That's how it all started. With a letter. And that's how it would all end.
The first letter had come two years before. I'd been lonely; he'd been there. For one night, one day, we'd been civil. We'd been all each other had, all each other needed, when no one else was there for us. Friends, for a day. Then it all returned to normal. The snide remarks, the insults; they flew from both of our mouths again. The hatred was in both of our eyes, but Merlin knows I never hated him again. Never again. The only thing I hated was the hatred between us.
So one night, I sent it. My books offered no distraction, and the need to tell him was overwhelming. But I could never tell him face to face. Not me, never me, the bookworm. Fierce as I was capable of being, my bravery was almost nonexistent when it came to him. Never had I been so unsure of myself. Some Gryffindor. So, instead, I did what I knew how to, told him in the one way I could; I wrote him a letter.
Malfoy,
I wanted to tell you this to your face, but as of right now, my Gryffindor bravery is not present. That night, when you found me in the library, I was lonely. You were, too, deny it though you may. I needed someone, I needed to feel the presence of a friend, while all of mine were away, leaving me forgotten with my need to feel needed. And you found me in my most vulnerable state; I was crying, which you know now that I hate. I was so prepared for you to scorn me. And yet you, you, the nasty Slytherin, were kind to me. I've never, never, felt that cared about, Draco. So we talked, and I felt myself wondering how I'd never noticed that your eyes were not cold, but lonely. I didn't want them to be lonely anymore. But that night ended. And then everything returned to the way it was before. I never got a chance to thank you. Right about now, I think, you are probably considering burning this letter. Feel free to do so, but hear me out first: I've never returned to hating you, Malfoy. Draco. Quite the opposite. So now, you know. You know that the Mudblood, Gryffindor bookworm misses you. I am sorry to burden you with this fact, and you may hide it in your closet of dirty secrets. Now I am going to sit in this lonely common room, thinking about another time I was lonely, and build up enough of that so said Gryffindor bravery to attach this letter to my owl.
Yours, I believe,
Hermione Granger
I sent it. For a week, I sat in the common room late into the night, waiting for him to respond. A letter never came. And not one day passed that I didn't miss that blond boy.
Two years later, he's rumored to have disappeared a deatheater, after watching Snape kill Dumbledore. I wondered if I should feel guilty for missing him still. I knew I should. But somewhere inside of me, I couldn't believe that the glacier eyed boy who'd held me as I cried was the hate filled man responsible for the greatest wizard of all time's death. No, I couldn't believe that. Perhaps that would be my downfall: hope. Or perhaps it would be what saved me. Either way, I hoped for some explanation. Me, the rational bookworm, yearned for an explanation that proved the unimaginable. I wanted Draco Malfoy to be innocent.
I sat, alone once again, by the fire in Grimmauld Place. I thought of the upcoming war. I thought of a blond, beautiful man. I just stared at the fire, lost in my thoughts. A tap on the window brought me to my feet, wand held in front of me. My bushy hair fell into my face, and I brushed it away furiously. I relaxed and chuckled at myself as I saw that it was only an owl at the window. Who could be owling us at this hour? I thought. I walked curiously towards the window to let it in. I didn't recognize the bird as it flew in and dropped a piece of parchment at my feet. As I grabbed the letter, it ruffled its pure black feathers and stared imploringly at me with wicked amber eyes. "Okay, okay," I told it, bustling to give it some of Headwig's food. As soon as it was content, I opened the letter, eager to see who's this amazing creature was. My heart stopped, and I had to ease myself onto the sofa. The handwriting....that handwriting. I recognized it. I'd seen it once before.
Hermione,
Two years. That's how long it's been. Two years ago, I received a letter. Two years ago, I realized what a mistake I would be making if I followed my father's footsteps. I always thought there was no way out of what I was becoming. But I found, two years ago, something worth finding a way, something I'd miss. I found it in a girl, a crying girl, whom I'd previously hated, and I vowed then to find a way out. Because two years ago, that girl pointed out that I was lonely, and I knew it was true. So I went to an old man. This old man handed me a solution. I became a double agent. I found myself not alone; my Godfather was one, too. Alongside with him, working for the old man, we infiltrated the enemies lines. We diminished the enemies numbers. The old man died; then we worked for people who thought us to be their enemies, people who had no clue about the work we did, people to whom we were turncoats. I hated that. I hated that there was a person whose opinion I valued who thought I was less then dirt beneath her shoes. But still, I did my job. The old man and my Godfather had given me a way to get out, and I would not pass it by. You know these two men, Hermione Granger. You know them as Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape.
The time has come for us to establish where our real loyalties lie. So I am telling you ahead. I fight for good now, Hermione. I fight for you. Snape and I have been working for Dumbledore. We were ordered by him to kill him. He said he was going to die within a day's time, and that we might as well use that to our advantage, to gain enemy trust. Both of us were loath to do it, but we did what we must. We are coming, now, to headquarters. You are to tell Moody and Kingsley that we are coming, and tell them what I've told you. Then you are to say that we were told to give them a password, one to prove our loyalty. A phrase, actually.
"When dark overshadows, in light we revel."
We will then be welcomed, albeit skeptically. I tell you this ahead of time so you can prepare them for us. But I also do so to apologize. Because, you see, two years ago, a young man received a letter. And this young man was too cowardly to reply to this letter. For two years he built up his courage. And he knows that there is beautiful girl, that has every right to hate him, that waited for that reply. For two years I have carried that letter in my pocket, and upon my return, will try my best to right everything. Forgive me, love, for being so late.
Unquestionably yours,
Draco Malfoy
There it was. In my hand. My unimaginable explanation. I knew I should be skeptical, but I knew what I read was the truth. I don't know how I knew, but I did. The man I loved --I now admitted it to myself-- was coming back. I grinned to myself, then dashed through one of the many halls.
"Kingsley! Moody!" I shouted up the stairs. I probably woke up the entire house. In fact, I know I did. But I was unable to contain my happiness.
Soon the Order was gathered in the dining room. Gasps met the amazing news Kingsley announced. I was tense, ready to pounce on any distrust, knowing full well that it would probably give away my secret.
"Snape was always on our side, wasn't he? I feel so bad for not trusting him!"Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, regret and happiness somehow both etched onto her face.
"I knew he wouldn't betray us," Arthur amended.
"We'll prepare them guest rooms, and-"
"Hold on, now! We're just going to welcome them into our headquarters? Snape, okay, maybe, but Malfoy? That filthy git? No way!" Ron argued. I felt my anger grow as I opened my mouth to reply.
"Yes, we damn well will!"
The room grew silent at my protest. All eyes turned to me. Ron's mouth fell open.
"What?" he asked dumbly.
"If Dumbledore trusted them, I do. As should you, Ronald! I never believed they'd betray us!"
"But it's Draco bloody Mal-"
"Draco bloody Malfoy was there for me when you were not, Ronald! Draco Malfoy was there for me when no one was! I will welcome him back with open arms! As will you, unless you wish to be hexed into oblivion!" I didn't mean to yell, but yell I did. Glaring daggers at Ron, I held my wand out threateningly. He stared at me in disbelief. "Any other complaints?" I spat at the room full of people staring at me. Silence and head shakes greeted my question. "Good." I put away my wand and stormed out of the room. I made my way to the room I shared with Ginny. With a heavy sigh I plopped down on the window seat and pulled my legs up in front of me, my happiness and anger warring with ear other. Why did Ron always have to put a damper on things? Did he enjoy infuriating me? I knew I was being unfair. He had every right to distrust Draco. Hate him, even. I stared at the street below, so dimly lit by a single street light. It cast an eerie circular glow.
"When?" A calm, soft voice asked from behind me. I sniffed, fighting back unnecessary tears. Keeping my eyes trained on the street lamp, I answered, my voice thick.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Tonks sighed, walking forward to sit next to me. "Yes you do, Hermione. When did you fall in love with Malfoy?"
I turned to face her, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. Her kind brown eyes met mine evenly. Her hair was green today. "Is it that obvious?"
"Hermione, you just threatened to hex one of your best friends into oblivion. That's not normal. Just call it a woman's intuition." She smiled in understanding. I offered a watery smile in return. With a sigh I turned back to the window.
"Fifth year."
She nodded. There was silence. Then, "Harry's not upset, not much. I think he's figured it out."
"Yes, well, for a daft man, Harry's rather smart." She laughed, and I chuckled. I leaned my head back against the window frame and looked at her.
"Tonks, it's been two years since we've spoken a civil word to one another. Do you think he still-"
"Yes, Hermione. He sent you the letter. He-"
"NYMPHADORA!" Moody projected his voice up the stairs, interrupting Tonks' next words. I winced at the loud sound, watching as Tonk's hair turned fiery red.
"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" She shouted at the top of her lungs. Then she turned back to me with an apologetic smile. "Gotta run, 'Mione. He still feels the same, though, don't you worry." She got up and jogged out the room.
"How do you know?" I called after her.
I heard a faint, "Woman's intuition!"
I laughed softly. Tonk's was indeed slightly insane. But she was like an older sister to me. My mind began to wonder back to Draco, and I sobered. I hoped Tonks was right.
"They're here!" Mrs. Weasley's shout could be heard all through the house. My heart began to race. I started to go downstairs, at a walk at first, but then I sped up to a run. Taking the stairs two at a time, I went as fast as I could without breaking my neck. I came to an abrupt halt as I came within a hair's breadth of colliding with a black coat, belonging to Severus Snape.
"Sorry, Professor," I apologized quickly, using the title out of habit. I expected a snarl--hell, part of me expected "Twenty points from Gryffindor!"--but instead he said,
"Mrs. Granger," with a nod of his head. A ghost of what could've been a smile, which looked odd on the gaunt man I used to call my professor, also greeted me. To say I was surprised was an understatement. He looked thin, too thin, and deep shadows circled his dark eyes. My eyes then drifted over his shoulder. For what felt like the millionth time that day, my heart stopped.
Staring at me with glacier blue eyes was the boy I'd written a letter so long ago. He'd grown taller, and was more dishevelled than I'd ever seen him, but it was the same boy I'd fallen in love with. He held a familiar, rumpled parchment tightly in his hand. Our eyes locked. By now everyone else had entered the room, but as far as I was concerned, it was just the two of us.
"Draco," the whisper escaped my mouth. He kept staring at me, seemingly unsure of how I'd react. I'm not sure anyone, including myself, expected my reaction. I threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He locked me into an iron grip, holding me close as I buried my head into his neck.
"'Mione," he murmured. I pulled back slightly, just to meet his eyes.
"I've been lonely," I stated quietly. He smirked slightly, his eyes tender. "Sorry I'm so late, love."
I laughed softly, feeling happier than I had in two years. "Better late than never, I suppose."
He kissed my forehead.
"Did I miss something?" Ron's bewildered voice was a harsh interruptment, bringing me back to reality. I looked at him over my shoulder, then rolled my eyes.
"Oh, Ronald," I sighed. Everyone laughed at his lost face.
You see, everything started the day I sent my letter. And everything that had started then ended now, when he sent his. Then a whole new beginning began.
Just a little thing off the top of my head. Wrote it in about an hour. I know, it's not really accurate or anything, but let's just roll with it, shall we? Hope you liked it! Lemme know what you think!
--Paris:]