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Summary
There was a collection of moments held in the softest parts of her heart. She replayed them endlessly, rewriting, editing, embellishing, to create a love story. One of star-crossed lovers. One of two people with smaller problems, or brave enough to reach across a war. An epic tale made up of longing glances and secret, gentle fragments that felt like vows no one else would believe.
Because really, there was no reason to believe that Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger shared even the beginnings of a friendship. And yet, there were rare, fleeting slips in time she clung to. Notes locked in a box, moments written on the pages of a charmed journal no one else could read, where Hermione Granger tried, again and again, to understand what she meant to Draco Malfoy.