Taste of Youth

The desk area smelled like pencil shavings, ink and coffee. I settled down on the rickety wooden chair and ran my hand over the blank paper and the feathers of the quills in a jar in the corner of the desk. There were postage stamps in the first drawer and a piece of paper with the therapy houses address on it. The next drawer had the watercolors I had gotten him back in grade school and all of the happy birthday and get well cards and drawings I’d ever made him. My chest constricted painfully and I pulled them out setting them one by one on the desk.

Leon had put them all in order, the first from when I was five and he had gotten the chicken pox. There was a polka-doted blotch on the paper that said, “Ciken is sowry.” The last one was a birthday card from when I was eleven with the words “You’re getting old now.” in big block letters. I looked at them, all of the crusting glitter globs and misspelled words and unintentionally insulting phrases and the urge to cry again was nearly unbearable. He had kept them, even the ones when he was thirteen told me he thought they were stupid. He just kept them, all of these unimportant things.

I picked the cards up in order and placed them back in the desk drawer. The drawer after it held letters, hundreds and hundreds of letters and I would have closed the drawer again but the address caught my eye. It was the address to the therapy house with my name scrawled in Leon’s weirdo-boy box letters. I pulled out three thick stacks of letters hand set them on the desk. The twine around them fell away with a single tug and the first stack spilled out a couple falling into my lap. Every last one of the letters in the stack had my name and the therapy house address and the date starting from the day he would have come home from school when our mother sent me away. I tugged open the other two and it was the same. My name, the therapy house address and the date all the way up to nine months before he died. I searched for the first letter for a moment and broke it open, a single sheet fell into my hand. I pulled my glasses out of my pocket and slipped them on staring at the boxy handwriting.

Dear Luce,
I’m so sorry. I should have been there to convince mom to leave you alone. I should have been around and I’m sorry that I wasn’t but I’m trying now. I found a lawyer that would help me finally and I’m going to try to get custody of you. So don’t worry sis. You’ll be out in no time.
Leon.

I put one hand over my mouth struggling with my emotions. He had been sorry, for what I didn’t really understand none of it had been his fault, but he had so easily scrawled down the words I’d been waiting the past five years for. I folded the paper back up and opened the next one. He was saying how sorry he was again, sorry that he couldn’t help me. I opened more and more about how crappy his school was and how he wished he could think of something else that might help me. I opened another as the sun reflected blindingly off the surface of the lake and into the room telling me it was nearly noon.

Dear Luce,
I found your acceptance letter. Is this why she sent you away? For being able to do magic? I think I hate her even more now. Should I tell you another secret sis? I can do magic too. Mom flipped out back then too, that’s why I have to go to this idiotic boarding school because I can do magic, because I’m a wizard. Can you believe that? Isn’t there something in the motherhood rule book about accepting you children no matter what? Guess she failed at that huh.
Leon

I laughed at that my shoulders shaking at his words and his disbelief. I could almost see him grunting his disapproval and giving me his “Can you believe this?” look that he was always so good at. His next couple of letters sounded so excited, he was graduating and he wished I could be there so that I could catch his cap. Leon was planning on contacting the school he’d gotten an acceptance letter from when he was eleven. He was meeting with Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster, next week at the little dinner he would take me on Sundays. He was telling me about how he got accepted and how eager he was to get his wizarding schooling, telling me that maybe he would be able to get me out if he did, a kidnapping so to speak. He was leaving for London soon and was worried, he’d tried to visit at the home again but they wouldn’t let him in. Leon was telling me everything about Hogwarts he could, there had been a Quiditch game recently and he found it much more exciting than football. There was a laps in dates and his next letter was apologetic, school work was drowning him but the Headmaster said he would graduate in the next few months.

He was telling me about the disappearances that had started up, a fellow Muggle-born classmate had gone missing and he was worrying again. Leon was telling me about his graduation and his job offer, “An Auror, Luce, can you believe it? They actually trust me wielding my wand in public, a dangerous thing I assure you.” More letters about disappearances and he was telling me he could feel something dangerous brewing. A letter about how his job was going a lot of false alarms and frayed nerves, things were getting worse in the field but the Ministry was keeping it under covers.

Dear Luce,
It’s getting cold over here again, maybe if I’m lucky it’ll be a white Christmas. The Ministry is hiding things from the Auror's again, Luce. People higher up are getting worried and there's talk that a war might start up in a few years. I hope not, I don’t have the stomach for battle. Dumbledore offered me a job as a teacher, Defense! I’ll be handing in my resignation letter to my boss soon. I can’t believe it’s been three years since I’ve seen you. Have a good birthday. Love you.
Leon.

He wasn’t hiding anything in his letters, just like when he told me that one time that Santa didn’t exist. The next letter was about his first class, he felt bad for the poor Hufflepuff first years that were stuck with the Slytherin first years, “They’ll be eaten alive before the end of the year, Luce!” He was whining about how disrespectful the sixth years were being and complaining about Sirius and James. They’d set his chalkboard on fire again and McGonagall was going to wring him for it. Sirius and James were acting up in his next letter too as well as a couple of the older Gryffindor girls who had followed him to his rooms, “I prefer the pranksters to this lot, I thought these girls were going to jump me! Scary.” Some letters telling me about the order and a girl he met there, Marlene McKinnon. He went on about her for a few pages. The sky outside was getting dark now the remaining light slanting off of the open letters.

Dear Luce,
I might not be able to write for a while. Dumbledore is sending me to protect the Abbot family. The son is a wizard but the parents are only Muggles. Dumbledore’s worried about the events that are going on, the older students have started to catch on. A lot of them are reading the few pieces of truth in the Prophet and the rest of the trash they print. I’m getting worried about you Luce, all of the letters I’ve sent are returned and that nurse won’t forward my calls. I think I’ll have enough money this year to get a good lawyer to appeal your custody rights. I hope I can see you soon. I’ll take you to this amazing wizarding coffee shop that I found, their coffee is magical. Love you baby sis.
Leon

I leaned on my elbows and stared at the last letter as the sun fell away behind the horizon. My stomach gave an angry rumble and I folded up the letter deciding food was an excellent idea. I put the letters back into the drawer and kept the last one for myself, folding it as small as it would go and putting in the same pocket that held my picture of Shannon and me. Looking around the room, I sighed and took off my glasses before leaving the room The girl in the painting across from my brothers room looked up from her bottle at me as I left.

“You find him in there?” She hiccuped sounding sarcastic and swishing her bottle drunkenly at me.