A/N: Again, just one of those random one-shots that pop into my mind during the night! Read, enjoy and review!

The expanse of wood that stretched out before me, blocking my path, was a most welcome obstacle, even though I knew it would have to be removed- and soon. I was scared of what I would find behind the door: what if I was wrong? What if I wasn't needed here? But the name engraved into the mahogany seemed to gleam with a light of its own, the way she always glowed and called out to me. It seemed eerie in the darkness of the hallway, but as I brushed my fingers across the carved letters, the need within me grew. Suddenly, the urge was the strongest thing I felt, overpowering my fear, my hesitance and I couldn't stand here, not knowing, for a second longer.

The door slid open smoothly and noiselessly and, for a single, heart-stopping moment, I was certain there was something wrong- there was no way she could coexist with such an utter mess. She was always so tidy, so… finicky, about her possessions. But now there were clothes strewn across the bed and beige two-seater, crumpled pieces of parchment littering the dark green carpeting and a smashed ink bottle lay next to an upturned candle-stand at the foot of her bedside table.

But the panic was gone before it had set in properly as I spotted a figure silhouetted against the open window. Upon closer inspection, and with the aid of a gentle snore, I realized that she was asleep. Careful not to displace any of the various shirts and socks she'd seen fit to hurl around the room, I made my way across to the wooden desk at which she sat.

Here, the underlying woman that I knew existed was evident- the rows and rows of heavy, leather-bound volumes were neatly stacked, and as far as I could tell from a sweeping glance, according to subject. A ghost of a smirk inhabited my lips before they turned down into a frown as I noticed the havoc she'd wreaked on them recently. There was yet another martyred bottle of ink, which had stained her hair, splayed all over the desk, entangled with some of the other few dozen rolls of parchment that were scattered in the nearby area. I picked one up and unfolded it, but only a few words were scrawled in a familiar handwriting, although it seemed like her hand had been shaking a great deal.

"Malfoy,

I don't know if you've heard, but Ron's…"

My heart jumped to my mouth as I saw my name on the parchment. I had been right to follow my instinct and check up on her. I doubted whether any of these other letters had made it much farther, but as I examined the table carefully, I saw, below her right hand, a piece of parchment that had not yet been destroyed. Slowly and gently, I slid it out and began to read. The writing was the elegant script I'd learned to expect from her, but there were blotches along the paper, where her words had been smudged by teardrops.

'Dear Draco,

I know that you may be shocked to receive a letter from me after so long, but I must say that I myself am surprised. I found myself sleepless for the past fortnight and, with Harry and Ginny away on their honeymoon, I can only think of you to give me comfort.

In all honesty, you are always the first name that pops into my mind, but I am always too afraid to approach you. At this point in time, I find myself in desperate need of the comfort and support that I know only you can provide.

As recently as a fortnight ago, I would have scoffed at someone who took the word "heartbreak" seriously. It seems such a pathetic and unsatisfactory term- how can your heart, an organ in your body, simply break? But now, two weeks later, I am, quite unhappily, wiser. I know that the nasty affair has not yet reached the media, but it is only a matter of time before there's a headline out in the Daily Prophet about how Hermione Granger, the perfect, "Golden Girl" of the wizarding world, has been unceremoniously dumped by her boyfriend of two years, the Chosen One's faithful side-kick, Ronald Weasley, who has eloped to Venice with his Hogwarts sweetheart, Lavender Brown. I can just see those words in print, with a photo and no doubt signed off by Rita Skeeter.

I know that have no right to dump this on you, not having even formally offered you my consolation for the loss of your wife, or your son. But what consolation is there for me to offer? I am sorry your marriage lasted such a short time, and that you never got a chance to know your best there is to say is that at least mother and son are together. I know it is a poor show to mention this two years after the events occurred, and I am truly sorry for not fulfilling my duties as a friend.

The truth, Draco, is that I was afraid. I was initially afraid of rejection, but having faced that once and knowing how it feels, I find that I can no longer stand not knowing if you would have rejected me. I ask nothing of you at present, except to respond, and to greet me as a friend.

I was afraid of Ron becoming suspicious. I was afraid he would be jealous, or ask unwanted questions. I was afraid that the world would hear of our history and bring it back to life to haunt me. A relationship between us at Hogwarts the very year after the war ended would have been pure media fodder, and I didn't want our past relationship to be polluted or ridiculed in such a way. I was afraid to think about you, because it hurt; but I felt guilty if I didn't, because I was afraid that I would lose the little I had left of you. In short, Draco, I was afraid of the way…"

And this is where it ended, whether it was because she planned to discard it, or whether it was because sleep had finally claimed her, I did not know. But I did what I had not dared to do in almost four years. I took a deep, steadying breath, and I looked at her.

And she looked right back at me.

Of her entire appearance- the slim, soft curves of her figure, the delicate shoulders engulfed by the perpetually tumbled, luscious brown curls, the long neck and slight chin, the high cheekbones and the smooth plain of her jaw, the wide, intellectual brow and the flawless skin, the delicate nose and the rosebud lips- I found her eyes, those dark, chocolate eyes- her most attractive feature. They were at the same time honest, but many-layered, deep and entrancing, innocent but tantalizing, knowing but mysterious, warm and friendly, and absolutely beautiful… The dark shadows encircling her eyes were a regular feature I was accustomed to since our days at Hogwarts and it did nothing to prevent the way I felt when they looked up at me with nothing short of wonder, if blended with uncertainty and astonishment.

Her lips barely moved as she spoke. 'Is… is this a dream? I shook my head and her hands leaped to her wild hair in a vain attempt to tame it- it was a stress-relief method, as I'd learned. Her eyes wandered to the parchment I held out to her, but she shook her head. 'But I don't remember sending it.'

'You didn't,' I said, surprised by the softness of my own voice. Her eyes questioned me. 'I don't need a letter to hear you call out to me.' Her eyes closed as I took her hand in mine and stroked it gently with my thumb. 'What were you afraid of?'

Her answer seemed almost automatic. 'I was afraid of the way you make me feel. I knew that if I saw you, met you, talked to you, even once, then I wouldn't be able to settle back into my normal life again.' Her eyes flew open in alarm as she realized what she had said, but I flashed the smirk I knew she couldn't resist.

'It's alright, love, I can't live without you anymore either.' Her cheeks flushed noticeably as she smiled, but it seemed slightly strained. I frowned. 'What's wrong?'

'It's just that I haven't smiled in a while,' she admitted sheepishly, her brows creased. 'It seems weird to.'

I chuckled lightly, stroking it soothingly and adoringly. She looked up at me imploringly. 'I'm sorry about Astoria.'

'Don't be,' I chided her quietly. 'I'm not sorry about that worthless, dim-witted Weasel.'

It was her turn to laugh, and it was a low, hoarse sound, as though she were out-of-practice. Maybe she hadn't been joking about the smiling thing. But my thoughts were promptly erased as she laid her head against my chest. 'Stay with me tonight?' she inquires in an almost timid voice.

'Your wish is my command,' I declared, and she led me by the hand to her bed. I kicked off my shoes and lay down next to her, where she curled up against me, sighing contentedly.

'I've missed you,' she whispered against my heartbeat.

'I've missed you too,' I said, rubbing small circles on the back of her neck.

Her breathing began to even out as I watched the scenery outside her widow. She had a spectacular view of a hillside, with a group of white spider lily bushes in full bloom on the bank of a thin, ribbon-like, shimmering river, whose babble could be heard faintly in the dead silence of the night.

'And Draco?'

'Yes?'

'I…I love you.'

I shiver ran down my spine, and the familiarity of the words struck me, even though I hadn't heard them in so long. I gazed down at the woman next to me, whose pale face was lit by the bluish moonlight filtering in through the window; from every orifice of her face radiated innocence and beauty. I realized that no view from any window in the world could compare to her magnificence, her exquisiteness. I brushed my lips against her forehead.

'As I love you.'

Awww, Draco and Hermione, right where they belong- together! You know the drill- just press the button, and I'll know what you thought! ^_^