After reading Draco's letter, I sat and cried for hours. I cried for my broken heart. I cried for Draco's screwed up life. I cried for the life we could have had, if either of us had simply opened our fucking mouths and told the other what we were feeling and thinking. Eventually, I stopped crying and was left wondering what to do next.

Should I write him back? What was I supposed to say? Should I forgive him? COULD I forgive him? Should I go to London and see him face to face? There were just so many questions I didn't have the answers to. But there was one thing I knew for sure, I still loved Draco Malfoy. I probably always would.

It had been six months since I left London, and I had dated a couple of wizards during my time in Paris. One was the Senior Undersecretary to the French Minister. Jean-Paul Duchamp was a very handsome, very wealthy Pureblood who pursued me from my first day at the Ministry. After several weeks of turning him down, it occurred to me there was no reason I shouldn't go out with him. I was sure Draco wasn't sitting at home pining for me. So why shouldn't I enjoy my life. That was my reason for coming to Paris in the first place. But Jean-Paul wasn't the one for me. After three dates, I realized that his biggest concern was becoming Minister, and he saw War Heroine Hermione Granger as his guarantee to win an election.

Then there was Yves Rousseau, a charming man I met at a cocktail party at the Minister's home. I went out with him for a month. He was everything a girl could want. He was tall, handsome, successful, very sweet, thoughtful, and he seemed to really like me. But when he kissed me, there was nothing. I didn't feel anything at all for him. I came to the conclusion that even though I left England behind, Draco still held my heart in the palm of his hands. And I didn't know how to get it back.

Then Draco's letter arrived and I really didn't know what to do. So I did nothing. I just let it go. For weeks, I pushed aside what I was feeling. I refused to think about him at all.

Then one day, walking through the city on my lunch break, I saw him. I froze in disbelief. There was Draco walking out of a bistro at the end of the block. And he wasn't alone. He was with a tall, willowy blonde. She was model perfect, exactly the sort of woman one would expect the Slytherin Prince to have on his arm. So much for his claim that he loved me. I guess he didn't come to Paris to find me.

I turned to walk away, hoping he was going in the other direction. But before I took two steps, I heard my name fall from his perfect lips.

"Granger?"

"Hermione Granger."

I really just wanted to run, or be swallowed up by a massive hole in the sidewalk. Anything to get out of this meeting. But no help was forthcoming. I was going to have to face the man I still loved, while his stunning new girlfriend hung off his arm.

I pasted a smile on my face and turned on my heel to greet the man who broke my heart as politely as I possibly could.

"Draco? What are you doing in Paris?" I asked, trying not to openly stare at his companion.

"Family business. Father asked me to sit in on a couple of corporate meetings for him while he and Mother are away on a second honeymoon. You look great. France always did agree with you." He answered, stepping forward as though he wanted to embrace me. I stepped back at the same time to put more distance between us.

"How have you been? Did you get my letter?" Draco looked so sweet standing there with his head slightly tilted to the side. The pretty blonde seemed to be absorbed in staring at the building across the street.

"Yes. I received a letter from you. Did you mean even half of what you wrote? Because, right now, it looks as though you either changed your mind or were drunk when you wrote it." I said, glancing at the woman holding his arm.

He looked puzzled. "What do you mean? Of course, I meant every word. I miss you and wish you would come home. I want you to give me a chance to earn your forgiveness. I know I probably don't deserve it, but I'm asking anyway. I've changed since you left London."

I just stood there looking at him. How could he stand there telling me he had changed, while the blonde Barbie was holding his arm, now staring at me vacantly. Was he kidding?

"Hermione? Are you okay? Why aren't you saying anything?" He paused, waiting for a response from me. "You're still angry with me. That's why you haven't written back. Do you hate me now?"

I still didn't know what to say. How could I be honest with him about my feelings with her standing next to him?

"Draco, I don't think now is the best time to discuss this. And this definitely isn't an appropriate place to talk. Why don't you owl me in a day or two? I'm sure your friend has better things to do than stand here on the street listening to us. You two enjoy the rest of your date." And with a turn on my heel, I apparated away, leaving a very confused Draco behind.

He gave his head a shake as though trying to clear his mind. He turned to his companion, "What just happened here? What did I do?"

"Well, if you are asking my opinion, I think your mistake was not introducing me. It seems as though Miss Granger is under the impression that I am your date. Your problem could have been solved if she knew we were cousins."

"No. She couldn't think that. We look too similar. She could see by our colouring and features we are related, Mireille." Draco countered.

"Draco, for someone who gets around as much as you do, you really know very little about women. If you had told her we are cousins, she would have seen the resemblance. But just standing here on the sidewalk, the two of you talking, you basically ignoring my presence, what was she supposed to think? She believes your innate good manners would have forced you to introduce your companion, if there was nothing to hide in our being together. When you didn't introduce us, she probably thinks I am someone you are ashamed to have her meet. Another of your conquests. You told me about the women she found you with, did you introduce them? Of course you didn't. You were embarrassed to be caught with them. You are going to have to find her and explain, or she will never give you another chance."

"Do you think she went back to her office at the Ministry? Maybe I can catch her there." Draco dropped Mireille's arm and started to move away, absently.

"Draco, shouldn't you take me with you?" She stood looking at him, hands on her hips. "It might be better if I'm with you to back up your explanation. Otherwise, she will most likely think you just dumped me to chase after her."

"Oh, yeah. You're right. Come on." He reached out, grabbing her hand and pulling her along.

"I am not sure you deserve a another chance with that woman." Mireille muttered under her breath.

Upon arriving at the Ministry, they stopped at the reception desk and asked for Miss Granger's office.

"Miss Granger is not in. She owled that she would not be returning after lunch due to a sudden migraine. Would you like to leave a message?" The mouse moo little receptionist asked.

"Umm, no. I will owl her later, I guess. Thank you" Draco replied, looking utterly defeated.

He left the Ministry with Mireille holding his arm and escorted her home. "Darling, I know you are disappointed. Go to your hotel and relax for a bit. Then write her a lovely note apologizing for failing to introduce your French cousin. Tell her you love her. And ask her to meet you for dinner or at least a cocktail."

He kissed her on the cheek and turned and walked away without a word.

"He is never going to work this out on his own." Mireille huffed.

Later that evening, Hermione sat reading by the open window in her flat when she heard a soft knock at her door.

She opened the door to find Draco's beautiful paramour standing there.

"Can I help you?" Hermione asked quietly. What in the world is this woman doing at my door? flashed through her mind.

"Good evening. I wanted to introduce myself since Draco so rudely ignored my presence this afternoon. I am Mireille Malfoy." She smiled at Hermione.

"Oh. Congratulations." Hermione replied.

The blonde looked confused. Then it occurred to her what the pretty brunette must think.

"Oh, no! I am not Draco's wife! We are cousins! Lucius is first cousin to my father, Alexander Malfoy. That is why I came to see you. I knew you would think I was one of Draco's little playmates! I could see it in your face when you were speaking with him. And being the idiot he is, it did not occur to him to introduce us to correct the mistake."

Hermione was at a loss. So she simply pulled the door open wider and motioned her guest inside.

"Please, sit down. Would you like tea?"

"No. Do not trouble yourself. I just wanted to clear the air so to speak. I knew when you walked away, you thought Draco and I were on a date. I actually caught what you said, unlike Draco, who I had to convince. He assumed you would see the resemblance and automatically know he and I are related. Silly man! He does not always think things through. It's a good thing he is pretty!" She giggled.

Hermione couldn't help smiling at the woman. She seemed very sweet.

"How did you find my flat? Draco doesn't have my address." Hermione asked.

"Yves. He and I went to school together. We still see each other socially. Our mothers are very close. I remembered the two of them discussing your relationship with Yves. So I stopped by his office and got your address. He said you were no longer dating. He thinks you are still hung up on some Englishman. Would that be Draco by chance?" Mireille said with a grin.

Hermione didn't answer. Instead, she got up and went to the kitchen to start tea. She moved around the room on instinct. Pulling out the tea tray and cups. Placing biscuits on a plate. She jumped when the kettle whistled.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Mireille said quietly, leaning on the door frame, watching her. "How do you feel about Draco? Are you still in love with my cousin? I can tell you that he is still in love with you. Do not look so startled. He let me read your letter. And he told me about the letter he wrote you. You did not write back. That is why he is here, you know? He came to find you. Did you know he stopped seeing those women? After he received your letter, he just stopped. He stayed drunk for quite a while. Then he sobered up. He does not go out anymore unless it's to have a drink with one of his friends. Theo is here too. He told me. And he said Draco turns down every woman that throws herself at him when they go out."

"Do you want to see him? Talk to him. You are still just as in love with him as he is you." She paused and waited for an answer. "Stubborn people!" Mireille flounced out of the room.

Hermione moved to the kitchen window that looked out over Paris. She watched the people moving in the street, thinking about what Mireille said.

Did Draco still love her? Had he ever? She thought about all the things he had said in the letter he wrote. About Lucius and Narcissa not objecting to her blood status any longer. Could they really accept her? He had never told her he was being pressured to marry. Although, there were things that made sense now. Like how Astoria Greengrass had tried to sit with them in the library at Hogwarts every chance she got. And Tracey Davis asking Draco to help with her Care of Magical Creature homework, when she regularly scored higher than he did in that class.

He had revealed things she had not known. He had told her about women he had been with when they were living in Paris. That was a surprise. She had no idea that had happened. It hurt to think about now. He admitted to feeling guilty about things he had said and done. But could she afford to believe him? Was her heart strong enough to let him in again? She just didn't know.

Suddenly, she heard voices in the living room. She had been so caught up in her own mind that she had forgotten about Mireille. Someone must have knocked and her guest answered for her. She added a third cup to the tray, and filled the teapot with boiling water. Picking up the tray, she stepped through to the living room and promptly dropped the tray on the floor.

Standing there in her living room, in all his blonde perfection, was Draco Malfoy. She quickly turned and walked back into the kitchen.

"Well, that didn't go the way you thought it would. I thought she was supposed to jump into your arms and kiss you all over." Theo said, with a grin.

"Shut up, you arse." Draco growled. He stalked across the room, pushed the door open and stepped into the kitchen. She was standing at the counter, looking out the window. She was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Looking at her now, he wondered why he had ever looked at those other women. He had fallen in love with her at sixteen. And she had held his heart ever since. Merlin, he was an idiot! His father was right, he had thrown away the best thing that could have ever happened to him.

"Why are you here, Draco?" She asked, softly.

"You didn't respond to my letter." He said just as quietly.

She turned away from the window to face him. "It's been five months since I received that letter. It's been almost a year since I left London. If I had wanted to contact you, I knew where you were."

She waited but he didn't say anything. "Draco, why did you really come here?"

He hesitated, then said, "I love you. I came here...because I love you. And I'm sorry, for everything. The lies, the women, the things I said to hurt you that I didn't mean. I have no right to expect your forgiveness but I want it. I want you. I want you to come back with me. I want the chance to earn your love again, earn your trust. I know what I'm asking, and I know you don't trust me. You haven't had a reason to trust me in a very long time. We can take as long as you need. Years if that's what you want. Just...I need you in my life again. I have missed you so much. Please, say you'll give me a chance." His voice had dropped to almost a whisper. She looked up and there were tears in his eyes now. She had never seen Draco in tears.

She felt something in her heart give. Maybe it was the wall she had been trying to build for almost a year. She took a step toward him, then another. Then she was in his arms for the first time in so very long. And it felt right. He held her tight to his chest, and she could feel his heart beat against her cheek. He felt like home. Safe and warm and loved.