Letter Number 4

June 10th 1998, Malfoy Manor

Hermione,

I know I know it's been awhile since I last wrote you. I'm not going to apologize for that because that's just how I am. Deal with it.

So my mother is speaking a little less of you now, she only mentions you every 5th minute instead of every 2nd. That's a nice improvement. I don't think she'll totally give it up before I've spend some time with you. She thinks it's great that I'm sending you these letters; although she keeps telling me to be less harsh (yeah, like that could happen?), but she won't ease up before I've spend some 'quality time' alone with you. You know, face to face. But I don't see that happening anytime soon, so don't drop your knickers. Or perhaps I'll see you just to get her to shut up.

Merlin, imagine how awkward it would be if we were to spend time together. You would be sitting there and believe that you have feelings for me and I would be totally embarrassed because you know so many of my dreams and secrets. You not have told anyone about the things I'm writing to you. Especially not to Weasley or Potter. They wouldn't understand, you've made that quite clear yourself. Or maybe not. I mean you said that Potter was okay with your 'feelings' even though he called you naïve (again, I second that even if I never thought I would be agreeing with Potty). Perhaps he would kind of understand. But still, this is between you and me and no one else (okay, perhaps my mother has some part in this but I'm not thrilled about that!).

But really, imagine sitting across from me knowing that I know all these little private things about you. Don't tell me you wouldn't feel awkward. Also since we've never really been alone together. We've never tried to be civil with each other. Don't you think it would be weird? I sure as Hell think it would.

That's also why I don't think we'll be together when we're at Hogwarts. It would simply be too weird. Besides you have all your own friends. They would never accept me like you have. They would ridicule me and torment me until I was forced to leave you alone. And don't try to stick up for them, saying that they could never do a thing like that. I know them, even though I know a side of them that you rarely see. The anger and resentment goes both ways Granger and you know it. With your brain how could you not? They like me just as little as I like them and that's the end of it. Perhaps you two sidekicks have been able to forget and forgive, but I don't think the same would go for the others. You are like the mascot of the Gryffindors and I'm the mascot of the Slytherins. As a rule we aren't supposed to interact – on any level.

You know, the real reason why I wanted to write you was to tell you about something that happened to me. I was walking home from St. Mungo's with my mother when a little girl suddenly came up to me. She must have been about 8 years old not much older anyway. Well, she came up to me on the street and stopped me. She didn't say anything she looked at me and smiled. You know me, I couldn't put up with that forever and I fear that I might have gotten a bit rude when I told her to spill her guts. And of course that was going to come back to haunt me since the girl, when she first started talking, wouldn't shut up again. She went on and on about how I had saved her hero, The-Boy-That-Still-Comes-Back-To-Bite-Me-In-The-Arse, and how grateful she was. At one point she even called me a hero. So I guess I owe you yet another apology, Granger. You were right, I am considered somewhat of a hero. I'm sorry (you know you're really throwing my total all out of place. I used to give one apology a year and then you came along).

It's not like I want to be a hero or anything, but when you for once do a right thing, you want to be acknowledged for it. So the girl might have annoyed the living crap out of me (she actually reminded me about you a little) but it was nice to hear when she called me a hero. You should have seen my mother. She got tears in her eyes and I swear if that little girl's mother hadn't taken her away and scolded her for taking my time, my mother would have hugged her and never let her go.

It actually got me wondering why I'm an alone child. It's obvious that my mother likes children. She constantly talks about little Teddy when she comes home from visiting you (of course this is in between talking about you and calling me stupid). But the answer is actually quite simple. My mother might love children but my father does not. Whenever mother starts talking about Teddy when my father is in the room he gets up and leaves. It doesn't really matter though. I'm not big on children either. Especially babies. And preteens. And teens. You know, I don't like children at all. they are noisy, nosy and clingy, three things I hate. And besides that they are messy and attention-needy. I don't know how you can stand living with a baby. It would drive me crazy. Yet another reason why I can't move in at Grimmauld Place.

Oh, about that. The healers say that in about a week I'll no longer need to come back to the Hospital and get more of the antidote. Then I'll be ready to take care of myself. So now I'm apartment-hunting. And don't ask me how it's going because it's not. There is absolutely nothing in London City. And I'll be damned if I have to live anywhere else. I found a little place in Godric's Hollow, but that really isn't a place where I wanna live. Too much Gryffindor spirit with Godric, Dumbledore and Potters. It wouldn't feel right for me to live there. So I choose London. Besides that's where everything happens. And no, it doesn't have anything to do with you. I don't care that you live in London.

Well, there really isn't anything else to say for today. I don't know when you can expect my next letter, but remember to breathe while you're waiting.

Draco

So… tell me what you're thinking. I crave all your wonderful thoughts!