Disclaimer:Does not belong to me. Except the plot.

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Prologue: The Echoes Of Your Voice

The silence is deafening.

"Close your eyes and pretend that you're somewhere that makes you happy," Hermione's voice quivered slightly.

"A park? Yes, a park with e-emerald green grass…" I could almost see the tears trailing down her face. Almost, but my eyes are closed and I only see the green, green grass. The grass is pale green, and the moon I see above …it's shape resembles...

"The smell of grass wafts towards you. Ahead, many exotic flowers greet you," she continues softly.

This is only a way to relax, to numb the aching pain in our hearts. Hermione seems so depressed. I suppose Ron is only going along with this to make her feel better… as for me, the second she mentioned this, I knew I would take this seriously. I want to use my imagination to create a place where I would no longer live with the aching pain in my heart. This feeling that nothing can ease… if only a moment, just a moment… I would be happy. Yet I do not want to be without the pain. It is the proof of my love. The proof that I exist.

Three days ago, we received news that her parents were involved in an accident. Her father was fine, save for a broken leg, but her mother has passed away.

She is silent. I understand. She has no more words to speak. I take her role and start speaking. "Just before you, you see the person you've been longing to see, the person whom is so near yet so far. The person whom you love with all your heart, whose face you cannot forget."

That is all. I try to erase the sound of Hermione's sob from my mind as I stare into the face of Draco Malfoy.

I speak the words I've always wanted to speak. The words which I can never even whisper.

"I love you."

All to an illusion. His face contorts into an expression of surprise, as I've always imagined that it would. Then, he breaks out into a gentle smile. "I love you too."

Only a dream; a figment of my imagination. A candle which I have not put out. I never want this to end. Four simple words, pure and simple, are enough to drive my body insane. Unwillingly, I leave the illusion to take care of my little problem. The echoes of his voice still resound in my head.

Perhaps someday, I'll say it to his face.

Author's note: Harry has a thing for Draco. Is it love? Or is it lust? And what of Draco?