YOU DIDN'T MEAN TO • PANSMIONE

( FIFTEEN! )

New Year was tapping at the window when Hermione finally received a letter from Pansy. The two of them hadn't spoken since that awful last day, and Hermione could feel the tension drawn between them like a line of fire. If she thought about the other girl for too long, it started to burn her. Yet she could still taste Pansy's lips on hers, and despite herself, and the depth of her anger, she longed to kiss her again. This was usually followed by a period of self-loathing and guilt, and writing several letters to Ginny which she never sent.

Pansy had seemingly ruined her friendship with one of her closest friends, simply by being with her, and she like a thorn stuck deep in Hermione's soul. But occasionally she became a rose, and Hermione just had to wait for those moments and she would feel good again. Everything would turn out fine when they returned to school, and she could see Ginny face to face. Everything would be fine.

Shakily, she pulled the creamy envelope towards her. The paper was expensive, as was everything Pansy owned. The girl didn't seem to realise it, but there was an aura of money that perpetually hung around her, in her clothes, in the way she spoke, and in the way she touched things. Money brought a kind of cold elegance, a shroud of indifference one could never quite shake off, and Pansy embodied it completely.

Hermione ripped open the envelope, breaking the seal and tearing the paper into an ugly, harsh line. The letter was folded in half, and she could see the shadow of words scattered across the page. Untidy writing, the one thing Pansy struggled to control.

Quickly, Hermione unfolded the paper, and her eyes began to scan the words, taking nothing in in her haste. She couldn't even begin to form an idea of what Pansy was saying, but she felt a sense of relief when she'd read the letter once through - the hardest part was over. Now she just had to understand it.

My dearest Hermione,

I know we parted on bad terms (although I did apologise! I truly did! It's Ginny's fault if she hasn't forgiven me!), and that it seems I have been avoiding all contact with you. The truth is, I have been trying to write this letter since I left (if I could show you the failed attempts I would), and I think this is the best it is going to be. Look, I'm really sorry that Ginny was so upset. If I could take back those moments, I would, because I know it hurt you. But I can't. So the best thing I can do is tell you that I love you, and I really do care about you. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry. Please, please, please forgive me!

Lots of love,

Pansy

xxxxxxx

Pansy...loved her? Hermione's lungs constricted, and she felt a warmth build in her chest, consuming her whole. The rest of the letter felt completely irrelevant; those words seemed to glow on the page like a flame, like a small sun, and she wanted to dance. Love. Love! Oh, how it felt to be adored by someone, to be cherished and cared for and wanted. It was so...beautiful.

Hastily, she grabbed a biro from the pen pot perched at the back of her desk, and a piece of printer paper. For a moment, she hesitated. These things were so...muggle. It felt weird to send a letter to Pansy in such a way, so outside of the world they inhabited, yet Hermione also didn't want to hide the part of herself that had raised and made her the way she was. Pansy loved her. This was fine.

The real dilemma arrived when she sat down to actually write. What could she say in response that didn't make her sound like a lovesick child? But if she didn't reply, would Pansy think she was still angry? Tapping the pen against the table, she considered. Perhaps Pansy didn't need a letter. There were only a few days until school recommenced, after all, and Hermione would be able to see her face to face, and speak to her, and words like these were far better unrehearsed, right? She couldn't think.