Chapter Nine

Draco

"Fine," Ron spits, backing away, "be in love with him. See if I care. And when he starts calling you Mudblood again, Hermione, don't come crying to me." He turns around and exits the Quidditch pitch, sneering. Hermione is still standing in front of me protectively, her wand brandished, and her hair flowing in the wind.

"I'm sorry," She whispers, turning to face me, and she grabs my arm. I flinch. "He did that, didn't he?" I nod.

She looks into my eyes intently, and I do the same. Her hair is tousled, her skin paler than usual. I want to tell her how beautiful she looks, describe every feature word for word, but I realize what she must be thinking.

"You probably think I'm such a coward, Hermione, I'm so sorry-" I say, but she cuts me off, gently placing a hand on my shoulder. My heart begins to beat a little faster.

"I could never think that, Draco. You couldn't defend yourself because you didn't have your wand." She assures me, and my heart beats faster yet.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. For everything." I say, and I place my hand on the side of her face. Surprisingly, she doesn't look alarmed. Her skin is cold and soft.

Suddenly, I'm struck with an insane amount of both courage and lack of self-control. I lean in and kiss her.

Instantly, it feels as if my heart is perfectly capable of beating out of my chest. A shock seems to course through my skin, and my nerves are on edge. I half-expect her to pull away, but she doesn't. In fact, she does the opposite: she wraps her arms around my shoulders.

When I pull away, I keep my eyes closed. I'm scared to see the look on her face. She'll be angry at me for kissing her. Maybe she'll hate me again. But perhaps, even though it's not preferable, it would be okay because I would have these few seconds of happiness. Perhaps I can freeze this moment and dwell on it forever.

But when I do open my eyes, when only our foreheads are touching, that's not what I see it all. Her face reflects my own elation, and she's displaying a scintillating smile. I do the same, and she laughs a bit. I wish I could memorize the way she looks at me: her chocolate eyes shining, her nose crinkled as she laughs. My heart swells, and I pull her into a tight, lingering hug. Her head is buried into my shoulder, and it starts to rain.

So this is what happy feels like.

It seems that we're both speechless. For a while, neither of us say anything. But finally, when our hug ends, I decide to speak.

"Turns out studying isn't the only thing you're good at," I joke, and she laughs. On a more serious note, I add, "I thought you'd be angry with me." She looks astounded.

"You thought I'd be angry with you for ," She asks, "Trust me, there's nothing I've wanted more these past few days." I smile at her, but nothing can express the happiness I feel in this moment.

"Dinner?" I ask her, draping my arm around her shoulders. She nods, grinning, something neither of us seem to be able to stop doing.

The rain is steadily falling, and it's audible as it lands in the Black Lake. I look around for anyone who may be watching, but no one seems to be. Sensible people don't spend their time in the rain, besides Hermione and me, but we have an excuse.

"Draco," She touches my arm that's wrapped around her shoulder, and I minutely jump. I wonder if I'll ever get used to her touch.

"Yes?"

"Thanks for teaching me- or attempting to, rather- to fly. That was really sweet," She says, blushing.

"It was no problem. Besides, I got my reward," I respond, squeezing her shoulder tighter.

"Oh, Draco," She laughs, leaning her head on my shoulder, "you're cheesy."

"I try," I respond, and we're in the castle again, walking to the Great Hall. Thankfully, no one else is in the corridor. We're a bit late for dinner, but it doesn't matter. When we reach the door that leads into the Great Hall, we break apart, and I sigh. I'm about to push open the door, but she grabs my hand, stopping me.

"What's wrong?" She asks, standing in front of me.

There seem to be two different parts of me right now. One part is extremely elated, and knows that just those few moments with Hermione will keep me perpetually happy. Just a few seconds ago, I was embracing that part of me. Now, the other part- the sad, lonely part- seems to have taken over. It reminds me that no matter what happens between Hermione and I, it will only change our relationship, and the other aspects of my life will stay the same.

I wish we could've stayed on that Quidditch pitch forever.

"I'm just not exactly looking forward to going in there and sitting alone, that's all," I answer, looking down the corridor.

"Draco, we don't have to go, I wouldn't mind-"

"No," I cut her off, "you don't have to do that. Go on, your friends are waiting for you." She looks back at the door and at me again.

"Draco-"

"Go on, Hermione. I'll be in there in a few minutes." I implore.

She gives me a longing look, and I flash her a smile. She turns around and disappears through the door into the Great Hall.

I walk away from it, towards our common room. Just for a few minutes, I need to be alone to think, and to try something that has been weighing on my mind for a while now.

On my way, I wonder how Hermione's acting around her friends. Did she tell them? Is she being sheepish? And the ultimate question: what are we now? Are we together, or are we just friends?

All of these questions tug at my mind as I reach the door, draw the pattern, and go inside. It's just as we left it, obviously; no one else can get in. My wand is on the table, beside a book I was reading earlier. I pick it up.

Since we were assigned the Defense Against the Dark Arts project, I've been curious about my Patronus. I've never conjured one before; I've never had a memory happy enough. Lately, I've been wondering quite a bit about it. Now I just might have a memory happy enough to create one.

Sighing, I brandish my wand, pointing it into the air. I close my eyes, letting the memory of what just happened a few minutes ago consume me. As I relive it, my stomach flutters just as it did in that moment, and a smile forms on my lips.

"" I yell, and I open my eyes. I am greeted by a burst of silver light that's prancing out of the tip of my wand. I wait in astonishment to see what animal will form. When it does, I am dumbfounded.

A lion. The symbol of Slytherin's "enemy" house. The symbol of Hermione's house.

I watch in amazement as it saunters across the room, its silver, glimmering mane flowing. It's so majestic, so powerful. It ventures over and makes a circle around me protectively before descending back into my wand. I scoff happily.

According to my watch, dinner will be over in about fifteen minutes, so I put my wand in my robe pocket and exit the room. The image of my Patronus seems to be imprinted on the back of my eyelids; every time I blink, I see it.

People have started emerging into the corridor. On my way down, I pass Yaxley, who pokes my shoulder with overwhelming enthusiasm.

"Mr. Malfoy!" He exclaims.