I find myself writing to you from a new, unplanned destination. It seems I have been transported from one place in time to another, without the aid of a time-turner. In fact, I am unsure of how exactly I reached this place, but have come to understand that I am not alone. Several other wizards and witches have found themselves displaced here as well. It has come at a most inconvenient time for me. As you know, I am on a most important journey. Or perhaps you do not know, as I have no way of learning whether or not you read the letters I send to you. Still, for all the things you can and likely have called me, you can never say I have not persisted in faithfully reaching out to you. I do so again, as I have learned through word of mouth that you too have been plucked out of the timeline you were living in and brought to this place as well. I actually saw what I know to be a line of your handwriting, so I cannot blame your lack of communication on you suddenly becoming illiterate.
I know not why you have never addressed me back. Perhaps you blame me for the incident that day, or more likely perhaps you blame yourself. But surely you must recall there were three wands raised that day. I wish not to dredge up the past, though, in hopes that you might speak with me in person on another matter. I have heard, more or less, that mine is a name spoken throughout history long into the next century. One of the ladies in the village offered to show me where I can find books on both myself and of the Hallows, but I wish rather than to read it to hear it spoken from you should you know it. I do not want to learn of my future from books written by men, but rather from the source. I know you too well to think you turned a blind eye to me forever, Albus, and have always felt in my heart we would meet again. Can you not say the same? Surely you know, there has never been another I have come across I could call my equal other than you. The severance of our bond has caused me a great deal of grief, though I am loathe to admit such things.
The hour grows late, and I must deliver this to you before it grows any later. It is easy to ignore me while I am journeying through Europe, Albus, but not when I live in the same building as you. Would it not be best to meet under planned circumstances rather than accidentally running into each other in passing? I shall leave the fate of our meeting in your hands.