Dramione One Shots

white walls

Draco,

If you are reading this, then I am dead, but I hope to Merlin that you never get this letter. Firstly, I just want to tell you that I love you, and I always will. You were my first and only love. Next, if I know you, you're probably blaming yourself for my death right now, and I need to tell you to stop that. Blaming yourself for something that you most likely had no control over is not healthy, and isn't going to do you any good. But the last thing that I want is for you to forget about me. Don't get hung up over someone who's gone. Find another witch who will make you happy, and give her a chance. I don't want to be the reason that you live a miserable life. So please, Draco, if you really love me, then let me go.

I love you, Draco,

Hermione

Draco sighed miserably while running his fingers through his unkempt blond hair, and stared at the white walls surrounding his room in the safe house; white walls that mocked him, reminded him of his emptiness, of his loss.

Sighing in silent mourning, he carefully folded the letter back up, and returned it to his pocket, where it had been for the last three hundred and sixty five days.

He had gone exactly one year without his bossy and insufferable witch, and it still hurt as if it were yesterday. He didn't care what she said; he couldn't move on.

He couldn't forget.

Three Hundred and Sixty-Six Days Earlier

"Draco, I have to go; you can't stop me."

But the defected Death Eater didn't release his grip on the witch's arm; he just stood there with a pleading look on his face. "Please, Hermione," he beseeched her. "I have a bad feeling about this one."

Hermione defiantly stood her ground, shooting him a firm glare. "You have a bad feeling about all of them. But if we don't fight back, the Death Eaters are going to break our defenses. You know it's true, Draco."

The blond wizard sighed in defeat, and released her. "I know, but... I just don't want you getting hurt."

The bushy-haired witch's gaze softened. "Draco, love, I get hurt all the time; this fight won't be any different. I can defend myself. You know that."

"But one of these days, you're going to be outmatched," he argued. "Experienced death eaters won't give up so easily, and they will kill you. Don't you remember Bellatrix Lestrange? You were within an inch of your life the last time you-"

"I know, Draco!" she interrupted, fuming. "I was there! Funny enough, you weren't!"

"Well, I would have been if that bloody boulder hadn't fallen on me," he protested. Due to lack of experienced healers, the members of the safe house had been forced to resort to some muggle methods. The most they could do was charm his cast to speed up the process, so he had been unable to fight for a month following the accident. At that moment, however, he was unable to go because he had broken one of his wrists when he had fallen thirty feet after an explosion had sent him flying, and they hadn't wanted to take any chances.

"Hermione!" someone called from below, and Draco was met with two large brown eyes, begging him to let her go.

"Please, Draco!" she cried. "I have to go!"

With the knowledge that there was no way he would be able to stop her, he hugged her. "I- I love you," he said.

Hermione sighed, and looked at him with solemn, yet loving eyes, tears threatening to fall. "I know, Draco. I love you, too."