Tears rolled down her cheeks as she blinked disbelievingly at the piece of paper in her hand. The shock of receiving the letter which she had dreaded with a wifes fear every day was etched into her face, her pain evident to all who would look upon her.

"We regret to inform you…"

Those five little words that any woman with someone she loved at the front hoped never to read, and yet expected throughout every minute of the day. Five little words… they could destroy worlds.

Opening a drawer on her dresser, she withdrew the letters which she had received throughout the past six months. A dozen or so pieces of paper, all she had left of her husband. Holding the letters to her chest, she could see his face. His beautiful face, now lost to her until she met him again in the world beyond this one. He had been only 23 years old when he had heard the music of the piper. The music that had taken him and thousands like him to fight a war that they had no place in, against people they did not know, and in cities they had never heard of. Had caused him to rebel against his father, and trust in the light.
However, it was not the face of the man who had walked onto the ship that she saw. She saw the face of a young boy, who had called her a mudblood all those years ago. Arrogant and extremely self-assured, yet she could see the fear and uncertainty beneath his mask. Unknowing of the fate that was closing on him with every breath.

He had been special. The Slytherin Prince, raised from birth to follow in his father's footsteps and to become a Death Eater. The best in his House, Seeker, skillfull in Potions. He had excelled in everything he did, no matter what it was. And now… Now he was just another young man who had given everything to the cause that he loved.
She decided to read the letters one more time. Perhaps they would offer her some cold comfort against the hollow ache that had slowly grown into her soul, until it threatened to consume her.
They did.
In reading the first letter, she could almost believe that her husband still lived. She could feel close to the man that was now so far away.

My dearest 'Mione,
It is with great joy that I am able to write to you on this beautiful day. We have landed safely in France, although I must confess that there were some anxious times during the journey. Damn Death Eaters. They did us no lasting harm though, God be praised.
Training in Egypt went quite well. It was a world apart from that of home.The pyramids, and all of the sand! Not even Hagrid's Hut could hold so much sand, for all that he might try. There were a lot of interesting things to see and do, and such interesting souvenirs! I did buy you a present, for Christmas. You shall have to wait until I get home to have it though - I want to see the look on your beautiful face when I get it to you.
The other fellows here are capital chaps. Most of them are from Beauxbatons or Durmstrang. It has become apparent that I am the only Hogwarts graduate in my battalion, and as such I have all ready been nicknamed. The chaps have decided to call me 'Lion', for apparently we Hogwarts fellows are the bravest out there! What would dear old daddy say is he heard of myself being aligned with the symbol of Gryffindor? Probably not as much as he said when I married one, but still... It is all in good fun though, so I do not mind.
I must go now, my love. We are about to start a game of Quidditch, and I have been chosen to play seeker for the Kappas.
With all the love in my heart,
Your Draco.

So happy, so full of life. Even in the face of danger, the smarmy bastard could enjoy a game of Quidditch and tease her. As she lowered the letter, the image of him in her mind changed. He was no longer the little boy she remembered with amusement. She now saw him as he walked away from her for the last time, 6 months ago. She had been forced to stay at home in Hogsmeade, where she would be protected, as she was two months pregnant with their child. She heard his words, echoing in her ears through the passage of time, yet so clear that he could have been standing next to her. A breathless snog, a warm embrace, and a cheerful "See you at Christmas". His last words to her.
She forced her tears back. She wanted to read the next letter. To comfort herself. To save herself.

Ma chère 'Mione,
My French has improved greatly since we arrived. My battalion have now been sent into active battle against the giants, in the mountains of France. It has not stopped raining for the past two weeks, but there are still good things about being here. We still get to play Quidditch occasionally. We had a game on Christmas Day, and honestly 'Mione, it was one of the best days of my life (except maybe the day I married you). All of the blokes say that I am an exceptional player - they have given me the honour of captaining the squad. I never have been able to be ordinary, have I?…

Never ordinary. She could imagine the characteristic smirk on his face when he wrote that. That was the way that most people described her husband. Exceptional at everything he did. Stunning at school. A wry sense of humour that, when he chose to show it, made everyone he met fall in love with him. He was handsome, too, and she still couldn't understand why he had chosen her. But he had, and he'd made her the happiest she'd ever been.

She continued to read, and eventually reached the last letter. The tears began to slowly form behind her eyes again. This was the letter that had broken her heart. She had received it only a few days before his beautiful spirit had been taken away from her - and yet when she had first read this letter, it seemed as if a part of him had already died.

Dear Hermione,
This place is just so disconcerting. All of the light has gone out of the world, 'Mione. This place is just so dark. Nothing makes any sense anymore. Mindless killing, such pointless pain.
We are preparing to go into the final battle next week. Dumbledore and Potty bark orders at everyone, and treat everyone horribly. No-one is special anymore.
I see it now so clearly. To think that I was ever extraordinary was laughable. At the end of the day, when the sun goes down, I am exactly the same as every other wizard and muggle here.
Just a face in the crowd.

Just a face in the crowd. Her beautiful husband, so precious, so special to her. He had been the light of her life for the past 5 years, and now… he was just a memory.

Controlling the pain inside of her, holding back the tears, she walked to the window. All throughout Hogsmeade, she could see the women who had been left behind. Women with faces that had to be masks. Silently hiding the pain that they would bare for the rest of their lives.
Looking at these women, seeing a mirror of her own feelings, a realisation came to her. She, too, was just a face in the crowd.