Draco sat still as a statue at his desk, staring at the parchment before him. He’d written so many letters that night, by instruction of his mind healer, that he wasn’t sure he could find the fortitude to tackle this one last message. This one was the one that would hurt him the most to write, and it was likely why he’d put this one off till the end. Focusing on grounding himself, fighting the urge to raise his occlumency shields, he dipped his quill in the emerald green ink and began to write.
Potter,
Hello, it's Malfoy.
I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet to… go over everything that happened between us.
My mind healer (don’t mock me, I’m sure you see one too now) says that time is supposed to heal, but I don’t feel we have done much healing. I am aware there is a good bit of difference between us, and I’m from the “other” side, but I must have thought about reaching out a thousand times.
All I want is to tell you I’m sorry. Sorry for everything I’ve done. When I’ve tried to call, it seems you’ve never been home. I wanted to do this in person, but at least now I can tell my mind healer that I’ve tried.
I’m sorry I broke your heart, Harry. I just couldn’t see a way out of the mess I was in, and I was too afraid of the Dark Lord to put my trust in you, where it belonged. My only consolation is that we made it out to the other side of that accursed war.
There, now I’ve tried.
Draco Malfoy