Slow Grenade

Chapter Forty-Seven

Dear Draco,

I'm writing this letter to you because I feel so alone. I'm never going to send it, obviously, I just want to pretend. Pretend that none of this ever happened. I'm still so angry with you. For leaving me the way you did, for not trusting me enough to help, for whatever the hell happened on the Astronomy Tower. But there's no point ruminating anymore, I've done enough of that. All I've got to focus on now is keeping Harry, Ron, and myself alive. That's no easy feat, I can promise you.

Our mission to liberate Harry from his aunt and uncle's house happened today. I was one of the 'Seven Potters'. I wondered whether you were there and whether it would bother you if I was killed. Instead, it was Moody who lost his life and Snape almost killed George.

I'm not stupid, I know what I signed up for and I knew it would be dangerous but... I think the reality of the situation really hit home today.

We've been trying to continue with life as best we can, Bill and Fleur even got married. The happiness didn't last long though. As I'm sure you were aware, Death Eaters swarmed the Burrow and rounded up as many guests as they could. I can still hear the Patronus that appeared from Kingsley, I don't think it could ever be erased from my memory: "The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."

Hermione.

Dear Draco,

It feels strange to think that you're back at Hogwarts for your final year whilst we risk our lives to put an end to this war. I wonder whether you thought Harry and Ron would return, you must have known I wouldn't be there – not with the Muggle-born Register, and all. Does that bother you? Do you care what's happened to me at all?

Voldemort has probably told you by now that we broke into the Ministry, although he won't yet understand why. It was surprisingly less disastrous than I'd thought it would be (clearly my expectations were exceedingly low). But, unfortunately, it meant we had to leave the safe house. We've been travelling from place to place since then, keeping as hidden as we can, and scavenging food where possible.

I'm terrified, Draco. I hardly sleep, jumping awake at the slightest noise, and even when I do manage a few hours I'm plagued by nightmares. It's like the fear has seeped into my bones, refusing to give me a moment to breathe. I keep wondering whether this is how you felt last year and I know I should have asked you more often. You pushed me away, but I let you, and I'm sorry for that.

I wish I could find comfort in your arms, but I know I'll never find anything there again.

Hermione.

Dear Draco,

Ron kissed me.

We were sat together on our evening watch when he pulled me to him, his lips hot on mine. I kissed him back and it was... nice, I guess. Nice to feel wanted in that way again. But all I could think about was you. The way you held me, how you felt pressed against me, inside me, your smell, your taste. He wanted to go further and, well, I just couldn't. It felt wrong. I still feel like I'm yours.

I tried to explain that I didn't feel that way about him, but it was difficult for the argument to hold much weight when my lips were swollen from his kisses. It eventually turned out that, for a long time, he's held the belief that I'm in love with Harry; my denying him apparently confirmed it.

Ron left that night, said he couldn't bear to be in the same space as Harry and I. Can you imagine if he knew it was Draco Malfoy who tore out my heart and left me to bleed?

Your lips are no longer the last to claim mine. I didn't realise how much I would mourn that.

Hermione.

Dear Draco,

I told Harry about us today. We've both been struggling since Ron left and have found ourselves talking long into the night about anything and everything. I don't think I've cried as much since the night you left me, but it actually felt quite cathartic: telling him about all the good (amazing) moments, as well as the not so good (devastating).

Harry was surprisingly calm and rational about it. He just held me as I talked about us in way that I've never been able to before. He didn't understand, of course, you've never exactly given him a reason to.

He told me that he saw us dancing at the Yule Ball and thought there was something odd about the way we looked at each other, as though we were the only two people in the world. At the time he put it down to having too many Butterbeers, but now he knows the truth. I remember that night so clearly, the first time we kissed. We were so young, but I couldn't see myself with anyone but you.

Hermione.

Dear Draco,

Today Harry and I were almost eaten by Voldemort's giant snake. I wish I were joking. I wish I never had to put those words together in a sentence. I was hesitant to go to Godric's Hollow but Harry has been so good to me. I don't know, I wanted to give him something back, I guess.

The necklace you gave me last Christmas... I think it saved me. The snake almost bit my neck and a sudden flash of light burst from my chest, protecting me. It sounds crazy, I know, but since it's only me reading this, I can say what I want. Was it you, Draco?

Anyway, we're fine. Physically, at least. Not that you would care either way anymore. Merlin, why am I still writing these? I suppose it's my final connection to you. One I can't seem to let go of.

Hermione.

Dear Draco,

Ron came back. He says he's sorry, but it's hard to forgive him. He left Harry and I when we were at our lowest and we're not sure how to accept him back. Obviously we're all trying to get along again, and Ron's on his best behaviour, but he just doesn't quite understand the despair that fills Harry and I every day that passes without us destroying another Horcrux.

We went to visit Xenophilius Lovegood yesterday and he attempted to hand us over to the Death Eaters. I understand why he did it, his daughter has been taken, but it was terrifying and I felt almost paralysed in fear. I'm still not sure how I managed to get us out of there.

I hurt Draco, so much, all of the time. But I have to stay strong. They need me and I won't leave them.

Hermione.