AN1: Here's the deal, guys: life is hectic and I am incredibly sorry for the wait. I know that I said that I would try my hardest to never let the wait be longer than a month and I failed. But, honestly, this is the first time that I've been on my computer for fun in a while.

So, I am truly sorry for the wait, and I WILL get the next chapter out quickly! My huge project has been turned in today which frees up my time and creative ability.

Disclaimer: We've been through this sixty-six times before this. I think that the message should have sunk in. I do not have any claim to Harry Potter universe.

Hermione hummed softly to herself over the friendly sizzling sound of a frying pan and the hearty smell of lunch cooking. It was a relaxing day. She had no work to catch up on, nothing she needed to buy, and no specific plans. It was going to be a Hermione Day. She was just going to read a new book and watch her favorite shows on the telly.

An eagle owl she knew quite well flew in her window and deposited a letter on the table. She turned the oven on low heat and wiped her hands on her apron before opening the parchment.

Hermione,

Thank you for yesterday. You always know how to brighten my day. I worked things out with Astoria and she too sends her regards.

You're a great friend and I don't know what I would do without you.

Yours,

Draco

Hermione wilted immediately. The little note was nice, and she was certainly glad that he sent it—she always liked hearing from him. But one word caught her eye more than others; it was as if it had been highlighted in neon orange and written in seven inch block letters: friend. Friend. But what else did I expect from him?

Her good mood instantly turned gray, she turned off the stove and set aside her food. She wasn't hungry anymore. Instead, she started on a letter to Draco; an honest one that would get her feelings out. But she wouldn't send it—the only purpose of even writing the letter was to vent. When finished, she addressed the letter to Draco and left it on the table, not thinking about how his owl was still perched on a chair at her table.

Hermione turned back and continued making her lunch. Eating food of some kind was an endeavor that best followed venting. After she ate, she went to move the letter into the box where her journal was—that was where she kept all of her items like that. But when she checked the table, she was dismayed to find that the letter was no longer in the place where she had thought she left it.

"Where did it go?" Hermione searched her flat in a panic. "Did I move it and just not remember?"

Her eyes caught on the box of owl treats that she had gotten out to feed Tolstoy and her stomach sank. "Oh no." At that point, it was too late, the letter was probably on its way to Draco and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

"Bugger!"

xXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXx

Tolstoy, Draco's favorite eagle owl, flew in the window of his study with a note in his beak. Mildly surprised that Hermione had responded, he opened it. His eyes quickly scanned the page.

Draco--

I thought that I could handle this, but I can't. Every time you call me a friend, it's like a tiny needle being pushed into my heart. Not because I don't want to be your friend, that will never be the case—I value your companionship more than you will ever know. It's just that I'm tired of being only friends with you, Draco. Especially when I know that we could be more.

This may seem strange, but I've always felt this way—I'm just good at concealing my feelings. It's getting harder than ever now and I just don't know what to do anymore. I've felt this way for so long and it is extremely difficult to act chipper when we are together as friends. You wouldn't believe how hard it is for me not to show that every time I see you I certainly would not mind shagging you until we were both senseless.

And, while I'm being honest, I have to say one more thing in this private letter of venting. I loathe Astoria. She isn't right for you. Call me biased if you please, but I can see it. You two are not compatible. Think about how many times you've come to me when you guys fight and how often that is.

She's not right for you. Have you ever thought that maybe I am? That maybe you belong with me?

Love,

Hermione

Draco sat flabbergasted before jumping up and running out the door. He had to find her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXx

Hermione sat down on the familiar park bench and sighed, stubbornly refusing to let the tears fall. She was more independent than this! She didn't need Draco beside her to feel complete—she didn't need any guy beside her to feel complete. But it would be nice. She admitted ruefully to herself before allowing another exhale of breath to leave her mouth.

This wasn't working. Sitting on the bench only reminded her of Draco. Pensively she stared into the distance and wondered what would happen when he read the letter. She knew he would read it. That much was inevitable. Would he be disgusted and never want to talk to her again? Would he want to forget he ever read it and have them pretend that he never did? Would he return the feelings? Needless to say, she desperately hoped that it was the latter.

A person sat next to her on the bench and Hermione got up, not wanting to be in anybody's presence. Their hand reached up quickly and grabbed her arm.

"Hey! What are you playing a—" The angry question died in her throat. "Draco."

"Hermione."

The air around them was filled with tension. Hermione knew that Draco had read the letter and Draco was also aware of that fact.

"The letter was just a new venting technique," She tried without conviction in her voice. "It was just a test; I didn't really mean anything I said. Really."

Though it was an obvious lie, her words had erased some of the palpable awkwardness in the air.

"Really?"

Hermione didn't miss a beat. "Yes."

"Are you sure?"

She rolled her eyes. "Of course I'm sure. I wrote it, didn't I?"

"Yes, I suppose you did. So I guess you don't want to shag me now?" Draco asked with devious and knowing smirk on his face.

Hermione blushed prettily and chose not to answer him. He stood up from the bench and stepped closer; her breath caught in her throat.

"What about now?" His voice was husky, but his tone light and teasing.

She still didn't answer, not even daring to breathe. He brought his face closer and closer to hers. His warm breath mingled on her cheek. "It's okay," he whispered. Their lips were inches apart and still getting closer until he stopped, his mouth all but touching hers.

"You don't have to hide it anymore."

Hermione closed her eyes closed the distance between them by squarely pressing her lips to his in a searing kiss.

Finally.

AN2:Is this a better ending for you guys? I hope you liked it! Please review!!

Ten or more would be lovely. For each review, I will decrease the days between updates. How's that?

What'd you all think of New Moon? Have you seen it? Are you excited for it? I saw it, and I must say, though it got eh-ish reviews, I adored it! It followed the book pretty well, and it was actually entertaining. I just have two complaints. Jacob needs to remove his shirt way more and Bella needs to stop being such a beezy to him!!! Seriously.