The Letter Friend

by My Dear Reader

Hermione and Draco seem like complete opposites. Or are they? They travel on a journey to find each other while learning more about themselves along the way.

Hi,

This is the first story that I have ever finished in my life. I hope you enjoy it. I would really appreciate feedback, whether good or bad.

Thanks.

P.S. Sorry that it is all it one big thing. I have never used FanFiction before and so I am still a little confused with all the formatting.

Chapter 1 -

Hermione sighed as she listened to the absurd giggling coming out from the corner of the common room. She was sitting at her usual table, working on her Ancient Runes homework. Or should she say she was trying to work on it? Harry and his new found girlfriend Ginny were distracting beyond belief. They were crazy about each other. Hermione was fine with that, she was happy for them. She just didn't think that they needed to spend every waking moment in one another's company, giggling and talking so loudly that it interrupted other persons who were working on complex Rune translations!

Harry, Ron and Hermione where best friends. They had been for most of their lives at Hogwarts, they could tell each other anything and everything. Hermione always had someone to turn to. Well she used to. With Harry and Ron both now having girlfriends she often didn't spend very much time in their company outside of class. They both had better things to do and Hermione felt a loneliness that she had not had to bear for sometime now. She was sick of being pushed a side when either Ginny or Lavender came around the corner. She, Hermione Granger, was not a last resort. She wasn't someone you came to when you couldn't find anyone 'better' to hang out with. She was her own person and did not appreciate just being relied upon to be there to help Harry and Ron with their homework. Sure she didn't mind helping them, but she wanted to be there as a friend and confidante more than anything else.

What she really needed was someone to talk to. Someone she could confide in without fear of being shunned. Harry and Ron were becoming more and more distant and Hermione didn't want to end up alone.

The giggling from the corner was soon joined by more laughing coming from an arm chair by the fire. She glanced over to see a besotted Lavender Brown sitting on Ron's lap, running her fingers through his vivid ginger hair. Ron had a soppy smile on his face that made look somewhat like a Bassett Hound. Hermione smiled, though in a slightly disgusted sort of way. It was like looking at her brother with his girlfriend. Feeling that she was not going to get anything done in here, with so many lovebirds around, she shoved the books and parchments into her bag and slung it over her shoulder. She briskly walked out, trying not to look at nauseating sights bestowed either side of her.

Once she was out of the portrait hole she could breathe freely again. The castle was cold this time of year but Hermione didn't mind. She liked to wander around and look at all the paintings and statues. Hogwarts sometimes reminded her of a museum. So many artifacts old and new. Many nooks and crannies holding yet more secrets. Hermione liked art. She admired it. As she was walking a painting of a girl at the piano caught her eye. It was simple yet detailed and it moved, not just because all wizard paintings did, but because of the life the artist had given it. The skill and talent it took to put your pen to paper, brush to canvas or chisel to block was immense. It never failed to amaze her, how clever people could be and how much time, effort and love had been put into creating something, no matter how small. Hermione was clever herself. She was an avid reader, she liked to write and learn. She was top of the year in most subjects and she was passionate about things she believed in. But she was not perfect, as no one is. She wasn't good at sports, especially Quidditch and as much as she loved it, she was not much of an artist. She was also a bit of a hot head and could sometimes explode without warning, but she was kind, caring, compassionate and always tried to listen and offer advice to people in need.

In fact at the moment, what Hermione really needed was herself, a comforter and adviser that went out of her way to help others. What was she going to do? She didn't like the idea of repressing all of her feelings and hiding them away. From past experience she knew that doing that set you on the road to disaster. If you keep hiding things inside of you, then eventually there is not going to be anymore room and somethings are going to come out usually, Hermione had observed, in an argument that involved shouting.

She sat down on a window seat, lay back and began to think. If only she had something or someone one who would help her release what was inside of her, would help her un-bottle and expose her true feelings. More out of habit than anything, Hermione grabbed some ink, a quill and a foot of parchment. There was something about a blank piece of paper that excited her. You could do whatever you wanted with it, it was yours. As she twirled the feather quill around in her hands an idea came to her. What she needed was a Letter Friend. Someone she could write all her worries to without disclosing her true identity. It was perfect. She dunked the quill into the inkwell and began to write.

Dear Letter Friend,

I am sorry to bother you, whoever you are, but I just want to talk.

I know that undoubtedly you will find this strange but at the moment I feel lost and need some advice on which way to go. My two best friends seem to no longer have time for me and I am not particularly close to anyone else. I just want someone that I can tell everything and not matter what they will say. I wonder whether you, would be that person. I could be yours to if you wished. I am trustworthy and would definitely not repeat anything you told me. I would not even know who you are, see. We don't have to tell each other what we look like, which house we are in, or our names, only our feelings.

I look forward to hearing from you, though please don't think you have to reply. If you don't feel comfortable, don't have time or just don't want to, I will completely understand.

Thank you, truly,

Your Letter Friend.

P.S. I have told the Owl to deliver this to the first student they came find that is sitting on their own, so I really have know idea who you will be. If you send the letter back with the same Owl, it will know what to do.

Hermione sealed the letter and set off to the Owlery at once, with a new bounce in her step. She choose on of the school Owl's and attached the letter to it's foot. She whispered the instructions in it's ear and let it fly off into the dark sky. She returned back to the Gryffindor common room with a feeling of excitement and nervousness brewing in her stomach. She didn't quite know if she had done the right thing but she felt like a bit of weight had lifted from her shoulders, all the same.

Outside the snow started to fall heavily from the sky, slowly coating the handsome, blond boy. He was sitting down by the Lake, alone, thinking. As he glanced at his reflection in the frozen surface of the water his silver eyes glinted and shone. He was certainly a sight to look at, a catch some of the girls might say, but scratch the exterior he may or may not have been quite so handsome.

Draco Malfoy was a rich, snobbish boy who thought he was superior to most others. His parents were of the opinion that pureblood wizards, wizards whose family line had no muggle or non magic blood in them, where better than others. He in turn had mimicked their beliefs. Draco strutted around the castle like he owned the place, he put out the persona of being important and content but he was the only one who really knew what was going on in his head. He would have gone as far to say that the only person he wasn't was the person others thought he was. Inside he was not proud or conceited but rather nothing more than a lonely little school boy. He had very few real friends, in fact he didn't really have any. Sure, he a group of people that he hung around with, and he certainly had a lot of admirers - mostly infatuated girls who couldn't see past his silver eyes, solid bone structure or six pack, but he didn't really have anyone to talk or joke with. Thats why he liked to spend time alone down by the lake, listening to the nature that lived around it. He felt that the whistling wind and croaking frogs provided a more intellectual conversation than Crabbe, Goyle or the other thugs he was normally hung out with ever could.

Draco stood up and started to walk along the lake's edge. The reeds and other plants usually seen there were obscured by the snow. With every step a pleasant crunching sound followed. In front of him was all white. It just went on and on and on. Every time Draco ventured down here he promised himself that one day he was going to start running and running and running. And he wasn't going to stop because if he did, he would have to come back. Back to this school that he hated so much, back to the lessons where he was continually outshone by Granger and back to his dull, tedious, monotonous life.

An Owl screeched up above him and he turned to see the bird swooping majestically down to him. Mail at this time he wondered, puzzled? And that wasn't an Owl that he recognised either, it was certainly very strange. The Owl landed, digging it talons into his shoulder. He took the letter from its leg and then it flew off again, no doubt back to the Owlery. He opened it quickly and was sure he did not recognise the writing. It was small and neat, tidy, it had a certain beauty to it the way each letter flowed from one to another. This was certainly not written by one of his friends, all their handwriting was atrocious. As he read the letter he was not really sure what to make of it. It was from a person asking him, a complete stranger, to be their 'Letter Friend'. Draco wasn't really sure what to believe. Was it someone having him on? The letter didn't really sound like a joke, quite the contrary in fact. It seemed sincere. He stuffed the letter into his pocket and set of back up to the castle, still pondering what to do. Surely there could be no harm in answering it, they wouldn't know it was him. But would they? One could never be to careful, it might be some spiteful Gryffindor just trying to catch him out. He sighed, why were things always so difficult?

He meet no one as he made his way through the dimly lit corridors and back to the common room. They were all probably still at dinner, chomping their way through some delicious meal the house elves had cooked up. The Slytherin common room was deserted, but Draco didn't mind. He almost liked it better when there were no Crabbe and Goyle grunting or wrestling to get the seat next to the fire. No Pansy Parkinson and any other girls batting their eyelids and smiling longingly at him where ever he went and no Blaise Zabini kissing some girl, he probably didn't even know the name of. It was a lot more peaceful and that was all the better for thinking about his mystery letter. In the end Draco just bit the bullet and decided to do it. He grabbed the nearest bit of parchment and started to write.

Dear Letter Friend,

It is with some uncertainty that I accept your proposal. I find it hard to trust people and hope that you are not just doing this for a laugh. Your letter seemed truthful and I am just hoping you have not deceived me, my willingness to help others does not always come easily, should I say.

I am prepared to try and help you sort out whatever your problems are, though I make no promises, I am not a miracle worker! I would be grateful to let you listen to mine though I am not yet sure what they might be.

I look forward, though anxiously, to hearing from you. I hope you think that your Owl has given your letter to a worthy enough person.

Your Letter Friend.

Draco looked over the letter staring at it. Had those words really come from his mind. They sounded so unlike him, like someone else had planted them there. All the better he supposed, the less like him he was (or perhaps, though he didn't know it, the more like the true him he was) the less likely the person on the other end would figure out who was writing back.

He tucked the letter and his reply into his desk drawer, away from prying eyes and then hopped into bed, lying awake wondering if he had done the right thing.

Chapter 2 -

Draco woke up first, the next morning and got dressed in a hurry, wanting to send the before the others awoke, so he could avoid awkward questions. He hurried up to the Owlery and sent it right away, before hurrying down to the Great Hall, absolutely starving as he had missed tea the previous night.

Hermione Granger's alarm clock buzzed telling her that it was time to get up and get ready for lessons later that day. She groaned along with Parvati and Lavender whom bunked next to her. The sun shone brightly through the window, magnified one hundred times as it reflected of the snow. Grudgingly she got up, got dressed and went down to breakfast.

She had quite forgotten about the letter she had sent yesterday and so was surprised when an Owl landed on the table next to her, dropping an envelope and grabbing a piece of her bacon. She snatched it up, wondering whether her parents had sent her something. But it wasn't that long since the Christmas holidays, they wouldn't usually write so soon after seeing her would they? She tore it open and a her stomach did a back flip with excitement. She had a reply, someone really did want to talk to her. She smiled hard as she read through the letter, the person seemed nice enough, even if they were a bit guarded and unsure. Hermione peered along the Gryffindor table taking in all the people who sat there. Who had received her letter? Were they from her own house, she wondered? Or were they from Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. She knew they weren't in Slytherin, no one from that house could possibly be that kind, they were all a bunch a mean, stuck up, wastes of space. As she scanned along a few more rows she noticed that Harry and Ron, accompanied,unsurprisingly, by the two growths that were obviously permanently attached to their arms had just enter the Great Hall. Feeling that she would rather keep the letter private, after all she had promised she wouldn't tell anyone what her Letter Friend had said, and besides Ron and Harry didn't tell her everything, why should she tell them?

Breakfast was fairly uneventful after that, she received a 'hello' and 'good morning' from her two best friends but neither tried to involve her in a conversation. They were too busy, getting both their 'sweethearts' to eat toast from their hands. Hermione shuddered openly, this was going way to far, she had to leave before her breakfast came back up again.

As a result of her early exit from breakfast, Hermione was the first to line up outside the Potions room. She shivered and pulled her robes tighter around her shoulders. She wished that they would heat the castle in winter, especially down here in the dungeons. But she guessed that the warmth probably wouldn't suit Snape, the Potions master. He seemed to thrive on it, he was immune to it, it didn't seem to affect him the way it did everyone else. Hermione sat lost in thought for a moment. Was it cold that Snape thrived on? Or was it the fact that it made everyone else miserable? Did it make him feel better about himself, the fact that he didn't feel like his nose and ears were going to fall off, while everybody else's did? He could be cruel, she thought. As she rubbed her red hands she heard a familiar smirk come from further down the corridor. She scowled. It was Draco Malfoy and his cronies.

"What's wrong Mudblood?" said his harsh, droning voice, "To cold for you? Can't you afford a fur lined cape or gloves? I thought it was just Weasley who was poor." Malfoy smirked and plowed on. "I guess thats why you you him make such a couple, you haven't got a penny between you! Oh wait, thats right he's already got a girlfriend, you're not even good enough for him are you Mudblood."

Malfoy stopped triumphantly, while the rest of his group laughed. Every word had been chosen carefully to provide maximum damage. Hermione, though tormented a lot by Malfoy, still felt stung by every insult he had just thrown at her. She was not going to lose her dignity though, that was for sure. She straightened up thinking of a way to respond.

"Frankly, the fur in your cape doesn't do anything for you at Malfoy, it just makes you look fatter than you already are," Hermione's voice was sharp and icy, "I wouldn't have thought that would do much for your appearance, it might lose you some favour among the ladies, oh thats right they all know you're an ugly git already!"

Malfoy glared at her like only he could, luckily for Hermione's sake before he could retaliate they were joined by Snape and the rest of the class. She wandered in and took her regular seat on the table in the corner. She was still seething when Harry and Ron came to join her. It Hermione had not been so angry she would have wondered how Ron had managed to shake off Lavender, but if she hadn't been so angry she might have noticed them blowing kisses and staring at each other across the room.

Potions was right down Hermione's alley. It was full of memorisation and precision. Two things she had always excelled at. Today they were making the 'Arubainima' potion. Hermione was rather surprised Snape had suggested it as she would have thought that to him it would seem rather frivolous, as it was mixture that would make the drinker smell like old socks for a week, but hey maybe he did have a sense of humour. As Hermione set out her scales, began boiling her newt's blood and chopping her gurdy root, she wondered darkly whether there might be a way to slip Malfoy some of her potion. That would shut him up a bit.

The rest of day passed rather slowly, she was somewhat distracted during her last class, History of Magic and was not making her usual detailed notes. Instead she was thinking about the letter she had in her pocket, her own secret friend. How would she answer it, she wondered. She knew that it would take a bit of thought in order to get the wording exactly right, she didn't want to give away her identity to her mystery counterpart. But at the same time she wanted to give him, or her, a bit of a feeling about what it was like to be Hermione Granger.

At long last Mr Binn's stopped going on about the 'Great Dragon Massacre' of 1657 and dismissed the class. Harry and Ron wandered off vaguely mentioning something about 'studying'. As she watched them depart in the direction of the Quidditch pitch she thought to herself, yeah right, if they are going to study, then she was a flobberworm! She walked slowly back up to the top of Gryffindor common room, making a point a of going the longer way so she could look at the girl at the piano and then she settled down in front of the fire. Crookshanks came to see her a little while later, curling up on her lap, making it impossible to complete the diagram of a sphinx, she was meant to be doing for Care of Magical Creatures. Taking this as a sign that she was not meant to finish it right then and there she took out the letter and began to plan a reply. It took a while but she finally ended up with something she was happy with.

Dear Letter Friend,

You can't imagine how overjoyed I was to get your reply and to hear that you would like to help me! I am so excited that I am shaking as I write this letter (so sorry if it shows in my handwriting).

I fully understand what you mean when you say you find people hard to trust as I myself feel the same way. I find it hard to trust people I don't know and I find it hard to get to know people enough to trust them. This is why I hope to get to you and you to get to know me, though not by name.

I hope my problems are not so severe that you need a miracle to help me. It doesn't even matter if you don't have any advice to give me, I just need someone to listen really.

I don't however expect you to listen without knowing a bit about me first. Though some may call me loud or a show off, in fact I am rather shy. I don't like to give things ago unless I know the answer of by heart. Don't get me wrong, I love to learn new things, I just feel more comfortable around things and people I already know. I like to read and write and do stuff like that and I wish I was a bit more sporting but I am not. I am dead scared of flying, I can barely look at a broom without feeling sick! I can't believe I just told you that. My best friends don't even know. I try to put out the story that I just don't have time, but I could fly if I wanted to but in fact I am just scared. Really scared!

One thing I love is art and nature. I love how it changes and you are never going to see the same thing again. As I write this letter I am looking out of my window toward the lake. The grounds are covered in a white blanket and the trees looking like the are dusted in icing sugar. I love the thought that there is art in nature. If I could draw I would draw this same view everyday. It never fails to amaze me, one day you think you have it figured out and the next you barely recognise it. Have you seen the picture of the girl playing the piano on the fourth floor. It is truly beautiful, one of my favourite paintings. I wish I could paint or draw but I am useless.

Thanks for listening,

Your Letter Friend.

As Crookshanks stirred and jumped down from her lap, Hermione awoke and checked her watch, it was six o'clock, dinner time. She hurried down to the Great hall making a mental note to post the letter when she returned.

On the other side of the castle Draco, Pansy, Blaise and Goyle were making their way to dinner. Crabbe was in detention with McGonagall for failing to hand in his home work on transfiguring rats and other small rodents. While Draco didn't really care where Crabbe was, he did observe that Goyle looked strangely bare without him. You never really saw one without the other, like bread and butter or salt and pepper. Blaise was slumping along, his usual moody self not saying a word. Pansy was attempting to draw Malfoy's attention on to herself.

"Draco, Draco," she said in a sickly sweet voice, dragging out the 'a' as long as she could. "What's on your mind?"

Draco shuddered to himself, trying to remember why he hung around with her at all. She was so annoying, why couldn't she just leave him be? She couldn't go two days without throwing herself at him and trying to manipulate him into asking her out. A shiver went down his spine at the mere thought. Ughh, date Pansy Parkinson, no chance. Not only did her face look like she had been smashed with a frying pan but going out with her would mean spending more time with her, something he could quite comfortably live without thank you very much. Forcing himself back to reality Draco answered Pansy's query.

"Nothing, just hungry".

"Oh" she replied apparently disappointed that she was the subject of his every thought.

Draco repressed a smile a Pansy's noticeable dismay. They continued walking and took their place at the Slytherin table. The truth was he did have something on his mind and it had a lot to do with the letter that was now hidden in one of the draws in his desk.

Chapter 3 -

Hermione had trudged up to Gryffindor tower last night content and full of food. When she reached the girls dormitory she realised that although she wanted the letter sent she couldn't really bring herself to walk all the way to the Owlery and back. Curfew would be put in place soon anyway and she didn't think that she would make it in time. The letter was going to have to wait until morning.

The next morning was cold and rainy. Hermione would have liked nothing better than to stay tucked up in her cosy warm bed. Unfortunately lessons beckoned and Hermione didn't want to fall behind. The first class Hermione and her fellow Gryffindor's had was Transfiguration with the Ravenclaws. Professor McGonagall was teaching them all how to change cats into dogs. It was rather complicated but Hermione, to nobodies real surprise, managed to complete the task after only a few goes. Ron groaned.

"How come is it that you are always so good at everything?"

Hermione smiled "I listen Ronald, if you did that you would know that the proper incantation is 'Laymaro' not Laymerio'!"

"Oh" said Ron slightly embarrassed. "But you would have still got it faster than me, you are amazing, you know I wonder whether there is anything that you can't do."

Hermione giggled, perhaps a little to hard, broomsticks had just come into her head. "Nope, nothing."

Ron smiled while Harry chuckled.

After Transfiguration was Ancient Runes. As neither Harry or Ron took this subject she bid them goodbye and wondered off to class. Ancient Runes was in a corridor not to far off from the Owlery and so Hermione thought that if she hurried she might just have time to post the letter before Professor Babbling arrived. Slightly out of breathe from the pace in which she had just made her way to the Owlery, she grabbed the Owl that knew who her Letter Friend was and attached her letter. She then hurried back down the stairs breaking into a run.

Hermione made it to Ancient Runes just in time to nip into her seat before Professor Babbling took the register. The old grey haired witch eyed Hermione suspiciously wondering why she was breathing hard and her curly brown hair was all over the place. Hermione lowered her soft brown eyes from Professor Babbling's green ones. She did not want detention for tardiness.

Because Ancient Runes was an options class it meant that Hermione was surrounded by wizards from all four houses, not just two. It was a relatively small class with just 12 people in it. Hermione liked this, it meant that you got more time one on one with teacher and so hopefully you learnt a bit more. Today they were given a page of five difficult runes and Professor Babbling split them into pairs to translate them. To Hermione's displeasure she was partnered with none other than Draco Malfoy. Annoyed she moved desks to sit next to him. She could tell that he wasn't overjoyed by the arrangement either. He clenched his teeth when she sat down.

"Phew, what is that smell?" Draco said immaturely. "Oh yeah, your covered in filth and dirt aren't you Mudblood". Draco waited for a reaction. He couldn't really smell anything, he just wanted to wind her up. In fact she actually smelled quite nice, Draco thought it was oranges, before pushing the notion out his head.

"Shut it Malfoy" said Hermione her voice menacing.

"I'm scared now" he replied, faking fear and shaking.

Hermione took a deep breathe, determined not to take the bait, all she needed was to get through five teeny weeny translations and then she was free from this monster. Malfoy waited for a reply in vain. When he realised none was coming her got back on with his work. They passed the rest of the lesson in silence.

Hermione walked down to lunch praying that she would never be paired with him again. She plopped herself down at the Gryffindor table and got into a conversation with Parvati Patil. Once the plates had cleared Parvati drifted off somewhere and Hermione once again found herself alone.

She was not the only one. Draco Malfoy was sitting outside by the forest, listening to the howling wind and watching the leaves play chase with one another. The tall pines cast a shadow over the ground making it colder than it already was. Some of the snow had melted because of the rain earlier. Draco cursed as he stood up realising he had just been sitting on the wet ground. Casting a quick spell so he no longer looked like he had bladder issues, he noticed an Owl coming to meet him. A familiar Owl. He stomach churned, could this be his Letter Friend? The Owl looked tired, it had obviously been searching for him for most of the day. Giving it's beck an affectionate pat, he took the letter and continued walking. He read it and smiled, he knew how he was going to reply.

It had been a week since Hermione had posted her letter and there still had not been a reply. She was beginning to think that the whole thing had been a mistake. She had liked writing and receiving letters but it was starting to seem that her Letter Friend might not. She was sad. She felt pathetic. Sad over losing a person she barely knew. Sad over losing a person who barely knew her. What was wrong with her. Pull yourself together she thought savagely to herself. Don't be such a big baby. You barely knew them anyway, its not much of a loss. But not matter how many times she told herself that, deep down she knew it was a loss and a big one. She had squandered her one means of relief and excitement.

As the post Owl's flew in over breakfast that morning, Hermione didn't even bother looking up. She just carried on eating her bacon and eggs. Suddenly she heard crash beside her at her goblet of pumpkin juice spilt all over the table. Hermione didn't rush to clean it up, she was too busy staring at the letter the Owl had given her.

Should she open it? Was it what she thought it was? It was bigger and heavier than usual. Deciding she would prefer to open in while just in her own company, Hermione silently slipped out and sat on one of the many couches that littered that halls.

Dear Letter Friend,

Quite the contrary, your hand writing is beautiful. Thats what struck me about your first letter, it was elegant and composed. I know that your not someone who I am around regularly because I have never seen any writing that is even remotely up to your standard.

As to your next statement I am glad to hear that we are both on the same page and I can honestly say that I want to know you, something I don't say very often.

I am flattered to think that even though it was only your second letter you were still able to confide in me about your fear of flying. It is fine to be afraid, maybe if we ever meet I could take you out on my broom. You probably just need proper lessons. You would safe with me, I know how to fly as I am on my house Quidditch team. Oops did I just let that slip? I love flying, I love the wind and the feeling of freedom. Like you can you go on and on and nothing is standing in your way, nothing but you and the open sky.

I couldn't agree with you more, I have always found beauty in nature and art is a passion of mine, though I have never told anyone that (God your making me spill my inner self already!), especially my, I guess you would them, friends. They would just laugh themselves silly. They are not particularly intellectual should I say, they don't understand what about things make them beautiful. They just see a flower and think it is a flower, while you and I might not take it so for granted. There is so much to learn from that one flower. It is soft and delicate, smooth and patterned. It needs to be admired, appreciated just for being there and making everything else around it look brighter. Why is it there? How did it get there? What can I take from it? How can it change me? Look at me going on. I am never like this to anyone else, I am just a scared little school boy (Oops), despite what others may think I am.

I also enjoy learning and enjoy most of my classes (though I pretend otherwise). You can never read to much either. I haven't seen the painting girl playing the piano, I don't really venture that way much, but I will now, in fact I will make a detour that away as soon as I can.

I hope that you will forgive me for not replying to your letter straight away. But your words about the view from your window changing everyday really got to me. I couldn't agree with you more. Though I had noticed it already, hearing it from you really made me stop and look. It gave me an idea that I hope you will like (look at the other package).

Thanks, truly,

Your Letter Friend.

Excitedly Hermione delved further in the package and pulled out seven A4 pieces of paper. Turning them carefully over in her hands she examined them her eyes widening. Each one was a pencil drawing of the lake and forest. On the back they had the date, there was for everyday of the week, since Hermione had sent her letter. Each drawing was of the same view, but they were all slightly different. He, her Letter Friend, had taken Hermione's opinion and turned it into art. She knew enough about art to tell that these were amazing, the attention to detail was impeccable. She smiled unable to contain her happiness any longer. No one had ever done that for her before. No one had put in that amount of time to make something that they knew she would really appreciate. She was starting to wonder who her Letter Friend was. She knew he was a boy who played Quidditch, there were quite a few male players but that certainly narrowed it down. From what Hermione had observed most Quidditch players were rather good looking, her Letter Friend was turning into a bit of a catch. Hermione smiled at thought, before stopping and reminding herself that she only wanted a friend, not something more. She tucked the letter into her robes and lovingly placed the drawings in her bag. She ran off, buzzing with her new found energy.

Chapter 4 -

Over the next few days Hermione was swamped with homework and it was hard to find a moment in which she had free time, and she was alone, in order to reply to her letter. She had however looked over her drawings more than once and had hung them all up on the top of her four poster bed. She could now look up whenever she was trying to sleep and see the magical view down the lake. They never failed to make her smile, she loved them, almost more than the girl at the piano. The drawings, although beautiful, made her feel a slight bit pressure, what could she put in her letter as a thank you gift? It was going to take a bit of thinking.

Draco wondered what the mysterious letter writer was doing. He was making the assumption that his Letter Friend was a girl, what guy would want to write to a random letter about their feelings? He felt kind of self conscious, what would they think of his drawings. He had never showed anyone his art. He was afraid of the comments. He only did it when he was alone. Yet he enjoyed it. He liked the idea of taking something and changing it completely. He had enjoyed drawing the lake. There were lots of different aspects to consider. Draco had jumped at the chance to show his Letter Friend his talent. They couldn't laugh at him because they didn't know who he was and even if they did he wouldn't be around to see it. For some reason, Draco didn't think that they would laugh. They seemed to him, like a kindred spirit. He hoped that she would reply soon, he liked hearing from her and most all he wanted to find out about his drawings. What was happening to him? Was he going soft?

The snow was starting to clear and you could almost see the green carpet underneath. The ice was cracking and Hermione had a strange suspicion that the Giant Squid was partly behind it. That particular day, the sun was shining and Hermione thought she would take a stroll down by the woods. She doubted that Ron and Harry would notice her absence and so did not wait to tell them where she was headed. Before she would have felt lonely or upset that Ron and Harry hadn't come to find her. But now she felt perfectly content. She had even tried to be alone, because that meant she could reply to her mysterious man, her Letter Friend.

Draco meanwhile was relaxing in the Slytherin common room. He was bored, and sick of listening to more of Pansy's drivel.

"...And so I told her to back off, you were mine."

"Aha" said Malfoy not sure what he was agreeing to.

Pansy smiled and reached over to stoke Draco's shiny, blond hair.

"I am so lucky" said Pansy slowly still entranced in Malfoy's eyes. "So lucky, to have the handsomest, cutest guy in school."

"Wah" said Malfoy the horrific statement hitting him like cold water. He was not Pansy's, he had never been Pansy's and would never be Pansy's!

Suddenly he stood up throwing Pansy sideways off her chair. Absentmindedly he muttered something about "going to the bathroom" before going off in the opposite direction. He had just realised that this would be the perfect time to look for the picture of the girl playing the piano. His friend had told him that it was somewhere on the fourth floor. This didn't mean much to him. He had walked up there occasionally, mainly to reach the Astronomy and Divination towers but he hadn't really looked around. It was more around the Ravenclaw, Gryffindor way whose common rooms were of course in towers. The Slytherin one was under the lake so you couldn't really get further away.

Draco wandered around aimlessly for a while, wondering how big this floor actually was. It seemed like he had been looking for ages, he didn't want to stay up there to long just incase someone thought he was being suspicious. He spotted a window seat further down the corridor and decided to rest his legs for a while. He collapsed into it and looked up. There in a plain wooden frame was a girl playing an old piano. She was pretty and had a warmth to her eyes. Her rosy cheeks stood out against her pale but pleasant face. The piano was wooden and looked slightly battered. Unlike the rest of the wizard paintings the girl hardly moved at all, she almost seemed above it. She just gently moved her fingers up, down and across the keys. You could just hear the soft, scintillating sound issuing from the instrument. Draco could fully understand why his Letter Friend loved this painting. This was because he loved it to. He wished he could have given his paintings the same life that this one had.

Draco heard footsteps coming from around the corner. As loathe as he was to part from the painting he knew he couldn't bee seen skulking along the path to the Gryffindor common room. If there was one rule in Hogwarts, it was that Gryffindor's and Slytherin's did not mix.

Hermione turned the corner, her nose in a book. She was making her way to her painting, wondering whether her Letter Friend had seen it, not knowing how close they had been to meeting.

Chapter 5 -

Draco's mind was still on other things when he bumped into his usual gang, on his way to Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"Draco" Pansy said, sounding partly worried, partly annoyed. "Where did you go? It doesn't take someone an hour to go to the bathroom, what are you hiding?"

"Nothing" said Draco hurriedly, "There was just a long queue is all". Hoping Pansy would been taken in by his slightly unbelievable deception.

"Oh, sorry, of course, I should have realised" replied Pansy sounding half ashamed, half relieved.

Draco could almost feel the sweat on his brow. Thank god this was Pansy and not someone like Granger. She would have seen past that in a second.

Today in Defence Against the Dark Arts, they were working on healing spells, which would come in handy if they were ever wounded or attacked. The Professor had shown them how to do it and then divided them up into pairs. Malfoy was with Crabbe. He was slightly worried about this, not because Crabbe was big or tough, but because he was stupid. The teacher was in turn wounding one of the pair and the other was healing them. It usually took Crabbe a while to get the hang of things and Draco didn't really fancy being in pain for too long. Not wanting to look scared in front of the class, he put of a brave face a took it. The teacher had created a gash in his side and Draco was in immense pain. He could feel blood leaking out of him and his vision was blurring. He heard Crabbe's grunting voice from somewhere in front of him.

"Itemagro" snorted Crabbe, getting the spell wrong. "Itamigo, Itamigogo, Itamatago."

Time after time Crabbe was failing to properly annunciate the spell. It is 'Itamago' you idiot thought Malfoy, unable to speak or voice his pain. Hurry up he thought desperately, he couldn't hold on much longer.

"Itamago" shouted the Professor closing up the wound, then turning to shout at Crabbe, for not listening.

It was too late, Malfoy had fainted. He had lost so much blood that he had needed to be carted to the hospital wing and given 'Blood Replenishing Potion'. Madam Pomfery was fuming when Draco awoke.

"Imagine, a teacher wounding a student for practice" she said almost hysterically. "He could have died," she continued "Lucky he came when he did" and she bustled out of the Hospital Wing.

Had he really come that close to dying, Draco wondered. Surely the teacher wouldn't have let that happen. He sat up still feeling slightly dizzy and drowsy. The smell of medicine didn't do anything to help him recover, feeling, that if anything was making him feel worse. He wanted to get back to his warm bed.

It was then that Draco heard a Owl tapping at the window. He turned and his heart rose, it was the usual Owl, his Letter Friend's Owl. Looking from side to side, making sure Madam Pomfery wasn't going to yell at him for getting up, Draco got up and tip toed across to window. The hinges creaked as it opened. He slipped his hand through the opening and grabbed the letter. There on the front was the familiar elegant handwriting. He opened it and began to read.

Dear Letter Friend,

I can't tell you enough how much I loved your drawings. They are some of the most beautiful I have ever seen. You obviously have a true talent, do you practice a lot? I have hung them above my bed, so I can look at them all night, whenever I want to. I love everything about them and the fact that they stemmed from what I told you makes them all the more special. No one has ever done something like that for me before. I am touched, thank you. The only regret I have is that I am not able to return such a gift as I do not possess a skill for artistry, as much as I wished I did. I am sorry and hope you don't feel upset that I did not give you anything in return, but I just couldn't find anything quite right. I didn't want to give you anything shoddy or second rate as that would not even register next to your beautiful pictures.

As for your offer for taking me up on the broomstick, if we ever meet, then maybe one day I would take up the offer. I feel I know you well enough to trust that I would be in safe hands. But in saying that it would still have to be an extraordinarily, nice day, without a cloud or whisper of wind in the sky!

I am no longer as lonely as I was when I sent my first letter. Though my two best friends are pushing further and further away. I find that I am able to cope with it, now that I have you to help me through and that I can truly call you a close friend. I hope everything is fine in your neck of the woods and would be only to pleased to help you out with anything, heck with all you have done for me it is the least I can do!

Did you find the portrait of the girl sitting at the piano? You don't have to go looking for it, I just mention it because it is the only painting that I have seen, that even comes close to your drawings of the grounds. I am not just saying that, believe me. I have high standards and let people know it they are not at them (sorry if I sound pushy, I just want you to know how much they mean to me).

Although I mentioned earlier in the letter that I had not found something in equal beauty to gift you, I still hope that you will take this and I hope it will mean something to you as it would to me. I have told you in previous letters that people don't earn my trust easily. But you have it completely. Even though we have never meet, and may never will, I still find you genuine and deep. You certainly know how to captive people and you hold better, more thinking conversations that my normal circle (they are lovely people but just not quite like you).

Your Letter Friend (not only in letters but in life),

Draco sat there for a minute. Had she really just said his art was amazing and that it compared to very little else she had seen? As good as the girl with the Piano? Did she really think he was talented? And on top of all that deep? Had she really just called him a real friend, had she just given him her trust? To him this last statement totally won out over his gift. She trusted him, what better gift could you give? Draco was stunned. She was amazing. Completely and absolutely amazing. With every word he hung on tighter unable to get enough. Not only did they share common interests, but she really got him as well. She got him as no one had ever been able to before. Plus by her Quidditch comment it was obvious she had a sense of humour! Was he falling for her, a complete stranger? Or was it just the lack blood talking? Somehow Draco didn't think it was that latter.

Chapter 6 -

Over the next few days it started to rain rather heavily and soon all the students were competent at the Drying spell as to get from class to class, sometimes it was like walking through a waterfall.

Hermione and her friends were particularly wet at this moment as they had Care of Magical Creatures class. This was taken down by Hagrid's cabin which unfortunately was not sheltered from the wind or the rain.

"Listen up you lot" called Hagrid over the rain and muttering. "Cos of the weather, we'll be working in the forest, bit more shelter in there."

The class couldn't decide whether they should be glad about this arrangement or not. Sure they would love to be dry but the forest was full of any number of creatures and knowing Hagrid he was probably going to show them something terrifying.

As they continued to walk the rain stopped falling on their heads and the only reminder that it was in fact pouring was the far off sound of light pitter patter on the ground. Hagrid led them further and further into the forest. The trees were getting thicker and so they were moving at a snails pace on account of the fact that they had to have a full on battle with every tree they encountered. Finally Hagrid stopped in a clearing and told them all to gather round.

"Today you will be seeing a rather interesting creature by the name of a Kronger, can anyone tell me anything this about this creature?"

To nobody's surprise Hemione's well practiced hand was first into the air. "A Kronger, is a beast full of magical properties. It has the power to turn invisible, morph to become smaller or larger to some degree and it's skin has healing powers."

"Well done, Hermione, ten points for Gryffindor" said Hagrid beaming. "I'll just go get them now, so, if you could all just wait here."

Nobody in the group had any intention of moving. A, they didn't want to stray across the path of some horrid creature and b, none them had the slightest idea of how to get back to Hagrid's hut.

"You are unbelievable Mudblood," said Malfoy from behind her.

Hermione was taken a back. Her unbelievable, this couldn't be Malfoy. When she noticed the evil smile on his face however she thought otherwise.

"And what is that supposed to mean," she replied in a rather bored voice.

"It is unbelievable, how attention seeking you are, hand always first in the air, give someone else a chance, Mudblood!"

Hermione was very hurt by this. She tried to console herself. Well nobody else ever puts their hand up she thought. Someone has to. If the teachers didn't want me to answer the wouldn't ask me. Malfoy is probably just jealous that he didn't know the answers.

"Got them" bellowed Hagrid. "Here they are" and he came out pulling something that looked like a buffalo with red zebra fur. The rest of the lesson was spent learning how to groom them, preserve their coat, to keep the healing powers strong and teaching them what they liked to eat. Hermione remained strangely quiet for the remainder of the lesson and only volunteered information when absolutely no one else had their hand up as well. Malfoy noticed this with his sharp eyes and for once in his life felt a slight jolt of guilt, before brushing it off. Had he really changed so much that he would feel sorry for filthy Mudblood's, he wondered, scared at the mere thought of what his family would say. Not wanting to seem altered Malfoy redoubled his efforts in tormenting others, he was even more ruthless that usual.

It was still raining but Hermione thought that she would go and sit by the lake. In a way, she kind of liked the rain. She liked to watch it. Watch it fall and slosh to the ground. It's music finding harmony with the constant sounds of the forest. The rain was cold and as it sliced down, her cheeks turned numb and red. As she stopped to listen once more she heard something unusual. It was a shrieking sound, but from no animal she had ever heard of. She looked over her shoulder to see an Owl fighting it way over to her. She moved towards it not wanting to make fly any further than it had to. She grabbed the letter and rushed up to the castle clenching it under her robes.

Just as she climbed the stone steps, the bell chimed for start of lessons and Hermione didn't have time to consult her letter. She rushed of, putting the letter in her bag for safe keeping. Later that day she returned to common room with a mound of homework. Some from every class she had done that day. Sighing she pulled it all out of her bag. First she tackled three rune translations, then she read eight passages from her Arithmancy book, before writing a foot and a half essay on the Draught of Living Death for Snape. It was time for dinner and she could see the other students all leaving the common room through the portrait hole. She however decided to stay and continue her work. She practiced the healing spell for Defence Against the Dark Arts and then while moving her 'Practical Defence' book to one side noticed the letter she had received earlier that day. She still hadn't read it. Glancing around, she made sure that no one was watching and began to read.

Dear Letter Friend,

It really made my day to hear that you liked my drawings as I haven't shown anyone them before so hearing some positive feedback feels good. I would also like it point out that they do not even come close to repaying you for giving me your trust. In return I give you mine, all of it, something I haven't given anyone before.

You made me laugh when you mentioned about it being a fine day without wind for you to go flying. From what I can gather from your letters you seem like a fast learner and I am sure you would pick it up very quickly.

I will tell you one thing, your two best friends are lucky to have you, If you were my best friend I don't think I would be able to stay away from you. You have many qualities that very few others have. You are smart, thinking, deep, kind, caring, honest, loyal, funny and I am sure very beautiful. I am sure that your friends will come round but I also reassure you that I will always be here to talk to even if they don't. When you called me a real friend I was shocked and excited, I haven't had many close friends before. Just people who hang around me for the association and gaggles of girls, who have ten brain cells between them and can't see past someones exterior.

I went looking for the girl with the piano a few days ago and to my pleasure I found it (though after a lot of searching). It is quite as beautiful as you described and saying that my art compares to it is the biggest compliment in the world. I loved everything from the brushstrokes to the the colour, I loved how it moved and how it stood out from the other paintings.

With every letter I become more and more curious as to your true identity. You almost seem to good to be true and sometimes I wonder whether there could ever be such a person. You seem too perfect. I want to meet you but not at the same time, I don't want to jeopardize what we have.

Yours truly and completely,

Your Life and Letter Friend.

Hermione was blushing and was glad everyone was at dinner. Had he really just called her beautiful and perfect? She now had his trust and they way he had signed the letter was the icing on the cake. Truly and completely, what beautiful words. Hermione giggled so loudly that she would have given both Ginny and Lavender a run for their money. People where coming back up in drips and drabs so Hermione hid the letter and tried her best to contain her excitement. She didn't get much sleep that night. She was to busy thinking about who her mystery writer was, she definitely felt something more than friendship now, did he?

The next morning Hermione rushed down to breakfast determined to make a study of all the male Quidditch players. Her friend had to be around somewhere. She scanned the Gryffindor table, there were of course they was Harry and Ron, it definitely wasn't them and then there was Cormack, Fred, George, and also Dean Thomas, who was a sub. She shuddered at the thought of Cormack and the very idea of it made her want to be sick. Fred and George would definitely not write all of those nice things. As she glanced of at Dean, who was having a wand fight with Seamus while Harry and Ron were cheering them on, she wondered whether he would have the capacity to appreciate anything if it didn't involve physical activity. Hermione turned her gaze to the Hufflepuff table but turned away from it immediately after seeing Zacharias Smith and thinking to her self it would be a very sad day when she ever confided in him. Along the rest of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff table she saw a few that she recognized from the games but she knew none of them by name. Thinking herself to be mad she looked over the Slytherin's. She did not shudder this time but merely laughed, the idea of Crabbe and Goyle having any depth was laughable and Malfoy would as soon open himself up to her than dye his hair pink! No she was dealing with someone from the middle two tables she just didn't know who, yet.

Draco to was examining the crowd, but he was having even less luck than her as he had considerably less to go on. He knew she was a girl, who was intelligent and caring, with two best friends and that was about it.

The next few days passed slowly without much incident, unless you count Neville somehow glueing head wand to his head with an unknown spell or Harry and Ginny celebrating their three month anniversary.

Chapter 7 -

Over the following weeks and months Hermione and Draco unknowingly continued to write to one another growing steadily closer and caring for each other more and more. They both knew how the other one felt and they both understood the other. Both of them wanted to meet each other, but neither could really put it into words. Finally Draco could stand it no longer and he wrote another letter.

Dear Letter Friend,

Over the past months I have a stronger connection growing between us. You understand me more that anyone else I know. I need to meet you.

Come to the painting of the girl with the piano this Wednesday, at midnight, I will be there. If you don't want to come I will understand.

All my love,

Your Letter Friend.

Hermione received the letter in the morning post. She almost feel off her chair in anxiety. This was it, the moment she had been waiting for. In only two days she would know you he was. She read the parting line over and over again as if she could hardly believe any of it to be true. All my love, so he felt that way to. This was to good to be real.

Over the next few days Hermione was not quite herself and seemed to be a little distracted.

"Are you ok Hermione" asked Ron shrewdly. "It's just you been acting a bit weird lately."

"Yeah" piped up Harry "You can tell us anything, you know that right."

Hermione nodded though she knew she was lying. She couldn't tell them everything, they just wouldn't understand.

On Friday night, she checked that everyone in her dormitory was asleep and then slipped out of bed a went slowly down the stairs. She had spent most of the afternoon deciding what to wear and had decided on a floaty red dress that fitted her perfectly and went to just above the knee. After applying some lipgloss she was ready to go. With her normally bushy hair tied elegantly back in a bun, she looked truly stunning. She sneaked out of the portrait hole and down the stairs, careful not to make any noise and to watch for Filch, the caretaker, and Mrs Norris his cat. Luckily she had a free path to the fourth floor and walked to the painting. Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. There on the window seat was Draco Malfoy!

Draco stood up and looked at her. She looked beautiful. But it was Granger. He had been spilling her inner feelings to her, a Mudblood, his archenemy and target of humiliation.

They stared at each other like they were meeting for the first time. Their eyes met and both realised how warm the others were. And then, as if on cue, they both turned and ran for it.

Hermione climbed back into bed flustered. Her Letter Friend was Draco Malfoy. She had fallen for Draco Malfoy. Hermione wasn't sure what to do. How could the boy, who tormented her, who always seemed so shallow and mean turn out to be one of the people she cared for above all others. How could the mesmerizing words in her letters have come from the same the mouth that frequently reminded her of her muggle born status. How could he have called her beautiful, how had she laughed at his jokes and blushed at his compliments? How had he given her compliments? It was just to much to take in.

Draco stumbled back into his four poster, mouth and eyes wide. How could it have been Granger? How had she written to him as a friend, full of kindness, how had she fallen for him and vice versa? How was it that Draco Malfoy, a powerful pureblooded wizard, had fallen for a lowly Mudblood. He shuddered as he said it. How could he call her that after what she had written? All of her words so meaningful and beautiful, he couldn't insult her now, what was he to do?

Chapter 8 -

Hermione wondered down to breakfast still completely bewildered at the events of last night. Today her timetable showed Potions (with Draco Malfoy), Care of Magical Creatures (with Draco Malfoy) and double Ancient Runes (with Draco Malfoy)! Man life could be cruel!

She buttered her toast willing herself not to look over at the Slytherin table. She just didn't trust herself. Trust. She had given Draco Malfoy her trust.

Draco looked at his silver goblet, he could see the Gryffindor table reflected in it. Sitting there, plain as day, was Granger. She looked pretty, how could he think that? She looked like this everyday and he had never thought that before what was happening to him?

Potions was awful. Hermione found herself staring over a him when he wasn't looking and then she was careless with her potion ingredients. It exploded and she was given detention for Thursday next week. Malfoy's lesson wasn't much better. He could feel her eyes on him and wanted nothing more than to turn and meet them and feel their warmth. But he couldn't, he shouldn't.

They were both thankful for Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid had them off finding a special type of tree root to feed their latest charges. To both Draco's and Hermione's immense relief they were in different groups and went off in totally separate directions. The only problem was that they couldn't get the other one out of their heads. Draco was constantly thinking of Hermione's shiny, brown hair and pink rosy cheeks, he was sure he never would have described them that way before. Hermione's mind was on his handsome face, perfect hair and gorgeous body, wait had she just called him gorgeous?

Ancient Runes was the worst. Professor Babbling had paired up Draco and Hermione, now they were going to have to spend the entire double period in one another's company. Neither of them spoke, they kept their heads down and on their work. They didn't speak one word to one another. Hermione was glancing out of the corner of her eye, unable to help herself. Draco did the same. Their eyes met for a moment before they hastily returned to writing about the early wizarding society they were researching.

Hermione stayed in the grounds for the rest of the day. She needn't to be alone, to have some time to think and reflect. It was dark when she made her way up to Gryffindor tower. Her legs knew the route and were carrying her there automatically. She realised they had taken her the long way. They stopped. She stared at the painting, thinking how much she loved it and how much he had too. Why did she keep coming back to Draco Malfoy?

Hermione head footsteps from around the corner and got up to leave. To her surprise (and partial delight though she tried to deny it) it was him. He walked over to her and they stared into one another's eyes, neither wanting to look away or break the silence. His eyes were silver and light, but they were not cold like she remembered them. Hers were browny, gold and they seemed never ending. They stepped closer towards one another, the girl at the piano serenading them softly. They were so close now they could feel the others warm breathe on their faces. Draco put his hands on Hermione's waist and Hermione held his neck tightly. They moved even closer so their lips touched and then he was kissing her and she was kissing him. They were entwined for a moment before separating and not breaking the gaze into each others eyes. They turned together, and looked at the painting.

Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. Gently and silently his placed it into to her hands. Never once removing his eyes from hers. She dropped her gaze and fumbled, clumsily trying to unseal the paper. She opened it and read.

I love you.