time would be good for me to run away to Paris with you. I promise you that. Now, tomorrow, the end of time - I swore to you that I would wait and I will. But how about we make a deal? If we both reach twenty-five and have not yet gone, then we'll just go the first time we run into each other after that point. How does that sound? And as for running away to Paris - oh, darling, that should always be a spur-of-the-moment thing. We'll just hop onto a Muggle train and buy anything we need when we get there and rent a little apartment near the Seine and take long walks. Let's go in the winter, though. Paris in the winter is unbearably gorgeous and I think you will look extremely fetching in winter coats with your cheeks red from the cold.

Clara, I promise to you here and now, with my owl as witness, that you shall know when I try - although I do so hope to succeed.

You suffer from a similar lack of direction, then? It rather worries my father but frustrates him more that it fails to worry me. Personally I find it all rather exciting. And of course I'm serious. Perhaps I should explain - I am often serious where it seems like I'm not. I really would like to run away to Paris with you. I should adore to travel the world. I would never leave you alone in Paris! I would take you with me anywhere I went. Paris for the wintertime and then Russia for the spring, South America for the summer, England for the autumn and then Paris again for winter. And then different places every year. Exciting, no? I don't exactly manipulate - although I could, if I wanted. My mother is a dear soul and I love her to pieces, distraction, etc., but she is not the brightest spark in the fire and besides it honestly does not set her back at all to give me money. She has plenty and spends most of it on her hair and face. Would you think better of me if I swore that I never take money from her to misbehave? Any money I use for alcohol or drugs or anything she would not approve of is only ever my own. Is that better? I cannot stand the idea of you disliking something about me.

Again I risk being forward here, but I don't suppose you would like to have dinner with me one day this week, or perhaps the next? If not dinner then lunch, a coffee, a long walk, a swim, anything. I should just like to talk to you face-to-face, since your face is such a wonder. Would you be happy to at least consider it?

Yours hopefully,
Julian