10- letters

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Draco and Hermione wrote to each other quite frequently. At first in his letters he sounded happy, he wrote about how he and his parents were doing or about their vacation. But as the days passed, his writings changed.

He wrote differently, like he was a prisoner. His writings were cautious and rigid like someone was controlling what he wrote. His letters always had patterns. He would say how much he missed her, then reassured her that he was doing well, and a question or two about her summer.

His letters were different, to her it felt very off.

Even though he didn't physically write it she could sense him being sad and confused, she wanted to be there with him.

Little humor was in incorporated in the letters unlike what he did past summers. His words were more proper, like he was writing to a business partner than a lover. She worried about him but his replies were always the same.

"I am doing fine love don't worry, I'll see you soon-DM"

This to her wasn't truly convincing but she hoped that she was just worrying about nothing. In days she convinced herself he was okay, she was going to see him in a week anyway.

But the next day, her life changed. She found out that the dark lord was back, Hermione didn't think he was dead anyway. How could a baby kill someone powerful as Voldemort?

Sure she did not support the dark lord or his causes, but  she knew that Voldemort was in fact brilliant. He was powerful, cunning, and to her dismay she was related to him. 

But what tore her down was that her father was expected to join as a death eater.

Death eaters, those imbeciles who kill for fun and only care about blood purity. They were lunatics, absolutely mad and her father was being forced to join them.

He wasn't like that, sure he may at times be a little blood prejudice but he never mistreated any. Hermione had never heard him mutter 'blood traitor' or 'mudblood'. He was always kind to the elves too, he wasn't one of them. He had morals unlike the other death eaters.

She cried and begged for her father not to join, implying that maybe there was another way to keep her family safe. But all he would do was to sadly shake his head.

"Hermione this is the only way I can make sure our family stays safe. The dark lord will kill us if I don't join him. But promise darling, do not ever join them, I forbid you to ever become a death eater. Just try to keep your mother and brother safe" he would say.

All Hermione could do was whimper and nod, while giving him a tight hug.

Her father's plan worked, well partially. He reluctantly accepted his position as a death eater, but Voldemort himself requested Hermione and her brother  Charlie to join also.

With a lot of talking between the older Gaunts and the dark lord, they were able to come up with a compromise. One that Hermione's mother suggested.

Hermione's parents would both become death eaters, but their children would be left alone for now.

Hermione's father reasoned how he 'Did not wish for their innocence to be taken away so early' and promised that they would join the cause on their 18th birthdays. Her father had always been a persuasive one.

September 1st. It was today, when she and Charlie would leave for Hogwarts. She was beginning to dread being away from her parents. Mr and Mrs.Gaunt , a usually happy couple looked almost ill momentarily.

The day they had gotten their marks, they came home in excruciating pain. Their mark would burn at random times and their head would sometimes hurt so bad that they wouldn't be able to move. And to Hermione there was nothing to do help, she would always feel so helpless and she hated it.

It was 10:50, she looked at the glossed black train but the excitement she had every year was not there. She felt empty.

She turned to her parents who had bags under their eyes, they looked almost ghostlike. They gave her a tight smile and a slight nod as if to say 'go on we'll be fine'.

Affections had stopped, it was like they became transformed into someone else. They were expressionless, emotionless, it was like they weren't even there.

"Goodbye then, please take care" Hermione said, pleading for an answer.
"Goodbye darlings, study hard" it was the same voice her father had used the past week. It sounded hollow, lost, and nothing like him.

Hermione's brother nodded worryingly and walked towards the train. They separated and sat in their own compartment, awaiting for her friends.

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