Harry Potter/Draco & Hermione (002 Dream)
Title: Ash
Rating: PG
Fandom: Harry Potter
Character: Hermione Granger (to Draco Malfoy)
Author's Notes: I decided, because the seventh book was such a disappointment to me, I would totally disregard it. So, I suppose if there were spoilers, it’s probably from books 1-6, and this might even be classified as AU. Probably. And of course I own absolutely nothing!
Dear Malfoy,
I am writing you this letter already knowing that the chances of receiving a response are little to none. I’m not particularly sure if you still live at Malfoy Manor, but I’ve addressed this letter there anyway because I haven’t faintest idea where else you could be. Some people say you live in France now, others insist you’re dead. I know you’re not dead, though, because I did receive a package some years ago with the locket that was stolen from me by Crabbe, and I believe that it was from you. This has led me to believe that you are alive and well, just hiding, perhaps a lot like me.
Thank you for the locket.
I suppose the proper thing to do is to enter into an array of formalities, such as ‘how are you?’ and an update of what I’ve been doing since you’ve last seen me, but I don’t feel as if I need to do that. I’ve just woken up, and I’m a little frazzled and I might even regret writing this, but so be it. I’ve avoided it long enough.
I wonder, do you remember Hogwarts in the spring? The trees in full bloom, the smell of grass and the sound of laughter floating through the air as students rushed through the hallways? I dreamt about it tonight, all night, and it seemed so real that, for a moment, I thought I was back there. I was sitting under a tree reading a book that I’m pretty sure doesn’t exist in real life, and you came and sat beside me with a pile of ash in your hands. I closed my book and smiled at you, slowly blowing the ash away until you had completely disappeared.
The dream is still fresh in my head, still affecting me, and it’s probably why I’m writing you in the first place. We were never friends. We never shared those spring days as schoolchildren together; in fact, even after everything we’ve been through, I hardly know who you are. In many ways, you’re just an idea…a reoccurring dream I can’t seem to understand or to get rid off, and...I can’t remember if any of it was ever real. For the past five years I’ve painstakingly lived my life, going through the motions of being everything I promised myself to be, putting the war and those awful six months of captivity behind me. But I guess you can only run so far before everything you never faced finally catches up to you.
What I’ve always brushed aside without any attempt to comprehend is the fact you saved my life. You didn’t have to, it was your duty not to, but you did-you saved me. I’ve always just accepted it because thinking about it scared me and you’ve always scared me in your own way, Malfoy. You were never kind to me; in fact, you were positively ruthless when we were peers, and my presence (at least I assumed) was all but ignored when I was a prisoner in your home. I can’t imagine why you did what you did, and for some reason, I’ve had a sense of loneliness because I feel like we never had the opportunity to talk.
Sometimes the image of us in the rain, your beautiful, stony face set, your low voice telling me “go” as you threw spells with such skill to protect me-it flashes through my mind, and I swear I can still feel your warm, wet hand tightly clutching mine. I’ll never forget the look in your eyes, one of determination and of urgency and…of fear.
I suppose what I’m searching for is what I thought I never needed: closure. I suppose I thought that never seeing you again would be fine enough for me, but I was so grotesquely wrong. I’ve been wrong a lot lately.
Hermione
Rating: PG
Fandom: Harry Potter
Character: Hermione Granger (to Draco Malfoy)
Author's Notes: I decided, because the seventh book was such a disappointment to me, I would totally disregard it. So, I suppose if there were spoilers, it’s probably from books 1-6, and this might even be classified as AU. Probably. And of course I own absolutely nothing!
Dear Malfoy,
I am writing you this letter already knowing that the chances of receiving a response are little to none. I’m not particularly sure if you still live at Malfoy Manor, but I’ve addressed this letter there anyway because I haven’t faintest idea where else you could be. Some people say you live in France now, others insist you’re dead. I know you’re not dead, though, because I did receive a package some years ago with the locket that was stolen from me by Crabbe, and I believe that it was from you. This has led me to believe that you are alive and well, just hiding, perhaps a lot like me.
Thank you for the locket.
I suppose the proper thing to do is to enter into an array of formalities, such as ‘how are you?’ and an update of what I’ve been doing since you’ve last seen me, but I don’t feel as if I need to do that. I’ve just woken up, and I’m a little frazzled and I might even regret writing this, but so be it. I’ve avoided it long enough.
I wonder, do you remember Hogwarts in the spring? The trees in full bloom, the smell of grass and the sound of laughter floating through the air as students rushed through the hallways? I dreamt about it tonight, all night, and it seemed so real that, for a moment, I thought I was back there. I was sitting under a tree reading a book that I’m pretty sure doesn’t exist in real life, and you came and sat beside me with a pile of ash in your hands. I closed my book and smiled at you, slowly blowing the ash away until you had completely disappeared.
The dream is still fresh in my head, still affecting me, and it’s probably why I’m writing you in the first place. We were never friends. We never shared those spring days as schoolchildren together; in fact, even after everything we’ve been through, I hardly know who you are. In many ways, you’re just an idea…a reoccurring dream I can’t seem to understand or to get rid off, and...I can’t remember if any of it was ever real. For the past five years I’ve painstakingly lived my life, going through the motions of being everything I promised myself to be, putting the war and those awful six months of captivity behind me. But I guess you can only run so far before everything you never faced finally catches up to you.
What I’ve always brushed aside without any attempt to comprehend is the fact you saved my life. You didn’t have to, it was your duty not to, but you did-you saved me. I’ve always just accepted it because thinking about it scared me and you’ve always scared me in your own way, Malfoy. You were never kind to me; in fact, you were positively ruthless when we were peers, and my presence (at least I assumed) was all but ignored when I was a prisoner in your home. I can’t imagine why you did what you did, and for some reason, I’ve had a sense of loneliness because I feel like we never had the opportunity to talk.
Sometimes the image of us in the rain, your beautiful, stony face set, your low voice telling me “go” as you threw spells with such skill to protect me-it flashes through my mind, and I swear I can still feel your warm, wet hand tightly clutching mine. I’ll never forget the look in your eyes, one of determination and of urgency and…of fear.
I suppose what I’m searching for is what I thought I never needed: closure. I suppose I thought that never seeing you again would be fine enough for me, but I was so grotesquely wrong. I’ve been wrong a lot lately.
Hermione