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Magnetism by lustylover

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Format: Novel
Chapters: 22
Word Count: 105,489
Status: WIP

Rating: Mature
Warnings: Strong Language, Strong Violence, Scenes of a Sexual Nature, Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme

Genres: Romance, Action/Adventure, Angst
Characters: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Draco, Pansy, Ginny
Pairings: Draco/Hermione, Draco/Pansy, Ron/Hermione

First Published: 07/16/2008
Last Chapter: 10/22/2012
Last Updated: 10/22/2012

Summary:



 

At Hogwarts, green and scarlet mix about as often as Harry and Ron ace Potions. For Draco and Hermione, staying together becomes a measure of love, determination and an ability to fight against the surrounding factors that want nothing but to tear them apart. 

  New chapter in validation as of 6/3!


Chapter 3: Confusion
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For the first time since I had arrived at Hogwarts, I had absolute silence. It was the most relieving and relaxing feeling I have had in a while. My next class sped by rather uneventfully after the very public fight between my now ex-boyfriend and myself. Not in a million years did I think my second day at Hogwarts would be like this. I was overly attracted to the cruelest and most soulless boy alive, my two best friends weren’t talking to me, hell, they couldn’t even look at me and one of them was my boyfriend less than three hours ago.

I sat against the doorway until my next class. The room spun around me for what seemed like a lifetime, and I could not get the events of the last two days out of my head. Malfoy and Ron and Harry entered my mind and spun about, giving me an aching mind and heart. All of their words and accusations resonated within me, and I could not get any of them out of my head. I was at a loss for words and direction; I had no idea what I was going to do about the situation. It seemed like Ron and I were unfixable, and I assumed that Harry would be loyal to his male friend, meaning that my two closest friends on the planet were now in a world completely separate from my own, and I wasn’t sure if I could handle it. My biggest worry was that Harry and I could no longer be close, and I needed him now more than ever.

Talking to Ron would surely be impossible, seeing his immaturity levels and what he believes I have done with Draco Malfoy. The unfairness of the situation could not be any worse, seeing as Draco and I have orbited in completely opposite directions until just twenty four hours ago, where we have suddenly seemed to have crossed the same paths, fallen in synch with one another. And I have seen glimpses of a side of Draco that I have never witnessed before ever, not even when he has talked to people as close as his parents. It doesn’t help the fact that I have to see all of these boys every single day in my classes and during free time. Escaping this situation is absolutely impossible, I concluded to myself. And before I thought I was ready to, I got up off my place on the hardwood floor.

After peeling myself off of the floor in the empty girls dormitory and cleaning myself up, I gathered my things and walked out of the common room to my next class while looking straight ahead the entire time. There was no use in trying to hide from my fellow housemates; I would see them everywhere and run into them almost every second of every day. I didn’t purposely leave late so most of the people would have cleared out, I didn’t deliberately sit in the back of the classroom to avoid watchful and curious eyes, I carried about my day as normally as possible. However I couldn’t deny to myself that I was acting more okay than I truly was on the inside. I felt every single person’s eyes on me as I walked quickly out of the Gryffindor common room.

I also could not deny how good it felt to be free. There was no nagging and no feeling of being attached at the hip to a three year old. My intense feelings towards Ron made me feel guilty; I was so eager to see him only a day ago, but what he accused me of and his reaction to everything could not have resulted in much less from me. I could not possibly get these thoughts out of my head as I took my seat at the end of our usual three-person table in Potions class.

I really wasn’t expecting them to come and sit next to me; our argument was still a fresh, open wound, and I couldn’t imagine either of them wanting to face me. I hardly wanted to see them, either; I was afraid of Ron’s state of mind and Harry’s thoughts of our friendship. I sat quietly, breathing deeply with my hands cupping my chin. I fought back nervousness with these deep breaths, knowing that despite my greatest prayer, Ron and Harry and Malfoy would be in the same room with me at any moment now.

“No. I really don’t want to sit over there,” I heard someone whisper harshly from behind me. It was the unmistakable voice of Ronald Weasley. He sounded extremely angry. I could picture his beet-red face perfectly in my head.

 “Ron,” Harry started under his breath, “We have to. Let’s go.”

Nothing could stop my heart from racing now. My back was rigid and my cheeks were flushed as they had an almost inaudible conversation behind me. Ron sounded furious and embarrassed, Harry sounded hurt and determined. The last thing I expected them to do was come and sit at the same table as me.

Harry slid onto the middle stool, right beside me, and Ron took the seat farthest from me. I heard him shift his stool further away, the legs making loud scraping sounds against the floor as he did so. I was so shocked that I couldn’t even speak; their closeness was making me squirm with guilt and discomfort. I could feel Harry looking at me, though I was too afraid to meet his eyes and see the conviction in eyes. His eyes were all I needed to see to know what he was thinking, and that horrified me.

Harry cleared his throat as class was about to begin. Even though I knew this was an acknowledgement of my presence, I didn’t dare look in either boy’s direction. I also didn’t dare to turn and look for Draco as I heard his sharp voice echo in the rather empty and dingy room. I felt Harry’s eyes on me again, seeing my reaction to Draco’s obvious entrance into the classroom, but I did my best not to react. It was awful that I even had the urge to do so.

As if on cue, our new professor, Professor Warnock walked in to the room with a huge smile across his face and quickly began class. The girls around me sighed as he went about his speech. I had to admit that he was adorable, and that he was quite an improvement. The class slowly died down to a complete silence as we all observed our new professor. He seemed to completely ignore our intense scrutinizing and instead began the lesson with absolute confidence.

“Hello seventh years! Welcome to your final year of Potions class. My name is William Warnock,” he said, while writing his name with chalk on the board behind him. He put down the chalk and brushed his hands together, “I hope that you all had a great few months off from school and I hope to continue making your Potions experience enjoyable,” he smiled at us, dimples forming in his cheeks. Professor Warnock was nothing short of gorgeous; he had tousled auburn hair and a pair of bright blue eyes, his stature toned and strong. I knew that he would be the talk of the girls in the school both inside and out of the classroom.

A few people chuckled, and I almost joined them in the humor. Potions was hardly ever enjoyable.

“I just wanted to tell you a little bit about myself before getting started. This is my first year teaching. I graduated from Hogwarts eight years ago, and then went off to finish my degree accordingly. It’s really great to be back,” he said with a warm smile.

“That makes him in his mid-twenties,” whispered Harry, “that is by far the youngest teacher I have ever seen here.”

“It has always been my dream to teach and I really cannot think of a better place,” he added. He began describe the schedule for the year as well as class expectations and a description of what class would be like. After introductions were over, he began his lesson. The only sound in the room besides Professor Warnock’s talking was the soft scraping against parchment paper.

When the note-taking portion of class had concluded, and Professor Warnock tucked his wand away and began discussing what was necessary for tomorrow’s class. I relaxed my hands at my sides, allowing the blood to flow back down my arms, and I was so thankful for this rest so they could recover from writing on nearly five pieces of parchment. I liked Professor Warnock already; he was smart and funny, but most importantly, he was a good teacher.

After a few moments of stretching my fingers, my left hand was met with the warm touch of Harry’s hand. He pushed a folded up piece of parchment into my hand and closed my fingers around the paper. His soft touch made my skin tingle, and I was so shocked that I gave in and looked at him with wide, sad eyes. He looked back at me, and there was such equal kindness and sadness in them that it made the shame spread from the parchment all the way to my core. I felt the urge to apologize to him for everything that Ron and I had put him through in the last day.

Harry kept his hand wrapped around mine, which was now in the shape of a fist enclosing his note. We maintained eye contact for a few moments, and my mind raced with all of the words I wished that I could say to him at that moment. I wanted to tell him that I was sorry. That I was frightened of what would become of our friendship. I wanted to ask him what was wrong and why he had been acting so solemn lately. I wanted him to hug me and tell me that everything would be okay. I tried to keep my mouth shut as he squeezed my hand softly. It seemed as soon as he had grasped onto my hand, he let go of it, breaking eye contact with me at the same time and turning to face the professor as if nothing had happened.

I felt my cheeks flush as I lifted my hand enclosing the note to my lap and began rotating it between my two hands. I did not look down because I wasn’t sure what to expect from the new professor. The last few minutes of class scraped by, and all I could think about was what Harry could have written on the parchment. I imagined him expressing anger, expressing that he could no longer be my friend, but I prayed that something better might come of it.

“That is all for today everyone,” the professor said, clapping his hands together once, “I hope that most of your questions have been answered, and if not, please feel free to stay behind and I will do my best to clear anything up. Have a great day,” he explained before waving goodbye.

After Warnock dismissed the class, Ron and Harry got up quickly and exited the room without a word. I had never seen them leave so quickly before, even from their dreaded Potions class. Almost immediately, my mind raced over the boys and the note that was figuratively burning a hole into my hand. All my emotions returned to me, and I could feel the expression on my face tightening as I returned to a state of stress and unhappiness. I gathered my things slowly and quietly, firmly grasping the note in one of my hands. I had already decided where I would read the note in the utmost privacy before class had even ended: the library.

As I left the room with the last few students, I made eye contact, yet again, with none other than Draco Malfoy. Pansy was, of course, pressed to his side and looking at him longingly. I could not hide the sadness and confusion from my face as I looked at him. I could not quite read the expression he was emitting from his face. He looked confused as well, and I wondered if he knew what had happened. I also wondered to myself what would make me think he would care about any of it. Our eye contact was brief as I looked away to leave the room, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he watched me walk by.

I took an immediate left out of the classroom and headed for my personal haven. I was so grateful to finally be making my way towards the library, and just for two moments, I felt almost happy that I was headed towards it. It wasn’t long before I remembered everything that was haunting me. I walked a little faster, tuning out everything that was around me, only focusing on getting to my destination and reading the note.

Upon finally entering the gigantic hall, I felt immediately relaxed. Everything about the library was soothing: the endless books, the smell of aged bindings and glue and the incredible amount of knowledge that rested between only four walls Between the vast, long and deep rows of bookshelves, I knew that I would be able to find a location where I could be all by myself. There was already a gathering of recognizable students from my Potions class finding seats in the large room, and I almost immediately found Ron and Harry in this bunch of people. My heart raced as I looked down to my feet and passed quickly before escaping into the maze-like row of bookshelves. Despite my best attempt, I knew that the two of them had seen me pass because I could feel their eyes on me as I shuffled by. I knew that I would see them all the time, but it was exhausting, just the same. I found myself walking deeper and deeper into the library without a desire to stop. I just wanted to get as far away from everyone as possible.

I finally remembered why I was here, and it was still clamped in my fist. My eyes drifted to the closest seating at the very end of one of the aisles. I collapsed into the small armchair and took a look at the note in my hand. For the first time, I was reluctant to discover what its contents may be. Finally, I inhaled deeply and unfolded the small paper to read its what was inside. The note was smaller than I had expected it to be.

I will always be there for you, no matter what happens.
-Harry

For the first time in a long time, I felt relief. I swelled with happiness that Harry still considered himself a friend of mine, and more than anything, I wanted to hug him. I chewed my lip anxiously and I fought this urge with the image of Ron and Harry sitting together in the library. It was relieving to know that Harry supported me, but I really did not know how it was going to work because of Ron. I folded up the piece of paper carefully and placed it in my Potions book for safekeeping. For the first time since I sat down, I looked at vast amount of books in the aisle surrounding me. I stood up out of the armchair and gave the last section a closer look.

There was something about books that absolutely fascinated me. They all allow you to get lost in a different story. No two books are alike. In essence, they can be on similar topics, but the writing of two authors is never exactly the same. I really wanted to get lost in a good book. I happened to walk to the rather distinct section that was newly developing at Hogwarts; there was a section that included a few Muggle books. I had become acquainted with many of them because of my parents, like the classics: Shakespeare, Austen, Fitzgerald, Wharton and so much more. However, I was too involved in magic to have the desire to pick one up. For some reason, I was now overcome with the desire to read a different kind of novel, maybe a Muggle romance.

I began to search through classics and withdrew Romeo and Juliet from its place on the shelf. Most of the books were brand new, untouched and still smelled of crisp paper and ink. But Romeo and Juliet had definitely been read before, and several times at that. The binding was worn in several places and that certain new smell had faded.

“You know Granger, I don’t think it is healthy for you to be smelling books,” a boy stated flatly only a few feet away from me. I froze at the sound of his voice. I did not even have to turn to know that it was Draco standing behind me. I didn’t know how long he had been watching me or how he found me there, but he was there and more beautiful than ever.

I looked in his direction, my body frozen in shock that he was even in my presence talking to me. I briefly wondered how he had managed to peel Pansy off of his hip. My mind raced, I couldn’t think of anything to say. It felt as though my brain and mouth had disconnected as I looked at him blankly, searching for a reason.

Draco stood silently, looking directly at me as well, though he wasn’t glaring. His eyes were soft, confused, and twisted. He stood erect, with his hands at his sides and his body tense, just like I had always seen him. After a few excruciating moments, he slowly walked towards me and stopped only inches from me. I couldn’t recall a time we had been this close except for when we were on the train, and neither of us were shying away from one another just like before, despite how much bad blood had been exchanged between us in the past. Draco pursed his lips, and I swore that I sensed nervousness.

He proceeded by running his hands through his hair, his classic move, and then asking quietly, “What are you reading...?”

It may as well been a rhetorical question because there was no way I had the brain capacity to answer him. I continued to stare at him, dumbfounded and wide-eyed, searching his face for some sort of answer for all of his bizarre behavior.

Without another word, he wrapped his slender fingers around the book, carefully avoiding my hands, opened it to a random area in the beginning, and fingered through a few of the pages. My hands dropped to my sides as I watched him tentatively as he quietly skimmed random passages in Romeo and Juliet. This must have gone on for several minutes, and judging by the look on his face, Draco was searching for something in this book. He looked pretty acquainted with its contents. I watched him as he finally ended the silence. He quietly recited in a soft, flowing voice a few lines from Shakespeare’s classic play.

“I fear, too early; for my mind misgives

Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars,

Shall bitterly begin his fearful date of a despised life" *

He closed the book and lifted his head to look up at me. I searched his eyes over and over again, but couldn’t find anything. It was too unlike him, too sudden, too strange. He took a step closer to me and extended the book to my hands, and for a moment, I didn’t think I would have the energy to take it from him. After a little while, I lifted my hand and took the book back. I pressed it to my chest and wrapped both my arms around it, as though it was my armor.

I took a deep breath. Somehow, the words came to me. “Malfoy, what are you doing?’

He looked at me, blank faced. “Malfoy,” my voice was shaky and almost pleading, “what are you doing?” I repeated to him, my eyes darting across his perfect face.

For the first time, Draco looked uncomfortable. He thrust his hands in his pockets, took a deep breath, and shrugged. I felt my old self coming back.

“Don’t shrug at me. What is going on?” I asked, slightly less pleading and with a little more determination.

His eyebrows furrowed as he continued to watch me, “I...I don’t know.” The honesty in his voice hit me hard, but I persisted anyways.

“What do you mean you don’t know?!” He didn’t answer me, so I kept talking. I slowly became more furious as I spoke, though my heart was racing with lust just from his closeness. “I don’t understand how someone can go from staying away from me at all costs, calling me horrible names, and truly being a spiteful bastard to suddenly showing up all the time and talking to me. These little run ins have destroyed my friendships.... Ron and I broke up because of-”

“Wait, you and Weasel broke up?” Draco interrupted, suddenly interested.

“Yeah, what’s it to you?”

He ignored my question. “Why?”

As my mouth moved, I couldn’t even believe the words were coming out of my mouth. What was happening here? Why was I confiding in Draco Malfoy, of all bloody people?

“Ron accused me of cheating...with you.” I stated, and he watched me in silence for a while.

“Oh....” he said, suddenly looking away from me. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I couldn’t recall ever being more confused before in my life; not even the hardest classes compared to this.

“Where is Pansy, anyways? Why isn’t she sucking your face off at this moment?” I said sharply.

“Oh, I don’t know. She is spending this period with some of her friends. I’m enjoying the time away,” he said matter-of-factly. I scoffed. Then we were silent, enveloped in an awkward moment. I had never spoken to Draco so much in my life. I could have kept drilling him about what was going on, but I concluded that I wasn’t going to get any answers because he looked like he understood no more than I did at the moment.

“Are you the one that reads this book all the time?” I asked, shifting the book in my arms slightly.

“Why did you read me that passage?” I asked him softly. For the first time in what seemed like forever, he looked at me again and sighed. His eyes were deep and mysterious, studying my face similar to the way I was looking at his.

“It just seemed...fit.”

“Fit for what?” I questioned in a harsher tone. His broadness was beginning to piss me off.

He sighed again. And took a step closer to me. I reacted impulsively by taking a step back. When he approached me again, I responded with another step back. This time, my body was pressed against the bookshelf and he was only inches from me. My heartbeat was through the roof and I swore I could hear it beating in my ears. I gulped at his closeness. He took another small step towards me, but I had run out of room to back away. He took the book out of my hands and let it drop to the floor with a clunk. Not once did he take his eyes off of me.
 
“Look...I don’t know what is going on either. But I just feel so, suddenly...drawn to you,” he paused and just looked at me, his eyes grazing over my entire face. I felt so overwhelmed I thought I might pass out. “I can’t explain why...” Draco drifted off. When he stopped talking, I came to my senses.

“Malfoy,” I said, pushing him away from me, “back the hell off.” There was absolutely no way I was giving into him or his crap that easily.

“Granger, please,” he said in a cool tone.

“What do you want me to do? Just melt in your presence? I don’t think so,” I scoffed at him.

“Don’t do this,” he said, his tone frustrated.

“Don’t do what? I can’t stand you. No, correction. I hate you,” I said, choosing my words carefully.

“Oh yeah, and I just absolutely love being around you!” he said sarcastically, folding his arms across his chest. “We both know you are nothing but a dirty mudblood.”






“Do. Not. Call me that!” I spat at him angrily. I turned to leave, not even caring that I was leaving all of my books behind. All that mattered was that I was away from him.

“Granger, wait,” he said, reaching out towards me as I turned. I wanted to run, but instead he grabbed me, pushed me back against the bookshelf and spun me to face him all in one swift movement.

He stood there, mere inches from my face, and I could hardly breathe without having to remind myself to do so. I tried to focus on my anger towards him in order to keep myself focused on what mattered. He didn’t matter. My happiness mattered.

“I told you to back off. I will scream,” I threatened with force.

“Oh really? So Potter and Weasel can find you back here with me? That is probably the best idea ever!” He spat at me. I decided that I would test him. I opened my mouth and inhaled deeply. I watched him panic –only for a half a second- before he slapped his hand over my mouth with his quick reflexes. He stopped me before I even had a chance to do anything.

He placed his hand on my upper arm and pulled me further into the aisle in anger and frustration.

“Can you not cause a scene for once?” he said harshly. I glared at him, his hand still pressed over my mouth. I hated him so much. “I am not going to let go until you promise me you won’t scream.” I didn’t make any response; I just continued to glare at him angrily.

“Granger, please don’t scream, okay?” he said, “I am sorry for calling you that. I just want to talk to you.” I waited as he slowly peeled his hand off of my face.

“Talk? What like civilized people? Because that is what the two of us are, right?” I said sarcastically.

“Don’t pretend that you don’t see it, too,” he said to me.

“See what?” I responded. He raised his eyebrows at me, his expression softening again. He was definitely bipolar. His quick personality changes were making my head spin.

“See that we are…crossing paths a lot recently.”

“It’s been two days,” I said, refusing to admit that I knew exactly what he was talking about.

“I can just feel it, Granger. And I know that you can feel it, too,” he said, taking a step towards me. It didn’t take long before I was cornered against the bookshelf again.

“Don’t touch me Malfoy,” I said defensively.

“Will you just shut up for a second?” he asked me suddenly. I didn’t like how he spoke to me. I hated how he treated me. But for some reason, I listened to him. I didn’t say another word. He seemed content with my choice.

He took a deep breath and peeled his eyes away from mine. He was looking at is own hands, and I watched as they slowly made contact with my arms. I felt like an electric shock was going up my arms. As he worked his way up past my elbows, I could feel my hair standing on end. He wasn’t caressing me; he was merely exploring, trying to understand. His touch was exquisite: soft and cool, yet exhilarating. His hands rose all the way to my shoulders, before gliding along my collar bones and up my neck. My breath caught as he gently held my face in his hands. I was overcome with emotion and the sudden desire to kiss him. My mind was screaming not to, but something inside my chest was aching. He slowly inched closer to me, and my heart raced with the anticipation of our lips touching. I was too afraid to move, too afraid to touch him, worried that doing so might lead him to backing off. Despite this fear, Draco still could tell how eager I was, and he paused to address it.

“This is a bad idea,” he whispered bitterly. He seemed to be weighing what he was thinking of doing in head. I still couldn’t speak or put my own opinion into this because he had mesmerized me already, his eyes burning into mine. It’s not like I really had a choice, anyways. I knew how bad this was. and how incredible and fantastic and amazing it felt all at the same time. One second I wanted to push him away and vomit with disgust and the next I wanted to jump him, peel off his robes, and explore. The images and conflicting thoughts flashed through my head.

“Please...just don’t move, okay?” he said in a quiet but demanding tone. I nodded once and gulped. In the back of my head, I wanted to kick myself for continuing to listen to his direction, but I felt cemented in the spot where I stood.

And then he leaned closer to me and closed his eyes, tilting his head and bringing my face to gently to his. My eyes seemed frozen open in disbelief, and I kept them that way for as long as possible, just to make sure it was all really happening and I wasn’t just imagining it. After a few moments, I gave in and mimicked him, letting my eyes flutter shut in the heat of the moment. At first our lips just grazed one another’s, but then he pressed his fully to mine. Something deep inside me lit at my core and shot off in a million different directions. He pressed his lips to mine delicately. I immediately wanted to wrap my arms around him and pull him closer, but he was already pulling away. The kiss only lasted seconds, but it easily was better than all of my make out sessions with Ron combined. I had finally found fireworks. It was a simple peck, but it was something more than that, too.

He moved his face from mine and I watched him as he studied my face without a word. My cheeks flushed and my knees went weak as he stroked my cheeks with his cool thumbs. He pursed his lips as his eyes darted to different areas of my face. He looked as though he was trying to decide what he wanted to do next.

“I was just...seeing what it was like,” he said calmly, reassuring himself more than he was assuring me. He delicately let go of my face and dropped his hands to his sides. I looked at him with wide eyes, my cheeks flushed and my heart longing.

“Oh...my,” I said, bringing my fingertips to brush against the place where Draco and I had kissed. He watched me do this, the corners of his mouth turning down into a slight frown.

He took another step away from me and sat down on the armchair, his eyes looking directly ahead as he was deep in thought.

My head was spinning and since I no longer had a seat, I leaned against the bookshelf and slid down until I was on the floor. We were silent for a long time until I could no longer stand the quiet. “Are you okay?” I mumbled quietly.

“Yes.” He said to me flatly.

“What happened to the hostility, the hate, the grudges-” I started, my voice sounded like it was begging for truth, but he cut me off.

“Listen, Granger. I can’t deal with you right now,” his voice turned sharp, all too similar to the way I had heard him speak to me so many times before. His treatment of me suddenly seemed too good to be true.

“Okay...” I squeaked, hurt by his sudden tone change. He realized this and looked over at me on the ground.

“Don’t do that,” he stated, “Now listen to me. I just need you to stay away from me. I need to think...or try to understand...” his voice drifted off as he spoke.

“Okay...” I repeated, frowning slightly in his direction, still hurt. I looked down at the floor and studied the Romeo and Juliet book beside me. It had fallen open and face down on the ground and some pages were bent. I picked it up and smoothed out the folds with my fingers before holding it to my chest as I had done before Draco dropped it to the floor.

He got up from the chair and crouched down so that he was near to the ground, though touching it only with the bottoms of his exceptionally clean shoes. He gently took the book from me once again, but this time, placed it into the pocket of his cloak. I looked at him, confused and somber and elated. He took both of my hands in his and pulled me off of the floor.

“Thanks,” I said quietly, not having much of a voice considering the circumstances. I could not say much else; for I could not find the words or the courage to stop worrying that I would continually say the wrong things to him. He was so touchy and so unpredictable that I didn’t know what to do. Draco let go of my hands and they dropped to my sides. He took a step towards the entrance into the aisle. He had showed up out of nowhere and now he was leaving without explaining himself. I wanted answers. It seemed that all we were doing was looking at each other for explanation and reasoning for why were suddenly so drawn to one another. That’s all I had discovered about him in the last five minutes. He was just as curious as I was. He sighed and took a deep breath to speak again.

“So that’s it? You are just going to leave?” I asked in disbelief, both hurt and frustrated with him.

“I...I can’t talk to you anymore. Not right now, at least. Just stay away from me. Okay?”

I was so confused. All I could do was nod. He was suddenly acting as if I wouldn’t be able to stay away from him in the future. What other choice did I have, really?

“Good,” he said, nodding once, as if to say, conversation over. “I need to go.”

He met eyes with me one last time, and his expression was unreadable, just like it was most of the time I looked at him. He was grimacing at me ever so slightly, and my heart sunk when I noticed this. Was he trying to torment me with his mind games? Draco took a step away and began to back away from me and headed in the direction he had come from.

“Bye,” I breathed in his direction, hopelessly, my voice weak. He didn’t say another word; Draco gave a curt nod, turned on his heel and disappeared from sight. I backed to the armchair and sunk onto the cushion, my mouth wide open in disbelief and confusion.

I honestly did not know where he had come from, where he was going, what he thought of me, or what was going through his mind. It was the most infuriating feeling ever. And now all I had to do was wait for him to gain understanding of why he decided to pin me to the bookshelf and kiss me. My heart fluttered faintly at the thought. Despite everything that had propelled him to kiss me, I allowed the smallest of smiles to escape from my lips at that moment. Those few seconds where our lips touched were permanently embedded into my mind. For just a few minutes, I forgot who he had been and what he had said to me, and got completely lost in the memory of our gentle kiss that had taken place only feet from where I sat now.





Whether or not you are also an author on HPFF, you know how rewarding it feels to have someone recognize your work. Reviewing would only take a few moments and means the world to me.

LL

*Footnote: Shakespeare. R&J Act 1, Scene 4.



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