Work Text:
Draco was sitting in the study of the Head Students Dormitory surrounded by balled up pieces of paper. He had been trying to write this blasted letter for days, but nothing seemed right.
How could he tell her that he loved her? He knew he wouldn’t be able to do it to her face. He had already tried that multiple times. And then he had tried sending a patronus to her, but it was a garbled mess. So then he tried telling her friends. But they had turned their wands on him as soon as he came towards them.
Now he had been trying to write the letter for days. He had destroyed so many. He was so tired that his eyes were drooping— but he had to do this.
He had almost finished the letter when he fell asleep.
He didn’t even hear Hermione enter the dorm. But she found him and all the letters he had decided weren’t good enough.
When she saw all the paper around and the one that he had been writing, she took it from him and then hid it in her robes before waking him up and sending him to bed. She was curious on what was stressing him out that he had been locked in here for days writing down.
She checked in on him and made sure he was properly asleep before going to her room and reading the letter.
Dearest Hermione,
We have been friends now for three years and everything that you do makes my heart feel as if it is beating out of my chest.
Your beauty and energy are transcendent. I wish I could tell you in person how I feel. But I’ve tried. I’ve tried telling your friends. And I’ve tried sending you a patronus. But nothing ever worked.
Now I have struggled for days to write this letter. I want more from us. I want to wake up beside you everyday. I want to know that you’re mine. I want you to know just how perfect you are and show you what the Queen that you deserve the very best.
Please be mine and let me show you how beautiful you are.
I love you
Yours
Draco
Hermione sat their, mouth agape, she hadn’t realised all of those garbled patronuses could be anything resembling a love confession.
She knew how she felt and she was glad he felt the same.
In the morning she would tell him that she had read his letter— and that she felt the same.