Title: 3,675 Letters

Status: ONE SHOT! Maybe a story continuing

Authoress: ItalianSilverEyedGirl

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the daughter of Hermione and Draco…

Parting words: Read and Review.

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They were dropping all around her. Lifeless bodies hit the ground in one slow motion. She was sick to her stomach. The bile rose up her throat and she couldn't hold it in. She vomited and then she ran. Her retching had caused her hiding spot to be revealed. Her legs pumped faster with each moment. She needed to get away and fast, to where she did not know. Her heart beat banged against the delicate skin that covered her chest. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps and she jumped over the bodies. There were so many of them, so many bodies. Her tears rolled down her cheek as she ran past Ron's lifeless body, she would never hear his laughter once again. She would never feel his hands on her body. The urge to vomit rose in her throat once again but she turned her head and spit. Her feet kept moving, she needed to keep running.

The Forbidden Forest loomed in her line of sight. She kept running for the trees, for the sanity, for the sanctuary that they offered. Her mind was blank as her feet hit the hard earth around her. What is the grass? She kept asking herself. What is the air? What is the earth? What are humans? What are Muggles? She knew the answers to all of these, but that is what they were fighting over. Prejudice blood ran through the veins of some of the Purebloods that she went to school with. She was Muggle-born; she was one of the reasons that this war was taking place. Would people say that some of the deaths were her fault? Of course they would, the true question was would she care?

Sweat was dripping down her body as she put on a burst of energy. Twenty more feet and she would be able to duck in between the trees. She would be able to loom her way into safety. She was wrong. Her long hair was matted with sweat, dirt, and blood. Mudblood. What else could she do but run at this moment? She ran faster and harder. The trees crowded around her but she did not slow down. She kept moving, keeping her breathing to a minimum. Her head was wobbling and her eyesight was going blurry. She shut her eyes and shook her head. She kept moving. What other choice did she have? A large rock was directly up in front of her. She pointed her wand at the front of it and smiled when she figured that it was not a mirage. As she was rounding the corned or the boulder a hand clamped over her mouth and roughly pushed her up against the rock. Her scream was stifled.

"Shut up, Granger." He whispered into her ear. Her chest was heaving and her legs felt like jelly from the exertion. "Will you stay quiet if I let go of your mouth?" she nodded her head. His hand slid from her mouth. Immediately she turned her head and retched once again.

"Scourgify." She muttered pointing her wand to the ground and then repeated the motion in her mouth. She glared up at the man who had stopped her from making her escape. She was almost to the apparition point; she was almost out of here.

"Granger? Are you okay?" She nodded her head again but she still glared at him distrusting.

"What do you want Malfoy?" she whispered as she inched herself away from the rock. She would only have to run a few more feet and then she could apparate. She would be away from this war, she would be away from the death, she would be away from his gray eyes. Those damn eyes, they were piercing her soul at the moment. He was staring into her deeper self, seeing her fears, knowing that he could not save her, from herself.

"I wanted to give you this." He muttered before stalking off deeper into the forest. She looked down at her hand and smirked. The arse had given her a crumpled up piece of paper. She had no time to sit and look at it as she turned and began to run once again. The point was right in front of her. All she had to do was reach out and touch it. But she couldn't, someone was already in the process of using it. She had to wait until the barrier broke. She checked back every minute and finally after five long agonizing minutes she could apparate.

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She collapsed onto her bed in Grimuald Place and cried. She cried for so long that her eyes began to hurt. She had heard people come in and out of the house but she did not have the energy to go see who had won the war. Hermione Granger lay on her bed and cried for three straight days. She had yet to be killed and that must mean something. But, then again, she was in an unplottable house and the person who was the safe keeper was dead. She could never be found here. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. A lonely spider weaved a web in the corner. She smiled at the lonely creature and decided to venture out into the hallway.

The house was quiet around here, a silence that could only be created by death. Closing her fist tighter she felt something crinkle in her hand. Immediately she realized that this was the paper that Malfoy had given her. She sighed and sat down on the top step and unfolded the paper. The writing was messy, as if written in a hurry. Each word held it's own meaning in his head but she was not sure as to what any of it meant.

When you sleep at night

I see your face

When the clock strikes nine

I feel your embrace

As you smile at Potter

I hate the feeling

That I receive

When you are screaming

I listen to your voice

And something inside

Quivers

Nothing makes sense anymore

Except for one thing

You, Hermione Granger

Know-it-all, bookworm

Mudblood extraordinaire

Make me want to curl up into a ball

And cry

Something inside me

Dies

When you are not near

So I scribble this down

To let you know the truth

Somewhere in my cold beating chamber

I have come to accept and love you

She clutched the paper to her heart and allowed a tear to fall down her face. She heard voices from the kitchen and decided to head that way.

"Potter has been found?"

"Where is he?"

"How is he?"

"St. Mungo's?"

"What do you mean you can't find Hermione?" She knocked on the door and waited for someone to let her into the locked kitchen. Without her wand she could not open the door. Mrs. Weasley gasped and then pulled Hermione into the room.

"Sit down, eat something. Where are the others?" Hermione dropped her head and cried.

"Ron is…Merlin, he's gone. Ginny…I sent her to America by the apparition point. She should be back soon though. Fred and George…I never saw them again. They ran off and I never saw them throughout the entire war." Silence ensued throughout the entire kitchen. Nobody was…anything. They all just were.

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In the three months since Ron's death I have come to realize that I do not need him to survive. His laughter is missed along with his kiss but I know that he would want me to move on with my life. That's why after he was buried I returned to Grimuald Place and sat on the bed. I did not shed a tear, like I normally would have, but I smiled. I smiled because he did not die in vain; I smiled because he lived a healthy life. I smiled because I knew that he had fought until the very end. I never received the chance to tell him that I loved him, but that is just it. I loved him. I do not love him anymore; I admire his courage, and his strength. I love him like a brother, but anything more has officially left my brain. Ronald Weasley was no more.

I looked up from the diary and scanned Diagon Alley. I never noticed that he had sat down in the chair at the same table. I never noticed that he had read everything that I just wrote, until I went to finish the entry. My eyes hardened and I smirked at him. He repeated the same motions and opened his mouth.

"How are you, Hermione?" he asked quietly, as if afraid that he would offend her otherwise.

"I'm fine…Draco." She replied. He still had that sinking feeling, he could save her from everything else, but herself.

"Want to go somewhere else and talk?" he asked her. She smiled at him, remembering his poem.

"Yeah." She muttered.

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The house was decorated in black and green leather. She loved the smell of new leather. A smiled cursed her lips. The ceilings were high and the furniture was expensive. He showed her to the living room and left to retrieve something. He returned with a plate of drinks and cookies and a box floating behind him.

"3,675 letters, and all of them are addressed to you." He looked down at her and sat in the nearest chair.

"Draco…if I may call you that? That poem…why did you give it to me?" He hung his head in thought.

"I wasn't sure if I would ever see your bushy head again, so I needed you to know how I truly felt. I wasn't even sure if you would ever reciprocate the love for me, but I just needed you to know." She nodded her head in understanding and fell into a silence that would be uncomfortable anywhere else. Their breathing was timed; each breath began and ended at the same time. Hermione remembered something that her mother once told her. If you happen to find a person who can breath in perfect time as you…hold on to them. Or something like that. She stared at Draco until he could not bear looking into her eyes. He saw something there that could not be identified. They were lost in each other. A harsh vibrating emitted from Hermione's purse, but she did not dig for the cell phone. It was only Harry, nobody else would need to call her now.

With their eyes still locked in time, Draco lifted himself off the chair and walked over to Hermione. Her breath hitched in her throat when his hand collided with hers. Her heart stopped and her knees went weak.

"Hermione, since fourth year, when I began to think for myself, I liked you. First I was in denial, then I accepted that I liked you, and then in the middle of seventh year, I realized that I loved you. And then when I was told that you would die in the war, I could not let you. I needed you to know how I felt about you, I had to save you if I could. But Hermione, there is something that I cannot save you from, and that is yourself. I cannot save you from the one thing that you designed to kill you from the inside. Hermione, you have to let me in, because if not, I will never love again. You finally broke me, you broke heartless Draco Malfoy." She began to breath again, and still it was the same. She sent her lips a message to kiss him, and she reached up and did just that.

Their tongues battled for dominance. As his hands explored her body, and he cried. He cried for all the times he had imagined this moment, but it was not like this, no the real thing was better. His tears mixed with hers on their cheeks as they slowly began to slip out of the unwanted clothes.

"I hate clothes." He whispered to her as she nodded. He picked her up and slipped her pumps off of her feet. His hands gently rubbed her calves and then up to her thighs. She was radiating heat from her core and it drove him crazy. He bit her lower lip and she emitted a small scream.

"Merlin."

"Stop talking." Hermione moaned before jamming her lips back onto his. He roughly slammed her against the door of his bedroom. The bed was only a few feet away but the pain in his pants was apparent. He could not think of anything else. He wanted her. He needed her. He kicked the door open and they rushed in. Slamming the door shut with his foot he tossed her on the bed and ripped her shirt from her body. Immediately his mouth clamped over her left nipple. Her breath was ragged as was his as he bit her nipple and pulled up. She screamed and yanked his hair. She flipped him over and licked his neck. Her breasts barely touched his chest, and he hated it, he needed to feel her body against his.

She was working at his belt buckle as his hands found her vagina. He pumped his fingers into her as she moaned. She smiled down at him as she felt his penis. He glared at her as she stroked the length of him. He cried out in exasperation before he flipped her over.

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Hermione Granger never left his house. She moved in the next day and they didn't leave the house for two weeks. When she left the house to visit Harry, who had left 32 messages on her cell phone before Draco broke it, she was sporting a large diamond ring. Harry cried when he noticed the ring and refused to believe that they were getting married.

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As for me, I am the child off that first night. I'm sixteen now, and well I just found all the 3,675 letters that my dad wrote my mom. I just finished my mother's 3,675 letters to my dad when I decided to write this.

"Haylie Lynn Malfoy! Get down here right now!" Well that's my cue. Daddy is calling because he is allowing me one trip into the Muggle World; maybe I'll follow in his footsteps and fall for the enemy. Blaise Zabini Jr. is really cute. Who knows?