AN: I'm so glad you guys like this... *glomp*
Disclaimer: "Good morning Ms. Rowling! May Draco please come out and play?"
*Oh, and the haiku's mine. Same with the plot. The songs used are as follows: Friend of Mine was performed (I don't know if she wrote it) by the excellent Lea Salonga. Gunning Down Romance was written and performed by Savage Garden, and the song was also used as a another songfic of mine.
Dedications at the bottom.
Chapter Eight: Unsent [2]
I sit and listen
To the scritch - scratch - scribble of
the quill's silent tongue
- Original Haiku
Harry sat at his desk, watching in fascination as a spot on his desk began to shine blurrily, and a distinct shape of a bulky envelope began to take place. He waited a few more minutes for the magic to wear off, knowing very well what would happen if he became impatient and grabbed the letter while it was still crackling.
"Harry! What in bloody hell happened to your hand?!"
"Shut up, Ron. I grabbed Hermione's letter before it fully Located."
"Ah... excited to get to the contents, I see."
*through gritted teeth* "Shut. Up."
"Okay, okay... come on, let's get you to a mediwizard."
Harry picked up the letter, smiling in expectation.
I've loved you for so long, you are a friend of mine
He slit it open and three letters fell out, each addressed to Ron, Parvati and him. His was written in red ink, and he noted this with misplaced satisfaction. Setting aside the two other letters, he opened his and began to read.
I know this is how it's going to be
As he did, the smile faded off his face, and his emerald eyes darkened into forest green. "What is she talking about?" he whispered. He set the letter down, pushing his glasses up his nose and looking out his window. He fingered the tall stack of Successful Re-Location Letters on his desk, one for each letter he had sent Hermione since she had left for her Paladin duty.
I've loved you then and I love you still, you're a friend of mine
In three months… sixty letters. Each letter equal to two hours of grueling incantations and Protection spells. Each letter equal to one reply from Hermione, short, but so very sweet.
And babe, is this all we ever could be?
Harry picked up his quill and dipped it in the special red ink that he used for Hermione's letters alone.
Dear Hermione...
I miss having you around the house. You and your stacks of books, your knowledge about simple, everyday things...
You've told me things I've never known
Would you believe, that ever since you left, the quality of the food, conversation, and everyday life here has been... degrading? We miss you so much.
I've shown you love you've never shown
I miss you so much. I really wish you would take a little break and come visit us. Days have been empty without you, and I've been missing you so much it's like a permanent ache.
Sure, Ron's company, and Parvati's okay... but you're Hermione. My Hermione. The Hermione.
But then again
When you cry
I'm always at your side
I hope Malfoy's been treating you well. Don't forget that we're always here for you no matter what. All you need is to write us back, tell us if he isn't treating you well, if he's still the arrogant bastard he really is.
He doesn't deserve you, Hermione. He needs you, yes... but that's for his own selfish needs.
We... no... I need you, because you're my smile.
You tell me about the love you had
And I listen very eagerly
But deep inside you never see
This feeling of emptiness
It makes me feel sad
I've been reading between the lines of your letters, and I noticed that you talk often about him. What is he to you but a mere duty? A job? Something that needs to be protected, but can offer you nothing in return?
And Hermione... what are you to him? Nothing. You know how a Malfoy's mind works... exploit your slaves until they can serve you no more, then get rid of them the most horrible way possible.
That's what you are to him, nothing more than a slave... and I hate the fact that you seem to be falling for him.
I love you, Hermione...
Harry
Harry glanced at his letter and sealed it up, preparing himself for the two-hour long process of Pre-Locating the letter to Hermione. The only love of his life.
~*~
Draco watched disinterestedly as an envelope began to shimmer on his desk. His dusky eyes flickered over the familiar, messy script on the front.
To Miss Hermione Granger
From Mr. Harry Potter
Marked: Confidential
Draco chuckled dryly and waited for the magic to wear off. Finally, he picked up the heavy letter in his hands, raising an eyebrow coolly.
He stared down at it.
And finally.
"What the hell."
And he slit it open.
~*~
"Draco!"
"What?"
His voice was muffled through the heavy door separating them. Hermione knocked on it once more. "Have any letters arrived for me?"
Footsteps. And the door swung open. Draco stood there, all beautiful pale five feet, nine inches of him, looking down at her coolly.
"From your boyfriend? No."
Hermione frowned, but looked slightly crestfallen. "Really?" Draco smirked, not unkindly, though. "Oh, what's the matter? Is he off cavorting with some cheap veela? Loving girlfriend worried?" Hermione snapped.
"Just because you don't have anyone of your own to care about, and who cares for you too, doesn't mean you have to destroy other people's relationships!"
She stalked off down the hall. Draco breathed in deeply then called after her "How do you know he cares for you? Has he even replied to all those love letters you've been sending him every other day?"
Hermuione whirled around. "My love life is none of your business!" she shouted, but she was speaking to a slammed door.
~*~
Draco glanced at the piles of parchment scattered on his desk with a blank eye. He stood up and walked over to them, eyes flickering from one letter to another, catching scrawled phrases here and there.
"Dearest Hermione..."
"come home..."
"Ron's fine..."
"That Malfoy git..."
"... he's a bastard..."
"...useless..."
"he'll just... hurt you..."
"never... love you... way... I do"
"Love, Harry."
"Love always, Harry..."
"I love you..."
"he doesn't... never will..."
Draco stood over the letters, dating back months. He picked one up, and lazily held it to the flickering flame of his candle, taking pleasure in the way it curled up into black ashes, Harry's words of endearment reduced to nothing but black smudges.
A whisper in the darkened room.
"Incendio."
Flickers of green flame, and the letters were no more.
"Potter..." his tone was soft, and mocking, slightly hurt. "That hurt."
~*~
