AN: Again, thank you so much for reading! I just really hope everyone is enjoying it so far! This is really my first fic like this one so if you have ideas/feedback please let me know! I don't own any of the characters, unfortunatly :(
...
The Slytherin boy and Gryffindor girl sat in the center of the large dark green room in front of an old parchment. Draco wrote every word with careful concideration of what Hermione had thought. After all, she had been and still was, the smartest girl in the school.
"Merlin, Draco, have you forgotten how to spell!?" She took the quill and corrected his letter once again. Draco smirked.
"Not all of us have the leisure of reading all day," he said. Hermioned looked sideways and him and laughed.
"Reading?! I do far more than that, Professor," she said laughing and making even the dark man smile.
"I do really hate it," Draco said after a few quiet minutes of writing.
"Hate what?" Hermione asked taking the quill back and editing another one of his mistakes.
"I hate being call 'Professor'," he said with a small smile, "it makes me feel old."
"Gee, thanks, Malfoy," Hermione bantered. "If you're old than I'm old. And I am not old."
"Whatever you say, Granger," he said taking the quill back. "Also, I would never used those words," he pointed out. "I would never say that 'I only wished I could have her'. It's suppose to be a kind letter, not a possesive one." Hermione looked down at the paper and read it over once again. She was somewhat surprised by how exact Draco was about the love letter. He really cared for this girl. Once again, another ping hit her in the chest. She quietly changed her edit and paused.
"So were you ever mad at me?"
"For what?"
"Punching you in the face?" Draco was taken aback by the girl's bluntness.
"Umm, not really. I mean at first, but it doesn't really matter. Don't you think I kinda deserved it?"
"Well, obviously, otherwise I wouldn't have done it."
"So, it's fine," he gave Hermione a small smirk. "Don't you think that we both did some dumb things as children?"
"Yeah, I guess we were all just children trying to be older then we were. I can hardly even remember the people I used to hate. I only remember the things that actually impacted me."
"Forgive the child I once was," Draco said glancing at the scars on Hermione's arm.
"We were only children, Draco, we only did what we thought was right. Both of us. You followed what your father told you was right, there is nothing wrong with that-"
"Except for the fact that he was a death eather."
"Even so, you didn't understand. You can't spend your whole life sorry for the things you should have done."
"You're right."
...
Hermione sat with Draco watching the snow fall out his giant window and helping him with his aweful grammer. She began to wonder if he had learned anything at all! As the day went on the Gryffindor became unaware how late it was getting. Eventually the world outside the Manor was black and inside the giant house it was freezing. Part of Hermione wanted so badly to lie in the darkness with her new friend and talk until the sun came up, but something about this girl was wrong.
"I should leave," Hermione said suddenly.
"You don't have to," Draco said quietly. "If you'd like you can sleep here..."
"No, no, I should really get home."
"Hermione, it's nearly four in the morning, just sleep in my bed, I'll take the couch." She was instantly surprised that the formerly spoiled boy was offering to sleep on the couch for her.
"Thank you."
"Of course," he said standing up. "I'll see you in the morning."
...
Hermione found herself in the dark room surround with Draco's green and black sheets. Never in one hundred years did she think that she would be lying in Draco Malfoy's bed. Yet, something in her was lonely and sad. She couldn't believe that he had found someone that he cared about. The letter they had written together was beautiful and any girl who would get it would be a lucky girl. He had certainly become a charming and caring man.
Draco lied on the couch with a wonderful but aweful feeling in his stomach. Just up the stairs was a beautiful girl. A beautiful, wonderful girl. He rolled over on the sofa and closed his eyes. He made a mental note to rewrite the letter in the morning to make it look better.
...
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