Disclaimer:
Well unfortunately, I do not own any part of this story that you recognise. However, If you don't it is completely and utterly mine.
Possibly.
My second hundred word drabble. I now have a beta reader so hopefully there are no mistakes.
Mucho love to Happy.Hippo.From.Heaven!!
He writes her letters every week. As he address the letter, he imagines her face as she opens it: her swirling chocolate eyes lighting up as she recognises the handwriting; the way her laugh will echo around the room as he tells her about Blaise's incident with a muggle electric fence; the way tears will run down her freckled cheeks when she reads how much he loves her and how much he wishes he was there, with her. But he never sends the letters. He can't because he is a Deatheater and she is the Weasley girl. It kills him.
A/N: If you would like a sequel let me know, In fact, like it? hate it? let me know!