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The Death Eaters sat listlessly in their cells. Azkaban was precisely a purgatory designed to weaken the souls of those who had strayed down the dark path (though they would continue down that path even if freed).
Occasionally, they would scream hysterically, demanding freedom or simply cursing, even if it attracted the attention of the Dementors. The screams gave the Death Eaters a sense of being alive, not like tattered dolls thrown into a corner.
They had no idea how much time had passed, how the world had changed, or when their beloved Lord would return to rescue them from this wretched place.
Then one day, a horned owl—somehow having bypassed Azkaban's strict security—delivered a letter to Whitlock, one of Voldemort's loyal retainers.
He was the first to spot the familiar owl and the letter tied to its leg. He quickly snatched the letter and signaled the owl to stay out of the Death Eaters' sight for a moment.
Mr. Whitlock Sr. hid in a corner and stealthily opened the letter. A quill pen and a small bottle of black ink were placed inside the envelope. He carefully unfolded the letter.
Dear dad,
I hope this letter reaches you, as I'm not sure if Hill (the owl's name) can get past Azkaban's impenetrable defenses. *sad face*
Currently, only I and two house elves live at the manor. My uncle has fled to Hungary, but he still sends me money occasionally! *happy face*
Hogwarts is still very interesting, it's just that I'm having a little trouble with Potions.
I just wanted to say that I miss you so much, Dad *three scribbled hearts*
P.S.: I hope you can reply to this letter, I miss you so much!!
Your only son,
Whitlock Jr.
December 25th, 1986.
In the cold cell of Azkaban, Whitlock Sr. felt a strange warmth in his heart. Though a Death Eater willing to kill mudbloods without hesitation, he was still a father. His wife had died of dragonpox, leaving his son with only one parent. And his younger brother, the child's godfather, at most provided for his nephew's insignificant necessities.
He huddled in a corner; the other Death Eaters either collapsed in shock or screamed, none noticing the figure diligently writing in the darkness.
_____
My dearest son,
I miss you very much too. I'm a little surprised that a letter from an owl could get here. Azkaban is so cold and incredibly hungry, so I cherish this letter very much. Because it helps me keep track of time outside, really.
I miss you very much too. I miss you so much.
Your father,
Whitlock Sr.
_____
Dear dad,
I'm so glad you replied!! Azkaban is really tough. I'm having trouble with my Hogwarts subjects, especially Potions.
The money uncle sent helped me buy two boxes of chocolate frogs *smiley face*
I wanted to share something with you.
Your son,
Whitlock Jr.
December 26th, 1986
_____
My dearest son,
You actually sent a chocolate frog.
I chuckled when I saw the blue pentagonal box on the owl's leg. Not because it was funny, but because it seemed like the least likely thing to be here.
Anyway, the chocolate was delicious. I nibbled on a little.
Your father,
Whitlock Sr.
______
Dear dad,
I'm so glad you liked that chocolate frog. I got a 15 points today because I was the first one to cast the 'Spongify' spell! It made the cactus as soft as a rubber mattress! *a smiley face drawing*
Oh, and my roommate got lots of candy from his parents. He gave me some, so I'm sending you some.
Missing you, dad.
Your son,
Whitlock Jr.
December 27th, 1986
______
My dearest child,
The tangerine-flavored sugar quill and the licorice wand are delicious. It's easy to hide their scent here when everyone smells of death.
Your roommate is so kind. And you're so smart, my dear! Your father used to be very good at Charm too.
I miss you too.
Your father,
Whitlock Sr.
_____
"What are you doing, Whitlock?" Rodolphus asked. He noticed the other man had suddenly become quiet after days of shouting.
Focusing on Whitlock, he saw the man hiding in a corner, engrossed in something. The older Lestrange leaned closer to see what Whitlock was doing.
Whitlock, knowing that hiding was useless, whispered to him.
"It's a letter."
"A LETTER—!?"
Rodolphus almost screamed, but Whitlock's hand immediately tightened around him.
"Don't tell anyone."
"Are you kidding me? It's a miracle an owl could get to this desolate place. Besides, I have no reason to keep this a secret—"
Whitlock shoved a blueberry-flavored sugar quill straight into Rodolphus's mouth.
"Silence."
"Yes, sir."
______
My dearest son,
I heard you mention last time that you're studying for your Transfiguration test. Good luck. I was pretty good at it back then too.
Also, if you like another boy, that's fine too. I'll still support you from Azkaban.
Your father,
Whitlock Sr.
To Whitlock Jr.
I am Rodolphus Lestrange, your father's colleague. I just wanted to ask if you could send me a box of frog-shaped chocolates? I'm starving.
______
Dear dad and uncle Lestrange,
I was really surprised to see the new handwriting, but it's okay.
Thank you, dad, for your support *a blushing face drawing*
Today, the boy I told you I liked took the initiative to find me and asked me to tutor him in Charms!!
I bought extra sweets for both of you!
Your son,
Whitlock Jr.
February 1st, 1986
_____
"Your son is a bottom!" Rodolphus whispered sarcastically to Whitlock while chewing on a chocolate frog. Then he yelped when the other man nudged him in the side.
"Don't talk nonsense, my son is definitely a top," Whitlock denied, but his tone showed he was trying to convince himself.
"What are you two doing?" A voice interrupted their whispered argument.
"Who's there—...little brother?" Rodolphus looked up and saw his younger brother squinting.
"Bloody Merlin, how did you guys get this letter in here? I have to tell Yaxle—"
A chocolate frog was shoved into Rasbatan's mouth.
Rasbatan Lestrange surrendered unconditionally.
______
My dearest son,
Congratulations on finally getting an O in Potions! Too bad I didn't get to see you practice Quidditch. *a sad face drawing*
Hill seems to be getting old and clumsy, burying his face in your soup. If you like that soup, your owl will too.
See you in the next letter.
Your father,
Whitlock Sr.
To Whitlock Jr.,
Uncle Rodolphus wants a packet of coffee today.
Dear Whitlock Jr.,
I'm Rabastan Lestrange, Rodolphus's younger brother. I think I'd like to eat some jelly slugs.
_____
Dear Dad,
Another handwritten note. Next time I'll send another sheet of paper so everyone has more space to write.
I want to ask what I should do when the boy I like asks me to go to the Astronomy Tower? I'm so fluttered.
I miss you so much.
Your son,
Whitlock Jr.
February 11th, 1986
_____
"Damn trippin', your son and that guy haven't even known each other for a year and he's already asking to go to the Astronomy Tower with him?" Rodolphus frowned as he read the letter, then poured coffee powder into his mouth.
"Either he's preparing to confess his feelings to your son, or he's trying to get your son to confess first," Rabastan said, carefully taking out a box of chocolate frogs and quickly popping one into his mouth before it could jump away.
"Why are you so interested in my son's love life?" Whitlock rolled his eyes and reread the letter.
"What if your son falls out of love and stops sending us things? I'm only worried about our benefits," Rabastan said.
Whitlock said nothing more, focusing on writing a reply to his son.
______
My dearest son,
I laughed when I read your letter.
Not because you're fluttered, but because I never thought I'd have to give you relationship advice from Azkaban.
My advice is simple.
Go.
If he takes the initiative to ask you out, it means he wants to spend time with you. That alone is reason enough not to refuse.
Listen to him. Answer honestly when he asks you something. If the silence between you two feels comfortable, don't rush to fill it.
I miss you very much too.
Your father,
Whitlock Sr.
From Rodolphus Lestrange:
Young people only come to the Astronomy Tower for one of two reasons, and neither of these reasons has anything to do with astronomy.
From Rabastan Lestrange:
If that brat kisses you before asking permission, tell him I'll find him THE MOMENT I LEAVE AZKABAN, MOTHERFUC-
______
Dear dad and uncle Lestrange,
I'm so glad you all supported and encouraged me. We talked about constellations, hobbies, future trips, and so on... Honestly, when I got back to the Slytherin common room that day, I was so excited I couldn't sleep *blushes*
Uncle Rabastan, you didn't have to be so aggressive...
He gave me a carton of milk this morning.
I miss you so much, Dad.
Your son,
Whitlock Jr.
February 12th, 1986
______
My dearest son,
It’s wonderful to hear that your love life is going well. He’s very interested in you. As a Whitlock, I hope you’re not the first to confess your feelings, and not too soon either.
Try harder in your Potions class, my dear, I hope that friend of yours will help you.
Your father,
Whitlock Jr.
From Rabastan Lestrange,
He asked you out at the observatory without a kiss? That guy is pathetic!
From Rodolphus Lestrange,
I want to eat a cauldron cake.
From Yaxley Corban,
I wonder if you could bring some tea in here?
From Travers,
Wine.
From Bellatrix Lestrange-Black
Is there any sign that our Lord is about to return?
From Antonin Dolohov,
Your friend isn't a Slytherin, is he? You were going back to the common room alone. It'd better not be one of those rude, stupid Gryffindors.
From Mulciber II,
Could you sneak some vodka in here?
______
Whitlock Jr. was puzzled to see so many more names appear in his father's reply. Frankly, he didn't know where to buy the liquor, though he certainly had enough money for tea.
After some thought, Whitlock Jr. decided to write to his uncle in Hungary asking for some wine, as well as some money to buy another owl; Hill was getting old and couldn't carry too much on the rough seas to Azkaban.
As the second-year Slytherin was writing, his dormmate called out to him.
"Your Gryffindor friend is waiting for you at the dungeon door again, Whitlock Jr.!"