Dear Hermione,
I'll probably not send this to you. In fact, I'll probably not send this to anyone. It's probably going to be lost in my collection of papers, rotting away while I go find another woman. It'll probably get thrown away sometime. It'll probably burn. So, Hermione, expect to not get this letter that I'm writing now.
But anyways.
What I wanted to say is that I love you. I'm not really good with my emotions verbally or physically, so the only way I can express it is writing. That being said, I think the letter is the best way to express it. Not a diary entry, or a simple note (both so petty); no, the best way to express it is a letter. It's more direct, more open, and most of all, most formal. But I think I'm abandoning that expectation when I stated that I love you up there, did I?
So, anyways. I do love you. I'm sorry that you're surprised (you probably are) and are probably thinking, "Why would a Slytherin be in love me? Especially since he called me a mudblood." Well, yes, he did, but only because he didn't know what he wanted. I apologize for this. Damn, I apologize for everything. The taunting and the name-callings and all that stuff. Yeah, I do sound like a drip. I apologize for that too.
I know you aren't going to love me back. It's impossible. I mean, you got Weasley and Potter and gang, so that gives you no room at all. They're going to squelch it right out of you. Why do I even bother?
Yeah, why do I?
Well, because you're pretty. Not in the traditional way, but in a way no one can understand but me and maybe Weasley. I guess the prettiness came later, maybe because of your smile. I miss your buck teeth, and almost wish I hadn't hexed back in forth year, so I could still see them again. No, that wasn't it. Maybe your way of going about things? Always in the library, looking something up. That impressed me. No, that wasn't it either, it was your way of speaking that came first. Always with a slight lisp. That wasn't it, it was your confidence. Your dress. Your hair. Your compassion. Your voice. Your touch. Your impatience.
No, I remember. It was the way you looked at Weasley, and I wished someone would look at me that way.
And there you were.
Goyle's coming back now. I guess I should wrap things up. So, Hermione, if you ever get this message, know that I care about you. I should have said it sooner, when you weren't on the market and dating anyone at the time. But now that I have, I realized that I don't want to let you go. I don't want anyone to have you but me. I want you safe.
But please, dear god, don't ever get this.
Sincerely,
Draco Malfoy.