Who let this Dementor into Hogwarts!

Chapter 528 "Dear Rose"

First letter
Dear Rose,

There are some things that are hard to say to you face to face, ever since...

The beginning of the letter was hastily crossed out, stopping after "yo" in "when you".

Then, Edward started writing again from the beginning in the blank space below.

Dear Rose,

I want to ask you out—

When Edward wrote this sentence, it was as if someone had shoved him; the pen drew a straight hook across the paper, and then the entire passage was discarded.

After flipping through several pages, Cohen finally found a love letter that was somewhat complete.

Dear Rose,

Writing this letter might be a hallucination of mine, or it might not be.

When I first saw you, you captivated me like a fairy in a lake. I felt as if my whole world consisted only of you. When I couldn't see you, I couldn't remember anything, and even my heart stopped beating, like a wizard locking his own heart, which would soon be covered in terrifying hair. (This part is crossed out in red ink)

If you have the chance, I'd like to invite you to have some drinks with me at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade this weekend.

Edward Charles Norton

The love letter had been edited, with a comment written in red ink with a completely different handwriting.

"The Wizard's Hairy Heart?" Seriously, bro? You're using a reference from Beedle the Bard's Tales to pick up women? And you specifically chose the most disgusting one? Rewrite it, rewrite it, don't copy a single word of this into your final letter.

This letter was clearly discarded, and Edward's strategist was none other than the dear bald Arnold.

Cohen flipped through a few pages and found another letter, which also had Arnold's annotations, but this one was clearly much better than the previous one.

Dear Rose,

There's something I've always been afraid to tell you face-to-face.

I like you, your lake-blue eyes, your long brown hair draped over your shoulders, the way you beat away those Slytherin students, and the lavender scent on your body. I like you more than anything else in the world, and I want to be with you. (Arnold’s comment: So crazy, like a perverted old wizard following a little girl. Who asked you to mention her scent?)

If possible, I'd like to invite you to visit Hogsmeade this weekend.

It's at least a good start; there's nothing particularly offensive about it.

Moreover, Cohen felt that it wouldn't be a big deal to send the letter directly to Rose, since Rose had already said that she had liked Edward for a long time—it was just that Edward hadn't taken the first step.

Judging from the timing of the letter, Edward should have already become "friends" with Rose by this time, but he never felt that he was dating Rose.

The next letter was not from Edward to Rose, but from Rose to Edward.

Edward

Saturday afternoon at two o'clock, Hogsmeade, the table furthest south of the three broomsticks, no one is allowed to be absent.

Rose

Very well, Edward spent a long time preparing a letter but didn't send it out; instead, he was invited out by Rose first.

Is this what it means for a woman to pursue a man...?

Cohen felt like he was watching a science fiction story, not a real-life romance...

"Cohen? Have you finished reading? Can we take a look—pick something we can see?" Harry, still full of gossip, asked Cohen across several tables. "No," Cohen replied dismissively, "there's a whole stack more to come."

The following letters were still from Edward to Rose, but they all seemed to be unsent versions, and there were no other letters Rose sent back—Cohen guessed that most of the letters Rose sent to Edward were treasured by Edward in the only cabinet in the house that he was not allowed to look through.

And the letter Edward sent to Rose certainly wouldn't be in here; there's no reason to take back a mailed letter.

A large portion of the letters were very cheesy—such as "You are the only sun in my eyes" and "I love you like dew loves flowers, waves chase the breeze, and tides rush towards the moon."

But the last few letters that weren't sent seemed to have a different style; they were very short, and the topics they discussed didn't seem very pleasant.

Dear Rose,

I'd like to invite you out for a walk at the Christmas ball. I heard about what happened to your family and I'm very sorry about it. Perhaps a walk together will help you calm down.

Dear Rose,

I heard from Vicky that you often mutter a name, Constantine. Herbert's son's disappearance wasn't your fault. You don't even go back to that godforsaken place anymore. You're nothing like those lunatics. Maybe you could come stay with me sometime? My house is quite big.

Dear Rose,

I have a big surprise for you! You absolutely must come to the graduation party. Don't worry, I won't wear that gaudy wizard robe.

There was also a simple line drawing of a ring at the end, the meaning of which is obvious.

Edward plans to propose to Rose on graduation night.

But the letter was never sent, which means the proposal was postponed.

Cohen speculated that it was due to Voldemort's rampage, or perhaps because Rose's closest brother, Herbert, had lost his children one after another.

Cohen selected a few early, less mundane love letters, magically removed the marks Arnold had made on them, folded them up, and planned to save them for a crucial moment—such as Edward and Rose's wedding anniversary—before giving Edward's letters to Rose.

“It’s going to be a spectacular sight,” Harry said enviously. “So, Cohen, aren’t you really going to show us?”

“No, some paragraphs are too wooden, and I’m afraid they’ll affect the format of your love letters in the future.” Cohen shook his head seriously. “Don’t imitate this. He didn’t win over his wife with love letters.”

"So what does he rely on? Board games?" Ron asked.

“Because Mrs. Norton has liked him for a long time,” Hermione said, staring at Ron.

“Oh, um, maybe…” Ron stammered.

"So Harry, when are you planning to write a few letters to the Basilisk too—" Cohen asked.

But Harry immediately refused.

“She should forget me,” Harry said firmly. “Besides… this isn’t the right time…”

“Then let’s wait for the right time,” Cohen said. “Sophia even learned English for you.”

"No way..." Harry took a deep breath.

“I know you still think she’s cute, don’t you?” Cohen coaxed Harry from the side.

Ron and Hermione sat down together, seemingly gossiping, and looked at Harry with raised eyebrows.

"Alright, alright, stop with this nonsense," Harry said, scratching his head. "I don't even know how I feel about her—she's a snake!"

(End of this chapter)