Dear Stuck-up Jerk of an Elf,
I'm very odd for an elf, I realize that. Few others do, though. I've managed to blend in rather well, if I do say so myself. Apart from the whole most famous child in the wizarding world thing, I can make myself blend into any situation. Long ago I learned the utmost importance of becoming invisible without an invisibility cloak.
Really, it's rather funny how completely I changed myself. I do believe that dear Professor Snape would have a heart attack if he could see me now. I'm considered intelligent. Not just intelligent, but wise as well. I always thought of it as the ultimate prank on the wizarding world, actually. A Slytherin who was completely Gryffindor to the rest of the world, hiding everything important from prying eyes.
I can thank the same people who taught me un-invisible invisibility for that skill as well.
That was always my problem, you see. I hide far too well. It's bad enough when no one else knows there is a hiding game. Worse is when they can't even tell that you are hiding, because you're doing it in plain sight. Worst of all is knowing that quite possibly no one actually cares if you are or not. But I'll tell you a secret- I'm actually too much of a coward to see if there is anyone who really cares that I'm hiding.
I wasn't always, but then they got killed. Actually, it happened a couple times, if you think on it. First my parents and all of their friends. Then my friends at Hogwarts. I lost even more friends to Mordor. See? I did try once I got here. Yes, I couldn't believe that I got involved in ANOTHER war either. After that last war though, there was nothing left. Only one friend survived, and he lives in Lorien with his brothers. There's irony or something like it in the fact that I'm second choice once again. It's always something or somebody else. Dudley, the Greater Good, social status- only Ron and Hermione cared about me beyond everything else.
I can't say my parents, because they had a choice. They could have gone back to their families, decided that I was more important than the prophecy. Dumbledore convinced them to stay, and then lied to them about the Fidelius. Either of my parents could have held the secret, they didn't need Pettigrew. Still, I don't blame them for staying, but they chose the Greater Good over me.
But I digress. I'm an odd elf on the inside, because I still measure time more as a human than as an elf. My logic (which I still have, despite years with elves and wizards of various kinds) is different. I don't just burst out into song or dance or poetry. I'm not a very good female, either. I hate dresses and bright colours and PINK. I know that compared to others, I am very cold. Expressionless. Emotionless. I have never and could never care about anyone besides myself. Ha!
Despite myself, I know that I would walk unarmed into Mordor, if Lord Elrond asked it. If his children were in trouble, I would quite likely do something heroic and idiotic to save them. Lindir- I would walk across the world to keep him smiling, the dear heart. Figwit, kind soul that he is, I can never stay cross at him. The cook, who always has a nice word for me and worries about my diet. The guard who always smiles at me when I pass, because I remind him of his sister. Even Gildor, that careless wanderer of an elf, who never stops trying to make me laugh, and brings me silly little things, and hugged me when a stupid little toy he brought me made me cry. He never told.
Despite myself, I care for others. Far more than they care for me, but that's fine. I'm rather used to it, of course.
Perhaps you are wondering why I am writing this. I'm not sure myself. You can't read it, no one besides myself can, it's in English. Even if you could read it, you wouldn't understand the things I've written about my past life. It's just that you hate me, and I don't know why.
Yes, I'm different, but you aren't exactly the average elf yourself. It would be nice if you could just leave me alone. You scare me sometimes, because I never got over my reflexes and instincts built from first the Dursleys and multiple wars. You get that air about you, as though saying that if it were not for my gender, bad things would happen. I get rather tense, I can't help it. Why won't you tell me what I did that's so wrong?
You are an arrogant fool, too full of yourself to see that perhaps someone is hurting. Too blind to realize that different isn't automatically bad. I try to avoid you, but unfortunately we work for the same person.
I'm not going to sail, though. Nothing could make me spend the rest of until the world ends with you and your ilk. Because despite those few who act nice to me, the rest follow your lead. I'm a pariah in Rivendell now, thanks to you. Glares, hostile remarks, and the rumours! I can only imagine how much worse it will be in Valinor, where your title as Lord will mean even more.
No. I will take the risk of staying. I can blend in with humans, even if it means leaving a lot. I don't mind, I like travelling. I've never had a home, so it's not like I'm missing anything. I hope you're happy. I am only staying to see this fight with Sauron through. I'm no quitter, you see. Even you can't make me.
I won't let you get to me. Besides, it'd be rather lousy for me to survive so much (Vernon, Voldemort) only to get killed by a stuck up warrior. A stuck up BLONDE warrior at that. One of the fair folk. No way. I'm running on fumes, yes, but I still have that instinct to survive. You have nothing on the Cruciatus.
So I'm sorry that you hate me and I don't know why, but I won't give in. On the bright side, you'll be free of me once Sauron is defeated. I hope you're happy now, jerk.
Rose E. Potter, Girl Who Lived, Child of Destiny, Survivor.
Mithrandir came in, saving the parchment from the fire at the last moment. He had a feeling that this was important, and with a quick touch of magic, realized only a few moments later that a certain blonde warrior needed to read this.
With a smirk, he realized that this would shake things up a bit. Good thing too, since life was rather dull in Imladris at the moment. And honestly, the poor girl could use something to help her see how many people really did care. Humming a touch, he went to deliver the letter.