Dramione Short Stories

Letters

  It was the summer in between fifth and sixth year. Draco lay on the couch on his bedroom staring out the window in hopes the downpour of rain outside would calm his mind. In his hands was a week old letter that he just couldn't stop rereading. It read...

Dear Draco,
  I've tried to ignore you. I've tried to stop writing. To be honest I haven't stopped writing, I've just stopped sending the letters. But this one I think had to get to you somehow.
  I know you said you hate me. You said you can't stand the thought of me. But after what happened the past two years I just can't believe that's true. If you're trying to protect me from your parents, or something even bigger... you don't need to. Draco I don't think you understand how big of a risk I would take to see you again.
  If I got it all wrong, and you genuinely are sick of me, ignore this. Don't reply. But if there's even a chance that the hatred is a lie, send something back. A time or a place where we could meet. Even just a blank piece of parchment with your name on it to show me you care. I hope this letter reaches you.

                                     Love,
                                       Hermione

  Draco has been struggling to process this letter all week. He didn't know what to do. Deep down he knew he wanted to respond. Acting like he hated Hermione was paining him to extreme levels. But he was worried. He was worried about what his parents might do to her if they found out they were together. He also knew what was to come within the next year and was worried about her safety. She couldn't be that close to him when he who must not be named was always around.
  He sat up in exasperation. He could at least write a response and decide whether to send it or not. He grabbed some parchment and ink and quill off of his desk.
 
Dear Hermione,
  You are not wrong in your assumptions. Meet me at 9 pm on Tuesday at the park in your neighborhood.
                                 Yours Always,
                                    D

Could he send this? He thought he had to. He had to. He owed that much to her. To at least explain his reasoning. He put the letter in an envelope and sealed it. Before he could change his mind his owl had snatched it out of his hand in flew off. What happened now was out of his control. He just had to will himself to show up.

A/N: this is really short but part 2 will come within the next week :)