AN: "Letters..." was intended to be a one-shot, but the reviews inspired me to write more. Thanks to all the reviewers, you made my day and encouraged a new writer. Thank you. Here's what happened next.
Draco put down his quill, stretched and sat back in his chair. He'd just finished writing a letter to his lover, and although it wasn't going to be sent, he felt happier now he'd written down his feelings for her. He couldn't quite bring himself to burn the letter yet, so he left it on the table, stood up and wandered into the kitchen for a drink. His owl, Lyra, hooted softly, waiting to be let out of her cage to hunt. He opened the cage door and started cleaning it out, expecting Lyra to fly out of the window behind him. Instead, she swooped through the open doorway, pausing only to grab Draco's letter from the desk. Draco, occupied in the kitchen, didn't even notice.
………………….
200 miles away, a young woman crouched under a large bush as she waited for the death eaters to pass by. She wasn't expecting to see the owl that landed next to her, and was even more surprised to find it offering a piece of parchment from its beak, rather than its leg.
Shrugging slightly, so as not to disturb the bush, she reached out and took the letter, offering an owl treat as she did so.
"Wait up in the trees, Lyra. I can't reply just yet," was the soft whisper.
Unfolding the parchment, she began to read.
………………….
Draco strolled back into the study, intending to read his letter through once more before committing it to the flames. Reaching his desk, he realised it was no longer there, and the next thing he knew was the feel of standing in a puddle of scalding coffee, where he'd dropped the mug he'd been carrying.
A loud shriek of pain ensued, and Draco jumped high in the air. As he landed, he realised that she (and most of her friends, come to think of it) would have found the jumping hilarious, and reminiscent of the time he'd been transfigured into a ferret. He couldn't repress a shudder at the memory, despite "Ferret" being used as a pet name now.
"Reparo." There, that was the mug (his favourite) fixed.
"Scourge." And you'd never know he'd even spilt a drop of coffee on the cream coloured carpet.
Now to deal with the burning in his feet…
…………………….
Back on the front line, a loud gasp was heard as she finished reading the letter.
"What's wrong?" whispered Harry.
"Just a letter I didn't expect," came the reply. "Nothing to worry about."
"If you're sure, then. Look, we can take on those two, easy," pointing at two death eaters patrolling the area.
And it was back to their normal routine again, at least for the moment. A reply would just have to wait.