Bad Blood: A Dramione Fanfiction

Chapter Eleven

Draco

Sometimes when I'm alone, I like to write letters. Letters that the recipients will never read. Letters that are for the sole purpose of my own enlightenment. In them, I confide my feelings, things that I could never say to the people face-to-face. Even without sending them, these letters help ease my mind. The imaginary recipients vary. Some are written to my parents, some are written to my old friends. I have even written a couple to Dumbledore. But now, most are written to Hermione.

They're kept in the bottom left drawer of the desk in Hermione's and my common room, which is where I am now. It's very dark, for it is midnight. The only light in the room is being emitted from the fire in the fireplace. I should be tired, and in a way I am, but my recent nightmares have induced a sort of fear of sleep. Therefore, I reach into the top drawer of the desk and retrieve a piece of parchment and a quill. I place the parchment on the desk's surface and the quill in my hand and, with a deep breath, I begin to write.

Dear Hermione,

Greetings, love. I hope you're doing well.

Lately, I've been thinking about us quite a lot. About our past, the way things used to be, and I've come to a realization: My parents had imposed a great impact on me as a child. The most visible mark they left on me is on my left arm: the Dark Mark. It serves as a daily reminder of who I once was; especially of the way I treated you.

The truth is, as I just realized, I have always loved you. I've always admired your beauty, intelligence, bravery, and your desire to stand up for what you believe in. But I knew it could never work because of my parents and my destiny. So, with the intention of putting an insurmountable distance between us, I treated you awfully. And I did that so well for so long that even I couldn't recognize how I truly felt about you anymore.

Distancing myself from my past and drawing closer to you has been the best decision I've ever made. My time with you is what keeps me going. You're the light in the midst of darkness. I want to thank you, as I know that I have done numerous times, but it will never be enough. You have forgotten all of our past indifferences to help a lonely person like me. You have chosen to love me as well- which is beyond what I could have ever expected- and I know that decision is causing great amounts of trouble between you and your friends. And for that reason, I sometimes think that I should let you go, but I am too selfish to allow that.

I hate to keep secrets from you- my dreams, the person I saw in the window at Madam Puddifoot's- but I don't want you to worry about it. It's nothing to be anxious about, anyway. They're just dreams, and seeing my father was just my imagination. So, please, don't let it bother you.

These days with you have been the best. It may be a little too soon to say this, but I will anyway: I love you, Hermione. I always have and I always will.

Perpetually yours,

Draco.

It felt good to get all of that off of my chest. Perhaps someday I will actually send this to her; she needs to understand. But for now, I fold it up, and it joins the others in the bottom left drawer.

Now I am undeniably tired. I stand up and stretch out my arms. The grandfather clock by the fireplace says that it is 1:30 in the morning, which makes my eyelids feel even heavier. I have to sleep. I cannot dodge the dreams any longer. On the back of the couch, there is a blanket. I pull it off and bundle up in it. Once I close my eyes, it's hard to open them again, so I finally succumb to sleep.

* * *

My feet lead me down the concrete path. The only sound that breaks the eerie silence is the steady rush of water that resonates from a fountain in the distance. It's unusually dark, even for this late at night. Drops of dew glisten on the grass, adding just a touch of beauty to this unsettling atmosphere.