It's that time of the year again. When she goes into her room and locks herself in there for the day. No one knows exactly what it is she does in there. No one even knows why she goes in there the one day out of every year for the past 11 years.

Well they know why, but not really.

After all, she couldn't have loved the enemy, could she?

They all refused to believe it, even though all her actions indicated she did.

He had died this day 11 years ago.

But still, it had to be something else, right?

They would have been surprised had they known what it was she did.

First, she took out her bottle of malt whiskey and poured herself a shot which she then promptly swallowed.

After that, she went to her closet and took out the shirt he had left behind during their last night together, the only thing she had left of him. Wrapped in that precious shirt, she laid on her bed and let the tears come.

Once she had cried herself out, she stared at the ceiling and thought about everything they had done together.

Their secret meetings in hidden places.

Their laughter as they discovered new things about each other.

Their first kiss.

The first time they made love.

Their plans for the future.

Their quiet desperation as his graduation inched nearer.

Their vows as he left her alone.

After all that reminiscing, she returned to her desk and poured herself another shot, which she quickly downed.

As soon as that was done, she unlocked her secret drawer and took out a sheet of parchment as well as her quill and ink.

Then she wrote him letter.

Draco,

I love you. I just wanted to let you know even though I know you always thought they were meaningless words. But they aren't and I love you. Nothing has ever been so true to me before. Sometimes I think about what might have been. Then I laugh because I know you'd just yell at me for having regrets. No regrets, you always used to say. And I'd happily agree just to get you to kiss me again. I miss them. Your kisses.

I wonder if you're happy where you are. I know I'm not happy because I'm not where you are. Sometimes… Well life goes on, I suppose. I own a dress shop now. I opened just last year. Madame Malkin's niece hates me, says I'm sore competition that she wishes she could just remove. You always thought I could do it, even when I didn't. I wanted to thank you for that. For your faith.

Ron and Hermione just had another girl. I suppose you aren't too happy about their foisting another red-haired know-it-all on the world, but Draco, my new niece is incredibly adorable. I bet she could even melt your cold, sinister heart. After all, some things run in the family. Harry and Luna (Lovegood) are expecting a baby soon. I'm still amazed they got married last year. Can you believe it? Harry and Luna, what a pair. I wish… I miss you so badly, Draco.

I wish I could tell the world about what you did during the war. I know, I know, you don't want your name to go down next to Harrys, but it hurts so badly when people I love think of you badly. I wish they knew how honorable you are, how beautiful you are inside. I wish they knew you like I did. I know I have too many wishes. You'd probably scoff if you knew them all, because all of them are impossible and you always said not to wish for the impossible. That it'd just tire me out. I'm so tired. So tired of life, of living, of trying to be happy. I just want to be where you are. I wish… there I go again, wishing.

You're probably thinking I should have moved on by now. That I should have forgotten what you were to me, after all, it was 11 years since the last time I saw you. But its not true, Draco. I see you every night in my dreams. In them, you're smiling and we're happy again. Sometimes we're at Hogwarts, in our special, hidden room. Other times, we in the Inverted tower where you and I had our first kiss. I want to go back to those days and never leave them. I want to be able to live in my dreams. I suppose you think that's a foolish desire, but its still something I want with all my heart.

I love you so much, Draco, and sometimes I miss you until I think I'll die from my loneliness. I wish… well you know what it is I wish. I'll always love you.

Ginny

No regrets

Then, after she writes the letter. She folds it up carefully, opens the drawer, and puts that newest letter in front of all the past 11 letters. She sighs, straightens in her chair and pours herself another drink. Once she has drunken it as quickly as the previous two, she stands and walks to her bed where she lays down, still wrapped in his scented shirt, and sleeps.

But more importantly, she dreams.