Lucius,

When the screaming in my mind stops, I dream of you. I imagine how he, how Severus, died, and then when it becomes too much I think of you. Without him there would have been no us, and I must admit that in my nightmares his blood is on your hands. And then it is on mine, and my face and my dress and my thighs. Draco said I must never ask after you, so I won't. Don't tell me how you are, or how Draco is, or Narcissa. Just tell me what you think about at night. Please.

Hermione


Hermione,

I sleep, as you might imagine, in your bed. Not at night, because I cannot sleep then, in the dark. In the day, with the filtered light keeping me warm. Your scent lingers still and it keeps the demons as far away as they can be. They are, unfortunately, much closer than you.

Lucius


Lucius,

We will never see each other again, but I will never forget your face and how it looked between my hands.

The remembering is not enough.

Hermione


Hermione,

I burn your letters after I read them, so that you remain my secret. To see you on parchment is too much, and I find it easier to part with the words before they overcome me completely.

Lucius


Lucius,

I keep your letters forever with me, tucked in a pouch in my handbag. It does not make it easier, but nothing will, so why bother?

I often wonder if I am fooling myself in thinking that I am the only prisoner you ever loved. Charity Burbage was an attractive young woman, and I know you would have had endless opportunities to have your way with her. And how many others before her?

It is very big and empty out here in the world, and I am very afraid.

Hermione


Hermione,

Let me assure, ten thousand times over, that you were the only one. You will always be the only one. You were the only one that the solitude did not ruin. I knew you were stronger and braver and more endlessly divine than the others. I guess I had always known that, though.

Lucius


Dear Lucius,

I am going mad, no, I am mad without you. You have ruined me entirely for this cruel new world. There are no real demons here, and thus I am tormented only by my imagination, and there is nothing I can do to fight it. And what of other men? How am I to react to their attentions? Am I to be alone for all eternity?

I want so desperately to come back to the little white room and it's safety.

Hermione


Hermione,

Don't say such terrible things. I know that you are capable of becoming who you were before our months together. And if you are not, I urge you to be who you are after them, a new, stronger woman who can fight her own battles. Do not make me regret our time together, for I don't believe I will ever be able to.

Lucius


Darling,

I miss you every second of every day, like a piece of me is missing. Ron asks me every morning if I am ok, and I always tell him I am. You have made a liar of me.

My friends would never approve of, or understand my suffering. So are they really my friends?

Love,

Hermione


Hermione,

We cannot be together. I understand that that's what you're asking for, but it can never be so. Think of all the battles and ideas that are between us. Think of how hard we worked to separate my kind from yours. Think of those who died, and what they would say. And do not think of how you first kissed me when I was so afraid.

Lucius


Lucius,

Lucius, Lucius, Lucius. I rock myself to sleep repeating your name, feeling it roll across my tongue. No song is sad enough to soothe me the way it does, and no blanket warm enough. I don't work anymore, and I don't go out. I just stay in my room and wish for it to be evermore smaller and evermore white.

Love,

Hermione


Hermione,

This will be my last letter to you, and it is to be an apology. You were never mine, not the way I wished you were, and deluded myself into believing you were. When you were in my home you were Severus Snape's, and when you were not you were your own person. I should not have treated you as I did, or let myself become close to you. I never should have kissed you on that blessed Tuesday, or let your head slide into my lap later the same week. It is my fault entirely that you have lost yourself, and I intend for you to regain your self-worth once more. Do not write me again, and we shall both have to do our bests to forget the spring days you spent in the white room.

With Care,

Lucius


Lucius,

I will never stop writing to you, not as long as there is ink and parchment and not as long as there are words in my mind. You are my everything, and one does not simply give everything away by cause of a letter.

Love, Love, Love,

Hermione


The next day he came for her in the dead of night and stole her away, back to the tiny white room.