A/N: Another one-shot for you. This time it's in Hermione's point of view. Inspired by Burn from the hit musical Hamilton. I own neither Harry Potter nor Hamilton, unfortunately.
Dear Draco,
Dear Malfoy,
Dear Mr. Malfoy,
Hermione crumpled up yet another piece of parchment and threw it to the side, haphazardly. The disorganization and untidiness plagued the back of her mind, but she was trying her best not to care. She had more pressing issues on her mind. Like how to owl Draco Malfoy. She had been trying to write to him for days now, but she just could not figure out how to start a letter. Dear Draco sounded too friendly, Dear Malfoy sounded too cold, and Dear Mr. Malfoy reminded her of his father.
Although, considering her situation, something resembling his father seemed rather fitting at the moment.
Draco had returned to Hogwarts this year more moody and brooding than ever. Hermione had chalked it up to normal teenage hormones and the fact that his parents were, well, his parents. However, it wasn't until she caught him rummaging through the Room of Requirement that she truly got suspicious. As the year wore on, Draco became increasingly distant from Hermione, and eventually stopped spending time wither her altogether. All those years of sneaking around and false promises of love flushed straight down the drain. So, Hermione took to spying.
At any given day of the week, you could find Draco toying endlessly with the Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirement. He skipped classes, free periods, quidditch events, even meals, and it was beginning to show. Draco Malfoy was wasting away, looked paler than ever, and had dark circles under his eyes, and hair that constantly fell limply into his eyes.
And then Hermione discovered why.
She finally got sick and tired of being ignored by Draco and confronted him about it in the Room of Requirement one day.
"Draco." Her voice came out as a quiet croak, and she cursed herself for how weak she sounded. It didn't matter anyway, though, because he ignored her as per usual. She was done with being ignored, however, and approached the ghostly figure of whom she once called the love of her life.
"Draco." She sounded more firm this time, but to no avail. Frustrated, she stormed over to him and grabbed him by his shoulder, almost recoiling at how bony it felt.
"Draco Malfoy, listen to me for Merlin's sake." She demanded.
Draco finally turned around, and despite his pallor and dark circles, there was a fire in his eyes that Hermione had never seen before. Fire, and fear, and sadness.
"What, Hermione? What could possibly be so important that you come here day in and day out trying to gain my attention? Merlin, you're just as pathetic as I thought."
"You- you knew-" Hermione stammered. How could he have known? She was sure to be careful and stay quiet.
"You're not as quiet as one might think Her-," Draco corrected himself, "Granger. Now tell me what it is that you want before I lose my patience." Draco crossed his arms and sneered at her.
Hermione was shocked. Draco was never this harsh with her in private. In public, sure. They both had appearances to keep up, but he was never this was in private. And he hadn't called her Granger in private since first year.
"I want to know why, Draco! I wasn't to know why you have cut everyone out of your life. Why you've cut me out of your life. Why you spend all of your time here with this stupid cabinet and why you look sicker and sicker every time I see you. Why are you so paranoid and why are you so cold. Why won't you talk to me? Damnit Draco, just talk to me!" Hermione's voice rose with every breath and she ended at a near-shout. She was out of breath and fighting back tears. All of her pent up emotions had exploded and she just wanted Draco to hold her again and tell her everything was going to be alright. But everything had changed this year, for reasons she didn't even know. However, she refused to let her self-cry. Not now. Not in front of this Draco.
He almost laughed at her. "Grow up Granger. We aren't children anymore. There are more important matters in life than sneaking around with some pathetic swot and making false promises. I don't owe you any explanations. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to work." Draco turned away.
Hermione was hurt. He couldn't mean all of these things that he's said. Could he? She thought he loved her. So she grabbed his wrist to pull him back to her, hoping for one more embrace. "Draco, I-"
"Get your hands off of me," Draco looked Hermione dead in the eye, "you filthy mudblood, before you get me dirty and I have to take precious time out of my day to shower." Draco spit the words out at her and yanked his arm away. In doing so, she ripped the sleeve of his sweater. There, on Draco's left arm, she found the source of all his wrong doings.
The silence was suffocating.
Hermione felt like she had been stabbed. She had no words for this pathetic excuse for a human being. Instead, she turned and walked away. She didn't run, she didn't cry, she just walked away.
"Hermione, wait-" Draco turned to run after her.
"Save it, Malfoy." Hermione didn't even bother to turn around as she exited the room, the door slamming behind her.
Hermione swiped away a tear that she caught rolling down her face as she relived her last encounter with Draco. She truly loved him and he broke her heart and now Dumbledore is dead. There was no doubt in Hermione mind that Draco had something to do with it. Some sort of initiation, she assumed.
Sighing, she finally sat down and pulled out yet another piece of parchment. Dipping her quill in ink, she wrote:
Draco Malfoy,
I have thought long and hard about what to say to you. I saved everything you've ever given me, scanned through every letter, and relived every memory. From the moment I first met you, I knew you were mine.
You said you loved me. You said forever. You said you were mine.
I thought you were mine.
So, I said I loved you. I said forever. I said you were mine. And I meant every word. But that's the difference between you and me. I'm genuine, and you just say what you can to serve what's in your best interest. I now know I was foolish, and you were just wasting my time.
Do you know what Harry said when he saw your first letter arrive? Well, after lecturing me for hours about how "you are Draco Malfoy" and you're a "Cowardly Ferret" and a "muggle hater" and how you couldn't be trusted, he realized that my opinion would not be swayed. So he said:
"Be careful with that one, 'Mione, he'll do what it takes to survive."
I should have listened to him before.
You see, every moment with you was a double edged sword that you ended up driving directly into my back. In private we could be together, but in public we had to hate each other. You claimed it was for the best, that it was to protect me, and I believed you. But now I'm not sure if this was for my good or yours?
You and your words, your actions flooded my sense. You sent my mind on overdrive every time I saw you, spoke to you, and touched you. The mystery and thrill of sneaking around was enough to keep me around, and I always took the insults we threw at each other as light hearted. Like an inside-joke. Except now, I believe I was at the wrong end of the inside jokes. Sometimes you words, your sentences in public would leave me feeling completely defenseless. Yet you could build me palaces and cathedrals out of your paragraphs that you sent me. But now we're here.
So, I'm re-reading the letters you owl'd me. I'm searching, scanning, scourging for answers in every line for some sort of signal or sign or anything that could tell me this wasn't real. But I can't find anything. You hid yourself so well. You really fooled me, Malfoy.
You took the mark and killed Dumbledore. You told the entire wizarding world how you pledged you allegiance to the Dark Lord. In clearing your name with you family, you have ruined our- you have ruined my life. Not only did you break me, but now everyone who knew about us ridicules me. All I receive are disdainful looks, "I told you so's", and accusations of sleeping with the enemy. Which, I suppose now is true.
Do you know what Harry said when he found out what you'd done? He said that you were an Icarus who had flown too close to the sun.
You and your obsession, your fixation with your legacy is so pretentious. Your actions border on senseless and you are always so damn paranoid of how everyone perceives you. You, you, you… Pompous Git.
I'm erasing myself from this narrative. Let future historians wonder how one of the Golden Trio heroes reacted when an infamous teenage death eater broke her heart. You have torn it all apart. So now, I am watching everything you ever gave me burn. Because no one, not you, not Ron, not Harry, not anyone. So, in return, they don't get to know what I said, either. I'm burning my memories and all of the "sweet" letters that could have redeemed you in the future. Don't even think of using my letters, because I will deny, deny, dent. I'll claim you feigned it all. So don't you dare.
You've forfeited any rights to me, to my heart, to my life.
I hope you burn.
Hermione Granger.
Hermione set down her quill and read over her letter again to ensure that there were no errors. Then, finally satisfied with her work, she charmed the letter to burn after Draco read it and sent it on its way. She was done wasting tears on Draco Malfoy.
