Dear Stranger

Chapter Two

Dear Stranger,

Shakespeare is one of my favorites and Hamlet one of my favorite of his works. If I were to recommend a comedy to you it would be Much Ado About Nothing, very funny and not nearly as complicated as A Midsummer Night's Dream. Macbeth is one of my least favorites, it's much too dark and there isn't a single enjoyable character. If you ever need book recommendations I'd say I'm a fairly reliable source. I probably spend an unhealthy amount of time reading, but then again I don't believe reading could ever be unhealthy. Reading was my preferred form of escape from unhappiness after the War and it certainly helped, so there it is; reading simply cannot be unhealthy.

Anyways, I suppose I should relay another interesting fact about myself since you were so obliging in your last letter. I absolutely adore the fall. It's my favorite season, so I'm happier than usual lately because it is September and September means crisp air, warm jumpers, and the start of the new school year. I know I can't tell you where I attended but I will tell you this, I loved school. I love learning and school was where I thrived. I was always exceedingly happy at the start of term, so whenever September rolls around I think about how exceedingly happy I was when I was a schoolgirl at this time of year and I feel inclined to be just as happy again. I walk outside in the morning and the air is clean and fresh and when I come home from work I fix myself a cup of tea, grab a book, and nestle under a blanket on the couch while looking out my window and think about how picture perfect everything is in the fall.

But enough of that, I know we've been writing each other consistently about our emotions for 5 months, but there is so much to learn about you. If you don't mind I'd very much like to request another interesting something about you or your life.

Until we write again,

Your Stranger

Draco couldn't help a smile after reading the letter for what must have been the 7th time. He was absolutely enthralled with this woman and it was killing him on the inside knowing that he would most likely never meet her. She was perfect. She was kind and funny and she understood him. Not only would he probably never meet her, even if he wanted to he'd have to find a way out of his relationship with Pansy first. At this point it couldn't even be considered a relationship. Draco was conned into a relationship with Pansy after she scared him into thinking she was pregnant at the end of September after the War had ended. It didn't take long for Draco to find out the truth, but Pansy still had the upper hand. Her family was wealthy and therefore had a lot of influence and if she played her cards correctly she could have gotten Draco's year long stint in Azkaban greatly extended. Thankfully Draco had been able to sort out a bargain with Pansy in order to keep her from tampering with his gracious prison sentence; he agreed to a year long relationship (not including the time he spent in Azkaban, Pansy threw that bit in) to please her and her family (they enjoyed being connected to the Malfoy name) and after the 12 months came to an end, they would say they split mutually and on good terms.

Today was September 8th, their bargain ended on September 29th. He could almost taste freedom.

Draco had spent the entire year of 1999 in Azkaban for his affiliation with Voldemort. The Ministry was thankfully gracious as they realized he was only a boy. It wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. The dementors were awful. The dementors were horrifyingly awful. That was by far the worst part. He could deal with the cold and the cell and the dirtiness but when your last shred of hope and happiness feels like it's being drained out of your body by the very air you breathe, that he could not handle. He had no wand to defend himself, and much less an ability to cast a patronus. So when Draco was finally released he was determined to find something to make him happy again. He dragged himself through almost three months of probation that was pretty much just house arrest without a scrap of happiness to show for it. Given there was plenty to do at his house and if one were to be on house arrest one would probably want to be in a house the size of his; but Malfoy Manor was cold and morbid and brought back every terrifying memory he had spent the last year trying to forget.