Hello!

I'm back with a new fic this time!
It's a Draco/Hermione!

I know there are gazillion Dramione's out there, but what to do? They make a couple with which several plots can be dished out!

And this plot just came to me one day while I was in the shower. Like all other ideas ;)

I don't know how it's going to go but I do know that it's going to be a romance but one with some hurt and angst.

And the progression is going to be slow.

So for those who are expecting quick Dramione moments, I'm really really sorry to say that you will be disappointed with the speed, but if you do stick with it, then hopefully it won't be so bad!

I can tell you one thing though,
the eventual ending will be happy!

I'm a sucker for good endings!

Thanks for reading my rant and I sincerely hope you enjoy this fic!

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SUMMARY - A forbidden liaison. If it could even be called that. Just like the hatred between the Montague's and Capulet's. But this wasn't about families. More about blood purity. And age old prejudices. But unlike Romeo and Juliet, they didn't fight for their love. Until, they realised that the doubts were not due to external influences but were deep within them and it was safer to let go than to embrace.

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CHAPTER 1.

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Hermione Granger washed her hands painstakingly to remove any traces of the thick vile smelling potion that she had just smeared on the wounds of her patient.

2 owls were perched on her desk, waiting patiently till she was done and retrieved the letters meant for her.

She was familiar with Paris and Sinatra. And they with her. Many a letters had been exchanged via the two owls. And in the last 16 months alone, they probably had been going to and fro from their owners to her almost every week. Sometimes twice.

She sighed a resigned sigh and wiped her hands on the napkin hanging next to the basin.

Holding out a couple of biscuits for the owls, she petted them sweetly and took hold of her letters, expecting them to fly away after their job. But she knew they wouldn't. Not until she wrote a reply.

She sighed again.

That's how it had been for almost for a year.

The owls would not budge unless they had a reply from her.

Cursing their owners, she had tried everything to get rid of them without replying.

First she would try to always keep her windows shut.

But owls are mostly patient and dutiful creatures. Unless of course they are made to wait for long and then they can turn impatient. They will peck at the glass of the window till either the glass shatters or till the recipient gets fed up and finally let's them in.

That had been tried and she had naturally failed.

Then she tried to bribe them with multiple treats and tried shooing them off with wide arm gestures until she felt that she probably would fly off with so much role playing. But the owls remained where they were. Their feathers not ruffled in the least. Still waiting in a bored fashion for her to write out a reply.

Hermione could have sworn that Paris looked so bored that she actually was examining her talons like some bored socialite would look at her nails when irked.

She shook her head to get the image of that out of her mind. When one starts comparing owls to socialites, it's a sign that you have been cooped up alone for a long time without much human contact.

But well she did have human contact. She saw loads of patients daily. But that's what they all were. Just patients. Not friends. And that's how she would keep them. No getting close to any patient. Detachment would be best. Patients and people die every day. And if you're detached, their death does not come as a blow.

Paris and Sinatra had finished off their biscuits and were tapping on her desk by now.

So she did what trial and error had taught her. She gathered some parchment, held a quill over it as if she were writing something. She then folded the parchment and tied them to their legs each.

They may be intelligent creatures. But even they do not know whether the letter they are carrying has words or not.

Luckily they bought this farce and swooped out of her office immediately.

That's what she had been doing ever since she had figured this trick out.

She had received several letters in response and a couple of howlers, expressing rage and disappointment at this dirty trick. But what else could she have done? There was nothing she wanted to say. And those empty pieces of parchment conveyed exactly that, Nothing.

But nothing stopped her from reading the letters. She may not have met the senders in a long time, but their letters were nice to read. She hated to admit that, but she was not averse to getting news or information. Only, she didn't care much for imparting anything.

Looking at her watch, she still had an hour till her next shift started. So she settled with the letter that Sinatra had got and a cup of tea and some biscuits.

She knew that like the others, this would be emotionally draining. So better to eat something to keep up her physical strength.

Dear Hermione,
I know that Sinatra is going to come back with an empty parchment.
Yet I write with the hope that he comes back with a reply from you.
One that consists of words and not silence.
Although your silence speaks volumes always, it would be nice to really hear from you.
But at least receiving that empty piece paper gives Harry and me the hope that you are receiving our letters.
Though I have no indication whether you actually read them or not.
I really hope you do. The Hermione I know will never leave a chance to read anything. Even if she doesn't reply.
So with the hope that you really are reading this, I want to share a bit of news with you.
I wish I could personally tell you, but this form should suffice for now.
I'M PREGNANT!
Finally. After trying for so long, Hermione ! It's finally happened.
Harry's happiness knows no bounds. Until he thinks of his two best friends who were always beside him.
He lost one due to the cruelty of fate. And the other as a direct consequence of that.
He really misses you both, Hermione. Dearly.
His happiness is marred by the thoughts that his best friend isn't there anymore to be the Godfather of his first born. And his other best friend may not want to be the Godmother.
But I know Hermione; I know that you would never refuse.
We are going to have a little boy, Hermione. A little boy! And we are going to name him Ronald James.
In memory of the one we miss every day.
This is not a letter to invoke guilt, but one to just share our good news with you.
You are the first person we have told.
Even mum doesn't know yet, imagine!
I know I'm going to get an empty parchment but I'll always be hoping for a real letter from you.
We love you so much Hermione.
I know you know that. But it won't stop me from telling you.
We miss you.
Please come back.
Give us our Hermione back.
Give Ronald James the chance to know his Aunt Hermione.
Please.

Love always,
Harry and Ginny.

Hermione was crying by the time she finished the letter.

She missed Harry dearly. She loved him very much and Ginny had shared such joyous news! She almost regretted not replying.

A Little Potter was coming into the world. And she couldn't be happier. And they were going to name him after Ron.

A fresh wave of tears started and she sat there, silently letting them trail a path across her pale cheeks and terminating into her robes.

She missed them too. And loved them. But she wasn't ready to go back yet. She could not bear to meet them yet. They all would remind her of Ron. And she was not ready for that yet.

But some day she would be. And that day little Ronald James would meet his Godmother.

Wiping her dried tears, she placed Ginny's letter under a paper weight and went to retrieve the letter Paris had got.

She probably would need more energy to read this letter. It was sure to be harsher.

She opened the letter, to be welcomed by the personal letterhead logo that she was very familiar with, which belonged to Draco Malfoy.

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So that's it.

The first chapter.

I know many things are not clear but hopefully as the chapter's progress, it will clear itself.

Thank you for reading!

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