Oliver: And you Dodger, you're my friend.

The Artful Dodger: Huh! A friend's just an enemy in disguise. You can't trust nobody

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"Parkinson,"

"I want you to know, although somehow I doubt you'll understand the significance of it--what an amazing friend you had.  It's over now, flat, empty, nothing.  You know that, of course you know that, we finished it all up and tied the lovely ribbons on it last night.  Two in the morning, wasn't it?  Yeah, I think so.  This is just a closing letter, an ending statement, if you will.  I think I owe you this--don't ask me why.  Or maybe I just owe it to myself. 

"I'll miss your smile, it lit up the whole Great Hall, and I'll miss your snobby comments during breakfast.  (("Draco! Put that bacon down it's absolutely horrifying!"))  I'll never forget that, for the rest of my years.

"I'll miss your voice, a perky-jovial type laden with sarcasm that was all too difficult to catch on to.  I'll miss kissing you in front of your Father--so you Father grabs his wand and chases after me and we have to hide in the broom closet.  For more kissing, of course.  I'll miss sharing acid pops with you outside 'o' Hogwarts on the Pitch.  Early mornings...late nights...same things.  I'll miss you wearing my tie 'round your neck as though it was yours--but it wasn't.  Oh, and I'll miss laughing my lungs out talking to you, because those were good times, Parkinson, good times.  Maybe even best.

"I'll miss the way that whenever I brought up Blaise your cheeks turned dark red, and whenever I brought up "that thing reserved for marriage and marriage only" (you know just what it is) you absolutely giggled to death.  I'll miss the way you tried in Herbology and never did well, because that was just funny, really.  The way you butter your toast, the way you pour your milk, the way you refuse to sit on the floor because it's "dirty." 

"You're a very silly person, Parkinson and you don't come with a rulebook, sadly enough.  Everything about you is special, all of your odd habits, the way you scrunch your nose up when you're reading.  The way you sip your gin.  I remember, not so long ago, when you came to visit the Manor and we snuck out the window--far past nine--and walked about the grounds while it was dark.  The stars were odd looking like that glitter nailpolish you always wore. 

"I remember the Yule Ball, gods we were silly back then weren't we?  We were smart, granted but we were so bloody ridiculous.  You cried so I had to ask you.  That was a dirty trick to play on someone, Parkinson.  But you're one of the best manipulator's of all time--and I think you know you can get whatever you want.  Perhaps even better than me, Parkinson.

"Your eyes.  That's an interesting topic.  I like to think that before I fell in love with you I fell in love with your eyes--the color of candy apples 'round Halloween Time.  Not like I ever believed in all that 'spirit' and 'ghost' rot.  Remember the first time you saw the Bloody Barron?  That was an experience, for sure.  You started screaming and screaming, it was really pathetic but it was sort of sweet anyway.  I don't think you've ever been too fond of the Bloody Barron.  It was just a ghost Parkinson...it was nothing.

"So, here I am at my desk and I'm writing you this letter and it's almost sad.  Because, well, I've known you all of my life.  But now--it just isn't working.  We yell at each other whenever we see each other and sure it's part of the charm--but we just don't see eye-to-eye anymore, Parkinson.  You're convinced I ought to not get the Dark Mark, and I'm convinced I ought to.  Sorry, love.  This is sort of the way it has to go.  I always thought you'd be my wife someday--and not because I love you.

"The age old question--love, what is it?  The truth is, I think it's this inkling of hope right before you die.  This inkling of hope that says: "keep going...keep going..." even when you know you're going to die.  It's not very happy, Parkinson.  Sorry to wreck your fairytale.  But you won't get it with Blaise, either.  Did I tell you...Blaise already got the Dark Mark.  Well, don't tell him I told you.  It was a Secret Parkinson, and I told a Secret.  You would've been a lovely addition to Malfoy Manor, let me tell you that.  You would've fit right in and as far as I'm concerned you are family.

"But not my favourite sort.

"I guess, you really are sort of like family.  My first recollection of you was when I was seven and you were six you threw a glass pitcher at me because I had called you ugly.  I'm not sure it makes it up to you Parkinson--but you aren't ugly.  At least not real ugly.  Please don't throw another pitcher at me!  Aunt Bella always said that you and I would grow old together, I don't know if I believe in that, Parkinson.  It's sort of silly, really.

"I get the feeling you never had fake illusions, Parkinson.  I mean I don't think you ever thought I was madly in love with you, or that we'd be together till the day we died.  I really don't think so.   Don't correct me if I'm wrong.  You're a smart girl, Parkinson, and I think you sort of understood the concept that: 'forever doesn't last.'  At least not here.

"You always wanted me to be good Parkinson, and I don't know if you wanted that for you-or me-or the world.  You just wanted it.  You're not that good yourself, Parkinson. Don't kid yourself.  No clue why you thought you could change me, it's a ridiculous idea. 

"I'm going to be a death eater, Parkinson, but I'll always love you.

"The truth is: I'm going to miss you.  I hope you can keep a secret about that one, because it isn't one of my finer moments.  I don't need you, Parkinson.  I hope you know that, I think you do.  So go off and marry Blaise--have children.  Although I still swear if we had a daughter she would've been the prettiest little girl.  After you.

"We would've named her Evelyn.

"Anyway, as it's going, I hope you're doing better than you were last night.  You were crying so much I think you might've coughed your lungs out.  You are doing better, aren't you, love?  I guess you want me to sum it all up--and the sum is that--we have different directions and our 'gods' want us to go different ways and seek other people and "do the right thing" (so to speak.)  This is the right thing for me, Parkinson.

"And I think it's the right thing for you too.

"I will become a Death Eater.  June of this year, actually.  I'll be seventeen, you'll be sixteen, you're still a baby Parkinson. Am I nervous?  You always asked me...I never answered.  No, no, I'm not nervous.  That's odd, isn't it?  I guess I feel that's it's right and I hold no doubts.  This is what I'm supposed to do--this is what I'm going to do.  I think I knew for a very long time that you would oppose this and now you're being more vocal than I would've liked about the matter.  But that's fine.  But just remember--your Father is a Death Eater so you ought to watch your mouth about the whole ordeal.

"I'll miss our long talks, the most I think.  Not because they were terribly good but because they were loud and rambling and usually debates.  Everything about you is classy, Parkinson.  You're a classy young lady, never forget that.  And watch out with Blaise--not the best bloke--but he's good, he'll be good to you.  But you keep an on yourself, okay?  Because I'll be keeping an eye on you too.

"Maybe because I love you.  Maybe because we go way back.  Maybe because it's just the way things go.

"Do you still have the ruby bracelet?  I said it matched your eyes, it still does.  Wear it, sometimes, will you?  It'll make me smile and it'll make you remember.  Us.  You're not a  nice person, Parkinson, but you're a good person--and they aren't the same thing, either.

"More to the point, Parkinson, I need to finish this up.  Charms homework, I used to always copy yours, guess that won't be happening anymore, eh?  One of the finer points of our relationship, if you ask me.  I don't want to end this, but I s'pose I'll have to.  Remember me, Parkinson, I'll always remember you.

"And remember, as much as this--us--is over--you'll always be in my heart, Parkinson.  And I know you never thought I had one, either.  It's so much easier to just believe people are evil, isn't it?  Don't tell your Father about our little "break up" so to speak, because I think he'll hex me next time he sees me.  Messing with his "little girl " and all.

So farewell and abschied (don't try to hide it, love, we all know you're as German as they come.)

Do be careful, love.

Do watch your back.

Night, Parkinson.  Sleep well.

No regrets, love.

-=Draco Dawkins Malfoy=-

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