I Miss You

To see you when I wake up

Is a gift I didn't think could be real

"Hey," I had said when she opened her eyes slowly. Finally, I thought. I've been waiting ages for you to wake.

"Hey," she replied softly with a tiny smile, tiredness unmasked behind her face. I kept my arms wrapped around her, not wanting to let go of her, ever.

To know that you feel the same as I do

Is a three-fold, utopian dream

I watched her from the kitchen counter as she was reading The Daily Prophet at the breakfast table that same morning. Her brows furrowed in concentration as she studied the paper, nothing really relevant shown. I smiled to myself and crept up behind her, snaking my arms around her neck and laying my head on her shoulder, peering at the Prophet.

"Ya know what I love about you?" I asked sweetly, egging her on.

"Hm?" she turned her head towards me and gave me a toothless smile. "What?"

"I love how your face screws up when you read," I stated with a smile to rival Hermione's. I kissed her on the nose and swept off to my room, getting dressed.

You do something to me that I can't explain

A person may say that you have not lived until you have loved. I used to think that was so much shit until I truly met Hermione Granger in my 7^th year.

Hermione and I had been in love since our 7^th year in Hogwarts, when we both fulfilled the Head positions. Of course, up until two years ago did we have to keep our romance a secret. The Dark Lord had finally been defeated by the invulnerable Harry Potter, and all his supporters, including Lucius, were placed in Azkaban. Our relationship doesn't have to be a secret anymore, I recall thinking. We all thought we were safe by them now. But I was the only one mistaken.

I was forced into hiding six months ago. A friend of my father's, someone who was surprisingly not a Deatheater, had been hired as a hitman to kill me, his only son. I had betrayed Lucius and acted as a spy for the light side. He wanted me to pay in death for those actions. As by luck, he had not known that I was in love with a muggle born.

Dumbledore had sent me an owl right after Hermione had gone to sleep that night, saying that I must see him immediately. He firmly said I had to vacate in the morning and was to be in hiding until the hitman was captured.

"You cannot tell anyone of this, Draco," Dumbledore had clearly stated, "for if word got around about this, your killer could injure loved ones and discover where you're hidden." He took in a deep breath. "We must not let the enemy discover that we know."

So would I be out of line

If I said,

I miss you

The note I had left her was completely useless and dumb. How could I say goodbye to her in a note, not knowing how long I would be gone? I finally thought of something to say, and without being compassionate, I wrote the letter. If I were less compassionate, then she would care less about me when I was away.

I grabbed my necessities and before leaving, I kissed her on the forehead delicately, not wanting to wake her. She smiled in her sleep and rolled onto her side, feeling the sheets beneath where I would normally be lying next to her.

I was already missing her. Tears were starting to form behind my eyes as I tried to comfort myself. He said it might take months, a year even; Lucius' men are very skilled. But the Ministry's men can do it, I know they can...

I see your picture, I smell your skin on the empty pillow next to mine

Already I am wasting away

One of the things I took with me was a picture of her, smiling and blushing at the camera, at me. We were in Diagon Alley, shopping for items, when I decided to take her picture with a camera in a store we were in. She had shied away from the device in my hand, trying to cover her face and then moving towards me, attempting to block the lenses of the camera. Luckily for me, she did not succeed and I rubbed my success all in her face, like a true Slytherin and a Malfoy. I purchased the camera then and developed the picture later. The moving photo really did speak more than a thousand words

I spent my days thinking about her. Every time I looked at that picture besides my bed now, my heart swelled. I so needed her, and I hated that I couldn't tell her the truth. I hated the fact I couldn't contact her at all. I had to stay in solitude from her and the rest of the world, save Dumbledore and a couple of Ministry workers.

I stole one of the pillows she had been using that night I left, replacing it immediately with another one, as to not disturb her. Placing a Scent-Locking Charm on the pillow, it would forever smell like her scent, mixed fragrances of flowers. A day never passed that I didn't smell that pillow, lying next to me, hoping she could be there with me again...

I know I'll see you again

Whether far or soon

There was still that inch of hope in me, telling me that they would soon capture that man that was the main cause of this pain. Telling me that any day now, I would be able to see my Hermione. The Ministry of Magic was able to keep my profile low in the wizarding world and Dumbledore assured me that my hiding spot was very secluded and safe.

But that wasn't enough for me. Of course I wanted everyone to stay safe, but did I really have to stay here and do nothing? I checked my calendar to see how long it's been since I left the public eye: six months.

But I need you to know that I care

I couldn't stand it anymore; I had to know where she was. I don't care if I had to swim an entire sea. I needed to feel that rush of blood to the head, the feeling that always washed over me when she was within my vision. Just thinking about her wasn't even an inkling of the feeling of seeing her. Holding her. Kissing her.

I didn't care if Dumbledore didn't want me to go back into the real world just yet. I had to see my baby, no matter at what cost. I stood up abruptly from my bed and that's when I heard it.

And I miss you

An owl was tapping its beak on my windowpane and I looked kind of shocked; I haven't received letters by owl in six months. I quickly opened the window and retrieved the letter from the messenger's leg. I opened the brown parchment and searched the bottom, looking for a signature, and found it, in green, curly ink: Albus Dumbledore. I quickly read the parchment, not believing a word the old man had written. Telling me that they had captured the hitman. That I could finally be kept out of hiding. That I finally had freedom.

Informing me of the hotel's address where Hermione was staying in Venice that day.