Letters

And anything to daring to say to you
will be said in this letter and burnt away
so you never realize I'm here..."
Midnight Highway(Daphne Loves Derby)

There are so many things I wish I could say to you. Every thought running through my head, how I love the way you make me feel, the thrill I get when you look at me.

But I can't, because I'm me, and you're you. Gryffindor and Slytherin. Pureblood and Muggle-born. Your best friend, a future Death Eater, hates me. My best friend, The Boy Who Lived, hates you.

How did we even manage to become friends in the first place? I thought that the whole year, we'd be arguing and hexing each other; was Dumbledore off his rocker when he made the Head Boy and Girl a Gryffindor and a Slytherin?

But then you actually managed to be a nice guy. Sure, you were sometimes an asshole on the exterior, but if anyone observed you long enough they'd know it was all a facade to look cool.

You're actually a lot like I am- you have a thirst to learn, get excellent grades, and your friends are the most important people to you. We both have the same goals in life, want to go the same places. And we both love doing the same activities. Who knew that we'd actually begin to talk and get along?

Well, Dumbledore, I suppose.

When you began to confide in me, I was shocked. When you talked of your interest in a fourth-year Slytherin, I strongly disapproved, and I had no idea why. It wasn't as if it was the age difference- when I went to the Yule Ball with Viktor, we had a four year difference. Why should three matter?

Then it hit me. I was jealous. I was actually flat-out jealous. I could not believe it for the life of me. How could I be jealous? Could I really care for you as more than a friend?

The feeling was so incredibly new to me. I had never even expected to see you in that way, never thought it at all possible.

Of course, this realization brought other realizations. I remember catching youre eye in the Great Hall one morning earlier this year. You were laughing at some joke one of your housemates had made, then your head turned and your gaze met mine. I felt a jolt that nearly made me drop the book I was reading, and at that moment I was struck by how... how honest you looked. I no longer saw you as just a silent Slytherin, but as a person. And that little glimpse of honesty made me realize your beauty, all of the things I know now- your artistic soul, your vibrant love of life. I now realize it, that moment was the beginning of it all, of my self-titled "Hopeless Love."

Whenever I see you, I can't help but smile. The curiousity in your blue eyes, and the way your dark hair falls into them when the wind picks up. The way you observe everything around you, your tendency to break out into song- when in private or among close friends, of course- even your insane addiction to coffee. All of it intrigues me and everything about you is dear to me. Every day I learn something new, and every day I'm glad I know you.

I write about all of this with the hopes that I may gather the courage to actually give it to you. To say in three simple words: I love you.

But then I remember. I am a Gryffindor and you are a Slytherin. We beat all the odds in becoming friends... is it possible for us to hop over more hurdles and make it as more? And, more importantly, do you want to? If you did, would I be able to trust you? Or will I forever be worrying over whether or not it is simply an act for your amusement? For the amusement of your closest friends, who would jump at the chance to hurt me?

If I ever do gather the courage to give this letter to you, I hope that I can trust you. I hope I'll be able to look you straight in the eyes and tell you those three small words, without worry over if you really mean it or not.

Yours, Hermione.

* * *

The seventh years were gathered on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, saying their last goodbyes as the younger students made their way through the barrier.

Hermione, having already said goodbye to Harry and Ron, stood alone, clutching the letter in her left hand. She was battling with herself, debating whether or not she would(or could) walk up to Blaise and give it to him. He stood talking to Draco Malfoy, hands in his pockets, Slytherin tie carelessly thrown over one shoulder. Hermione watched as the wind blew his black hair across his cheeks. Watching as he brushed the hair out of his eyes, she took a deep breath and started towards him. After only a few steps, she stopped short.

Blaise was smiling down at the pretty girl before him. Hermione's heart lurched. The Slytherin fourth year. Her knight in Slytherin colors laughed at something the temptress said, then bent down to leave a chaste kiss on her cheek. Heart breaking, Hermione crushed the letter in her hand and hurried off the platform before anyone noticed the tears swimming in her eyes.

Blaise finished chatting with the younger girl, waving slightly as he stepped away. His eyes searched the platform, not finding what he was seeking. Then, sighing, he pulled a piece of folded-up parchment out of his pocket and ignited it with his wand tip. Tossing it on the ground, he strolled away, defeat in his eyes. The letter burned quickly, no one ever seeing the name 'Hermione' written on it in elegant script.

Fin.