Draco's eyes flew open, and a shudder travelled through his body. The memory had brought back pain which he had long since stored away in the back of his mind. He had nearly forgotten about Hermione's presence, but as he looked down at the mark which had destroyed his life up till this point and would continue to do so, he saw her small hand still being clutched in his.
"He's been watching me through it all this time," he said, trying to compose himself. It almost came easily to him now - it was like a second nature for Draco to conceal his true feelings and wear a cold, emotionless mask every minute of every day.
"What do you mean?" asked Hermione, her voice etched with pity.
"He can sense my actions and my whereabouts through the dark mark," Draco answered, spitting the last two words out bitterly. "It's how he is able to know when we're together."
Understanding dawned on Hermione. She pulled her hand out of Draco's, and stood up. "I guess I should leave now," she said, looking away.
"No...I mean...I have something for you."
She turned to look at him in surprise. "What is it?"
Draco began to raise a hand to his breast pocket, but then stopped. It seemed as if he were fighting an internal battle over whether or not he should give it to her. At last, he let out a sigh of defeat, and pulled a neatly folded letter out. He held it for a few seconds, looking down at it sadly. Then, he gave it to Hermione.
"Is this..." she began to say softly.
"Yes it is," he interrupted. "I have to go now." Draco stood up and began to walk to the door. When he passed Hermione, he stopped. Tentatively, he reached out a hand and tilted her chin up with it. Looking down at her innocent, tear-streaked face, he thought angrily, It's because of me. It's my fault that tears dare to marr her beauty right now. "I'm sorry," he said softly, before he turned away.
Then, he was gone.
When the echoes of Draco's footsteps on the stone floor outside of the room had died away, Hermione wiped away the tears on her cheeks and held up the letter he had given her. It was folded into quarters, and on the front side, her name was written in silver cursive.
She decided to go up to her room, where she could have more privacy, to read the letter. As she stepped out of the classroom, she nearly bumped into a lanky, dark-haired student passing by.
"Hey Harry," she said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm going to the common room," he replied pointedly. "Potions over, and you missed it...again."
Hermione frowned at the less-than-friendly tone in his voice. "I'm sorry..." she began to say.
"Hermione," intervened a second voice. Ron stepped out from behind of Harry. He also wore a frown, and didn't look very pleased with her. "You haven't been to Potions for three days in a row. I know Snape is a prat and everything, but what's with you and skipping classes lately?"
"I'm not skipping classes," she answered, beginning to get upset. Why were her friends turning against her? "Look, I'm sorry I haven't spent a lot of time with you two these past few days. I've just been really busy..."
"Busy with Malfoy?" Harry said sharply. "Since when have you cared about him more than us?"
"I don't!" Hermione half-cried. She looked desperately to Ron for help, but got nothing in response.
"We never see you anymore," continued Harry. "Being head girl is a pretty crummy excuse to stop talking to your friends, in my opinion."
Hermione was beginning to grow annoyed. "Stop being so immature," she snapped. "I've had to deal with more than you can imagine."
Harry gave her a look of pure disbelief, and said, "More than I can imagine? I don't think you had to face Voldemort yesterday. I don't think you had to deal with the death of your parents and your godfather the day before. What the hell is wrong with you, Hermione?"
Hermione's mouth dropped open. Harry's words had hit her like a slap in the face, and she was more than sorry that she had spoken now. "I...I didn't mean that," she said, tears springing to her eyes once again.
"Forget it," he answered coldly, his green eyes glaring at her. "Have fun with Malfoy."
As Harry turned away, Hermione's gaze met Ron's. "Ron..." she started to say, making to grab his arm.
"Bye Hermione," he said, ignoring her attempt to reason with him and following Harry instead. In the blink of an eye, the two of them had disappeared into the crowd of students.
Biting her lip until the coppery taste of blood filled her mouth, Hermione leaned against the wall behind her. Why can't I do anything right? she thought as she buried her face in her hands. First I can't have Draco, now my two best friends hate me.
"Are you okay?" came a voice to Hermione's right. She opened her eyes, and saw Lavender Brown standing there and looking at her with concern.
"I'm fine," Hermione mumbled, although her sniffling proved otherwise. "Thanks. I, uh, have to go now."
Without saying good-bye, she hurried away, leaving Lavender to stare after her with a rather offended expression on her face. As Hermione squeezed her way between groups of chattering students, her grip tightened on the letter. Right now, the only thing she really wanted to do was get away from everyone else and read what Draco had written to her.
When she finally entered the dormitory, she immediately walked over to her room and sat down on her bed. Carelessly brushing her hair away from her face, Hermione placed the letter on her desk and smoothed it out. She smiled when she saw her name. For some reason, just knowing that Draco had written it with his own hands brought an unexplainable happiness to her.
Taking one last deep breath, Hermione unfolded the letter and began to read.
Dear Hermione,
I have wanted to write this letter to you for so long, but I never have because I was afraid to. Afraid that if you ever saw it, you'd be repulsed. But now I'm writing this on the first day of school because this is our final year at Hogwarts, and I'm afraid that after it I may never get the chance to let you know how I feel.
I think it started at the beginning of 6th year. After the previous year's happenings, I wondered about your condition all summer. When I saw you again on the first day of school, you were still the same Hermione that I had known for so long. Yet something was different. I didn't feel the same contempt and dislike whenever my eyes fell upon your lovely face. The feeling...it was beyond words. I wanted to run to you, to kiss you, to hold you, and erase that hint of sadness in your beautiful brown eyes. But I held back, just like I have up until now.
Today I saw you in the library. I watched you from the shadows, while you glowed in the sunlight - I guess that's the way things will always be between us. The world which I'm bound to can only be described by words like 'darkness' and 'misery'. I find no pleasure in the activities in which I engage, but my father forces me into them nonetheless. My attempts to please him were abandoned long ago; now, I only hate him with a hate you would never experience. I know this, because not even evil would dare to corrupt your sweet innocence.
I understand that innocence is not all you are - you're friends with Harry Potter, the boy who has been through it all. I'm aware that you've gone through nearly everything he's gone through since you became friends with him in first year. But I hold that untainted image of you in place of perfection through my darkest moments, and it will most likely remain that way forever.
Although I would never admit this to anyone, sometimes I envy Potter. He experiences near-death, and he has you beside him to comfort him. Me...well, I have nothing. Not even my heart, because you, Hermione, unknowingly hold that.
I am now writing this in my hospital ward at St Mungo's. We...kissed a few nights ago. When I think back on it, I smile and realize that's the closest I'll ever get to heaven. If anything should happen to me, I would die happily just knowing my lips touched yours.
As I write this, I wonder when the eyes appear in my dreams will read this. I don't want to give this to you, not yet. Not until the time is right. But will the time ever be right? Will I ever be ready to let go of my now-familiar job of wanting you from afar? Because as much as I yearn to take you in my arms whenever I see you, I know I'm already blessed enough to just hold your gaze with mine. Yet somehow, even the sight of you can't overcome this longing and heartache that plagues me just knowing that you don't belong to me.
Oh, you just walked in. I will pause here in my writing for now.
I once again return to this letter, this time with the burden of contradicting emotions and thoughts weighing heavily on me. My heart is light with happiness, yet breaking at the same time. Telling you what I just said - hopefully you will remember as you read this letter - was, and will be, the hardest thing I have ever done. I hope you understand now that I did it to save you. Save you from myself. Hermione, please forgive me for hurting you. This letter is my apology.
I love you.
Forever yours, Draco
Putting down the letter, Hermione collapsed numbly onto her bed. She closed her eyes, allowing her mind to explode with questions. He loves me. He...loves me. How can this be possible? He's never shown it...he...it can't...
And then, she reached into her heart. Shutting out all attempts to reason with the situation, she let herself focus in on the one thing that mattered - her feelings. The kind portrait's words came back to her in a rush, and as Hermione silently begged her heart to show her the way, bits and pieces of memories came back to her...images of him...strutting up to the sorting hat knowing he would be placed in Slytherin for sure...leaning against a tree, surrounded by the darkness of the forest while the chaos the death eaters had created erupted around him...wand raised and eyebrows knitted in concentration as he attempted to trace a shining ring in the air above him. Each time, she saw the sharp jawline, white-blonde hair, and finally, the pale grey, almost silver, eyes which held such unfulfillable longing, hidden behind the steely shield of distrust.
"I love him," she said out loud in a choked whisper. "I love the one I can't have."
[A/N: Ahh I know it's cheesy and cliche, but hey, give me a break...there aren't a lot of choices when it comes to D/Hr fics anyway :P Sorry if I disappointed anyone with that. Don't stop reading yet though, things will get better. Also, I got the idea for that "watched you from the shadows while you glowed in the sunlight" thing from Cyrano de Bergerac...good play and movie :)]