Title: Love Letters
Rating: R
Pairing: (One-sided) Unknown/Harry
Summary: Harry has been getting letters from his friends.
Genre: Angst, Horror
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, he'd be Draco's wispy little plaything.
Warning: …Yes, well, this one kind of creeps me out. A lot. o.O
Challenge word:
billet-doux bil-ay-DOO, noun;
plural billets-doux bil-ay-DOO(Z):
A love letter or note.
The first one was found pinned neatly to the front of Ginny Weasley's robes: a lovely billet-doux on cream-colored vellum with the words Harry, I want you written in careful calligraphy.
It was all very tasteful and touching, if you ignored the corpse—which was kind of hard to do, admittedly, as her throat was rather spectacularly slashed, red blood having leaked out from between the folds of pale, cut flesh, drying in her spill of wild red hair.
But how wonderful, to be given the dignity of a beautiful death!—not that Harry Potter could appreciate it; after he saw her, he retched for hours and hours. He didn't understand.
Harry, I need you
The next one was scratched directly into Cho Chang's arm. She looked ethereal and exquisite as she floated in the bath, her tiny naked body a delicate, wet white, with her hair a dark halo drifting out dreamily between lazy soft bubbles. Her eyes were wide open, staring out into nothing. A lot of care had been taken to make everything just right.
Harry hadn't understood that, either.
"Stay away, I just want you and Ron to stay away, alright? Alright? Please, Hermione. Please. If I lost you two I don't know what I'd do—I—I couldn't live with that, do you understand? Please, please, just stay away, okay? I couldn't bear it if—"
Harry, I'd do anything for you
Hermione was hung from a great giant oak tree just outside her local library. Her neck was broken, but her hair was meticulously smooth and she looked just lovely in a brilliant white-and-yellow summer-dress that breezed playfully around her knees.
Her body swayed gently back-and-forth over the sidewalk before someone cut her down. The message was tattooed right down her shin.
At breakfast three weeks later Harry saw a letter sitting quietly in Hedwig's cage.
Hedwig had been dead for over two months. The letter had not been there yesterday.
Harry walked over and opened it; vellum, calligraphy. He already knew it would be.
He read what it said with huge, tired eyes.
Harry, I love you. Do you love me, too? Please turn around and tell me if you do.
Harry turned around.