My dearest Ginny,

I am aware this letter may be far too late, that my chances of ever seeing you again, let alone holding you in my arms as I wish, are extremely slim if not nonexistent. But I have to tell you this Ginny, I have to let you know. If I did not... I could not live with myself if I never knew what could have been.

As I say this, however, I really do not know how to even begin. I have spent hours and hours writing draft upon draft; nothing ever seems to even come close to what I really want to say.

Ginny, our history is vast; it goes back for what seems like forever, in fact it almost is; it is almost our entire lives. I met you when I was just nine years old... you were only eight. Unfortunately, our families already knew of each other, we had already formed preconceived opinions and ideas. We had already formed a strong dislike, a hatred so ingrained in our souls it is a miracle we could ever overcome it. We struggled through years of fighting, physical and verbal; years of snide innuendos and hurtful insults. I do not know how to apologise for that. I find it so hard, today, when we have been through so much since; to believe those words ever came from my mouth.

I will never forget the first time we spoke, as equals. Do you remember it? On the Slope at school. It was dark and the sky was filled with the brightest stars. The moon was whole that night and it shined down upon our tentative, budding friendship. I was a cold hearted, arrogant and scared little boy Ginny, and yet you stuck by me and eventually, by sticking up for me, announced our unpredictable friendship to the entire school, students and faculty. I must admit, it was not as easy as it sounds. Coming from completely different backgrounds and social classes, having different values and morals, different friends and interests; we endured a lot of misgivings from the people around us which then affected the way we interacted with each other. And this went on for years.

I do not know whom to thank but I am more grateful then you will ever know that we didn't fall apart in those first uncertain years. I am even more grateful that we remained friends, in fact close friends, when we departed school and grew up, facing new challenges and adversities. Up until that fateful night not so long ago, we spoke, in some way or another, at least once a week. And now, I miss you, Ginny.

I know things have gotten complicated but we have done this before. I have long considered that night to be the best of my life.

You came to me, in tears, screaming and yelling insults before you collapsed into my arms. You didn't want to talk about it; you wanted to sleep and for days I let you do just that. I had not seen you in over a year, corresponding only by email and the occasional phone call. You were so different, I barely recognised you. I learnt later, from your brothers before you told me yourself, that some guy have roughed you up pretty bad. He'd mixed you with the wrong crowd, controlled your life and then shattered you when it wasn't convenient to have you in his life anymore. I promised myself, in that moment, to never, ever do that. Not only to you but to any girl I happened to become involved with. And I had been involved with quite a considerable amount, even at the tender and supposedly innocent age of twenty.

That's why I was so unsure when it happened. Most people expected it I think, but I never even saw it coming. As far as I was concerned, we were the best of friends and our relationship was purely platonic. I don't know if you were completely in your right mind or whether you may regret the decision you made but there must have been some reason you chose me to be your first; and I have doubts that it was because you felt anything serious for me.

Despite the heat and passion of that night, we moved on. It was an unspoken agreement between us that it would never happen again and we would go on as normal. That, however, did not happen. Unable to share everything with each other once more, as we had as best friends, we began to drift apart. One day you showed up on my doorstep, in much the same fashion you had several years previous, after that arsehole had beaten you to a pulp. And I brought you to the safest place I knew; my house in the country where I only ever spent a few weeks a year, at Christmas. But just as quickly as you had shown, you vanished. There was no trace of you, it was almost as if you had never been there; until you stormed into my apartment and made love to me as no other woman had ever done.

I don't know when I started to feel this way about you, Ginny, but I can't stop thinking about it... about you.

I love the way your eyes crinkle at the corners when you smile; I love your small, button nose and how, if something is really funny, you snort when you laugh. I love your passion for helping the poor and how you're willing to get up at the most ungodly hours to go and work in the soup kitchen or something similar. You are the most loving, compassionate, flamboyant and beautiful person I know, Ginny. I love so many things about you, little things that most people would never even notice; but most of all Ginny, I love you, just for being you.

I don't expect a reply to this letter and I don't have high hopes that I will ever see you again but I will never forget you, my love. You will always be on my mind.

I wish you all the best.

With lots of love,

Draco