Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: It had been stupid they knew, to exchange letters in the midst of the war. But they hoped it would help them cling to sanity. It didn't. DG
He had been sitting on a leather chair when he received the first letter from her.
Dragon,
So…how are you doing?
Signed,
Flame
His mouth hung open in disbelief. The woman had the nerve to send a letter to him and the only thing she could think of was 'how are you doing?'! Absolutely daft!
But still…he found himself reaching for a spare bit of parchment and a quill to write a response to the shortest letter he had ever received.
--
She had been eating dinner at the Burrow when a brown owl landed in front of her, leg sticking out impatiently.
The Order of the Phoenix waited to hear who had written to her. Moody eyeing the paper suspiciously. Eventually Ron became frustrated and asked, "Well, who's it from then?"
She grinned.
"Just a friend from school."
'Flame' (If you really want to call yourself that.)
First off, if you're going to write to me (god only knows why you would do such a thing in these times) can you at least make your useless scribbles interesting?
Also, 'Dragon' isn't really a great alias for me because that's exactly what my name means so I'm afraid you'll have of think of a new one.
And to answer your question, I'm doing nothing of importance (or at least, I'm doing things I'm not going to tell you because technically you're my enemy on the battlefield.)
Signed,
D
--
Three weeks later certain words were commonly used in Order meetings. For example, "Death Eater scum" was a personal favourite of Ronald Weasely, "Trust no one" was at beginning of every sentence Moody said and "Everyone….dying…have to…stop…Voldemort" was the phrase used by a boy (man?) name Harry Potter. But the weirdest phrase that came by every once in awhile was used by the youngest Weasely and it went something like this.
"Has anyone seen my quill? I need to write a letter."
Nobody knew who she was writing to and whenever someone had the guts to actually ask the only answer they received was "Honestly, can't a person write a letter to a friend without being bombarded with millions of questions?!"
And the answer would always be: "No. You can't."
Then said Weasely would stalk away huffing, clearly irritated by the lack of privacy she received.
Flame,
I'm traveling elsewhere, do not write to me. It's getting more dangerous to do this. We're in a war Red, and we're treating it as if we're messing about in a sand box. You and I both know that eventually the letters will have to stop. We're on different sides of the war, we have different beliefs and understandings. What would happen if we had to kill each other?
Remember, don't write to me.
Sincerely,
D
And she sighed.
--
Draco was currently eating lunch outside, enjoying beautiful France. One couldn't tell but he was rather concerned at the reaction Red would have to his latest letter. Even more, he was really (and I mean really) agitated that he had no way of telling that she had even received said letter.
That was probably why he was rather surprised as on of the waiters came to his table and handed him a letter.
D,
I don't care what you say, I'm going to write you letters for as long as I like. And I know you're angry that the Order killed your mother. I'm sorry, I really am. Please, don't be mad at me. I didn't even know until…until you attacked Godric's Hollow.
I know we're not fighting on the same side but you have to understand that I need this connection. I need to talk to somebody outside of this little circle I've joined. I need conversations that don't involve grieving, death and plans on how to kill you. I need something light and free. And I know that you do to.
In hopes of starting again and ignoring these talks of war, death and schemes I've sent you another letter.
Sincerely,
Flame (or as you prefer 'Red')
He half-smiled, stubborn Weasely. He picked up the letter she had spoken of and noticed it had a completely different atmosphere to it.
D,
Today my brother was being such a jerk…
They talked of many things but never about the war. They didn't say what the other was planning. Draco never mentioned death eaters, meetings or who he killed. Ginny never mentioned if there were spies in Voldemort's inner circle, Order meetings or anything to do with Harry Potter.
But soon they found themselves talking of who the captured, who they killed and what dreadful sin they committed today.
--
A month passed.
Dragon,
We captured Nott today…
Two months passed.
Flame,
I killed your brother…
--
Three months and four days.
Dragon,
Crabbe's been killed…
-
Four months and five days. It became habit to tell the other who they killed.
Flame,
Sorry, for murdering your father…
-
D,
Sorry, for slaughtering yours…
--
Six months. It became habit to go to funerals. And to attack on those days.
Dragon,
Thanks for ambushing us on Bill's funeral…
-
Red,
Only giving you the same courtesy you gave on the day of Pansy's funeral…
--
Ten months. They spoke of the past.
Dragon,
I remember when we use to meet in the kitchens at four in the morning…
-
Red,
Remember the pillow fight you insisted we have?
--
Eight months. They spoke of nightmares.
Dragon,
I had a dream last night. I was tortured to death in it…
-
Red,
I started clawing at my mark, wishing it would disappear…I think I drew blood…
--
One year. We see his depression.
Red,
I'm going to die in this rotten fight and if I don't I'll kill myself.
--
One year and one month. We see her troubles.
Dragon,
I know we'll win, I know we will. But if we do what will become of us…?
--
One year and three months. There was nothing left of him now.
Red,
I can't keeping doing this everyday. I can't wake up in the morning and I can't sleep at night. Everything's torture…
--
One year and five months. She was lost, and there was no one.
Dragon,
Fred died today…it's just me and Ron now.
--
One year and six months. He lost his mind.
Red,
I killed a little girl…she was only six…
--
One year and seven months. She lost her hope.
Dragon,
We won't win…this never ending struggle will never stop. Sure Harry's stronger now but…
--
One year and nine months. He couldn't care less.
Red,
I don't care who wins anymore. Just get on with it already and let's see who wins…
--
One year, nine months and eight days. Her birthday.
Dragon,
I didn't celebrate, we were too busy attacking your forces.
--
One year and 10 months. It was Halloween.
Harry James Potter defeated Lord Voldemort. No letters were exchanged.
--
In four days an Auror would find the body of Draco L. Malfoy, drowing in his own blood.
In six days Hermione J. Granger would witness Ginerva M. Weasely jump off a cliff.
In one week, two funerals will be held. There will be no surprise attacks, death threats, secret Order meetings, enraged Death Eaters and there certainly won't be any letters.