To my Gryffindor Princess,
I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm so, so sorry.
It's the day before my task and I'm writing this, hoping to explain everything. Maybe something in here can justify what I'm doing but probably not. I really am sorry.
I'm sorry for calling you a Mudblood. You are the purest, bravest and smartest person I know and I was wrong about everything I said. In second year, when I first called you . . . that word, I could see the hurt in your eyes. I wanted to take it back, even then. But I didn't. But still you held together. You didn't break down, you didn't lash out. You stood strong against me, even though I would have deserved everything you could have said or done to me in that moment. I definitely deserved that punch in third year. Honestly, I deserved more. The only thing I don't deserve is you, after everything I've done.
Remember when we danced in fourth year after your fight with Weasley? His exact words as you told me, I believe were, "You're fraternising with the enemy!" I wonder what he would say to you now if he knew about us? That night was the best night of my life. You looked beautiful then, radiant. The belle of the ball. You're too good for him Granger. I hope realise that.
I'm sorry that I have to do this but if I don't he'll kill me. He'll kill my mum. You have to understand. I know you're disappointed. I know you wanted me to go to Dumbledore, but I can't. I'm sorry.
I know when you're reading this, you'll be getting ready to leave with Potter and Weasley. Keep them alive, Granger. Potter's the only one who can end this war. He's our only hope.
I love you Hermione Granger. I always have. When all of this is done, when the war is over, I'll come back to you, if you still want me. I'll always come back.
I love you. I miss you. Stay safe.
Your Slytherin Prince,
Draco Malfoy