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Dearest Hermione,
I hate travelling. I know we’ve already talked about this being my last season but I think that makes it worse somehow–knowing it’s all coming to an end soon. The Falcons are nearing the end of this away game stretch and I’ve never been happier to come home.
I miss our home with all your books everywhere. And half-decent pots of tea. And your hair all over the shower. And our bed. Merlin, do I miss our bed! You’d think with magic we could have comfortable beds at all these inns and hotels we stay in but no, it’s like sleeping on the floors at Hogwarts.
I miss you, too. Don’t worry. I miss you most of all. I miss the way you come in after a long shift and just start shedding all your belongings in the entryway before slumping onto the couch. I miss the way you sigh when I offer to rub your feet…and then complain when I stop to get you food. Are you eating three meals a day, by the way? When I’m not there to remind you that your brilliance needs sustenance you tend to forget, my love.
How’s St. Mungo’s? Any interesting stories you can tell me without breaking your precious healer-patient confidentiality? Please tell me someone misused engorgio again…I love those stories.
And off I go to another riveting day of training. Just a few more games now and we’ll get to be together all the time. Prepare to be sick of me.
Love,
Your adoring husband, Draco
Dear Draco,
You’re sounding a bit dramatic, don’t you think? But I am talking to Draco Malfoy, the boy who was dying of a little Hippogriff nibble.
We did this for years now, we will somehow make it through the next few weeks as well. Just think of the time they changed your schedule last minute and I portkeyed to France myself. Narcissa really showed me what a wellness vacation could be, so it all worked out. But I did miss you terribly. As you missed me when I couldn’t attend your honouring as Quidditch Player of the Year the night St. Mungo’s got flooded with the Hogwarts class that had a potions accident.
It’s 2AM now and I promise you the cots they provide for the overnight shifts at St. Mungo’s are much more uncomfortable than what your inns have to offer. Of course, I already applied all the cushioning charms there are. It’s just no use. At least you have decent pillows and bedding, they wouldn’t let their star players go without those, I’m sure.
I could send you some of Crooks’ hair to spread around. That should make you feel more at home. He misses you, by the way. I dare to say more than I do. Apparently, I just don’t open the cans of his food quite the right way. He shuns it until I go to sleep. That’s his sign that you won’t be coming home and he goes and eats.
Speaking of which, are you insinuating I’m a slob? I do clean up my things after I take a nap. It’s much nicer to wake up to the smell of your cooking, though. Now I just wake up and clean before making myself something. Or ordering take away.
I miss you so much.
I do eat, but you have your own opinion on the hospital food so I’ll let you be the judge of whether that really sustains my brilliance.
I don’t have an engorgio story, but Ronald managed to get himself hexed with a foreign jinx. I won’t say what it did, because you could never keep that a secret. But Lavender still doesn’t let him enter their bedroom.
There. That should get you through another day of training; considering all the things the jinx could have done to him.
I’ve got to go back to work. Someone just left their bed.
I love you and will see you at the game.
Yours,
Hermione
Light of My Life,
You want dramatic…you’ll get dramatic! And can we stop bringing up the Hippogriff, already? It’s been over a decade!
Oh Weasley, he never fails to entertain. I have compiled a list (with the aid of my fellow star players) of what this jinx could’ve done to him. I expect you to tell me if I was right!
- Made his dick unfathomably small and his wife has been traumatised at the sight.
- Removed what little filter he had and he referred to her in an unflattering way.
- Had an issue like those little blue Muggle pills your dad teases your uncle about needing…you know, if it lasts longer than four hours, see a medical professional.
- Did it turn colours?!
Okay, I think I have talked about Weasley’s genitals enough for one letter. But that is the first thing that came to mind when talking about his condition. Well, when you mentioned bedrooms that was not the first thing that came to mind. But I was set a task to uncover a mystery and I refocused.
There are other things that would keep me going through a lonely night and a long day of training. Things much more pleasant than discussions of your friends and their various medical ailments. No matter how amusing those may be.
Training was absolute shite today. We’re all exhausted from being on the road so we’re making sloppy mistakes. There were two near collisions today. It makes me nervous for any other games we play. If we can’t keep ourselves from crashing into our teammates, we certainly can’t keep ourselves on our brooms against the opposition.
Maybe I should use some of this Malfoy money to make your shifts more pleasant. You want a custom-made bed in your private overnight room? I can set up a meal delivery service to bring you those croissants you like every day? And maybe some lunch and dinner, too. I don’t know what the hospital does to consumable items to create that sludge they call food, but it should be considered a war crime.
And the trick with Crooks is that I put fresh tuna or salmon in with his canned food. That’s why he loves me more. I buy his love. I’m not above that option.
I can’t wait to come home and see the chaos of your “cleaning.” You do not clean. You shove things into closets and wait until I open them. That is called hiding your mess, love.
Love you most,
Draco
Dear Draco - the apple of my eye,
I’m assuming you’re training right now. I finally got to sleep, which gives me enough energy to respond to your ridiculous nicknames. It’s amazing what sleeping in after a 48 hour shift can do.
Of course, Crooks hates me even more now since the charms certainly didn’t add anything to his can and, well, one of the cans missed his bowl. It was a mess and he wouldn’t eat any of it. When did my cat become as high maintenance as my husband? Next thing I know he will demand a three-course meal.
George wants me to let you know that he has a list as well and would like to compare notes on what Lavender won’t let into her bed. I certainly won’t be telling either of you. You might want to try Harry, though. He was there when the thing happened and brought Ron in.
All joking aside, why is your coach letting the team fly in this state? You keep telling me to eat, well, I would appreciate it if my husband would make sure he is in a state to fly when he does. I would like to get you back in one piece. Just yesterday, they brought in this teenager from Hogwarts. I don’t know how this sport is even legal. Muggles don’t let their underaged children do violent sports like Quidditch.
Just be safe, will you?
Maybe you can use that Malfoy money to expand the building instead? Or possibly to increase pay for the healers? Jones quit last week; some prestigious wizarding hospital in France made him an offer. Your mother probably knows the place. And Bones is talking babies, I don’t think she will be around much longer.
I’m really just mentioning Jones quitting, because they need me to cover his shift on the 25th. It’s a long one and even if Blaise and Theo can get me one of those semi-illegal portkeys of theirs, I don’t think I will be able to make your game. I mean it would be up to you to just not catch the Snitch until I get there. But that would be exhausting, so please don’t do that. Just come home to me.
I just found the croissants you sent. They are delicious and just what I need now. Please don’t be too upset that I can’t come. I’ll make it up to you when you get here.
You get to rub my feet.
I love you,
Hermione
Hermione,
Don’t be mad. Remember that. Okay? DON’T BE MAD!!
I fell off my broom in tonight’s game. I’m really hoping you get this letter before anyone else tells you or you see an article in The Prophet about it.
I’m fine. Clearly, I’m writing you this wonderful letter so I am completely fine.
There is minor concern about a head injury. Minor! Really just a precaution. No broken bones that couldn’t be mended with a quick spell. No lasting damage. I was passed out for barely a minute. The team healer is confident that I passed out simply because I fell so quickly and that does things to one’s oxygen intake. I just bonked my head very lightly on the broom handle.
Are you mad? I have a feeling I’ll be receiving a howler of some kind…or at least an irate letter. Maybe something with a lot of reasons why head injuries are always serious. You do love to lecture me.
In other news, we won! My last game was at least a victory, and my falling off the broom and catching the Snitch while almost unconscious will be discussed for centuries. It’s the catch of the year! I have a legacy of more than just being rich and handsome and married to the Brightest Witch of Her Age. (Yes, I am still kissing-up in hopes you won’t be mad at me).
I’ll rub your feet for the rest of our lives, my love. And now I can because the travelling and the press and the training days…it’s all over. We did it. We survived all the hardship and now we get to the fun part of building a life together. By actually being together.
I love you. And no, that’s not the healing magic talking. I don’t say it enough, especially when we write to each other. Blame it on Blaise and Theo for teasing me relentlessly when I’d write to my parents. They scarred me for life.
They’re both staying with me by the way. I can’t travel while I’m being monitored so I’m stuck here for a few more days. Don’t take any time off, they need you at the hospital.
See you soon. And it’ll be forever this time.
Love,
Your injured but handsome husband, Draco
Dear Narcissa,
I wanted to let you know that your son bonked his head against the broom at his last game. He informed me not to worry as he just briefly passed out . Your son was actually proud of this since apparently it gets one to be talked about for centuries. I refrained from sending him a howler, but surely his mothers voice will knock more sense into him than I ever could.
I’m with him now, overseeing his care. My first act was to remove Nott and Zabini from his room to ensure adequate healing could take place. I found a bottle of firewhiskey plainly on the table from the catching-the-snitch celebration. Their howlers are en route as we speak. I don’t think they have left the inn, so I might get to hear some of it.
I’m going to be filing a complaint with the Department of Magical Games and Sports next. There have been so many accidents lately! The regulations are there to keep the players safe–I looked that up. But the coaches need to enforce them as well.
Draco is okay, though. The healers took good care of him, and knowing he won’t play a competitive game again is a reassurance. I don’t think I can handle this kind of news again while pregnant.
We are going to be here for a few more days, since the not-so-bad injuries he sustained need more time for healing. After that, he is on bedrest for a little longer but I’m hoping to get him cleared for international travel. I was going to bring him for a visit in France anyway, and now it has the added bonus of his friends being far away from him.
I don’t know what I’m going to do with your son being constantly around me now that his career is over. Maybe you can get him to choose a less dangerous pastime while we visit. One that keeps his mind occupied and his body out of trouble.
I’ll floo call with our travel arrangements and am looking forward to seeing you again. You can check on Draco then, too.
Love,
Hermione
Mum,
Ignore my wife. She’s a paranoid witch. All that time spent with Potter and in Mungos has made her believe the worst about even a stubbed toe.
It’s really not that terrible.
I’m thrilled to come see you, though. Maybe you can save me from her and her irrational anger? She has me under some kind of Muggle concussion protocol where she keeps waking me up every hour or something.
Time is an illusion at this point.
Did you see my catch? It was amazing, wasn’t it?
Love,
Your Son, Draco
Son,
I will most certainly not ignore your wife. She is the one ensuring your safety while I'm out of the country.
We shall talk once you arrive.
Give Hermione a hug for me.
-Mum