Feeling does not mean believing

Did I ask why Malfoy kissed me? No. Would it make my life better if I did? Absolutely. For the past few days, the scene from that night played in my head on repeat; the night where Malfoy-for the lack of better words and probably slightly in slight exaggeration-turned my world upside down.

I had to admit that my heart was racing after he set me loose. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. My mind went completely blank and all I could do at the moment was staring at him in utter disbelief. I knew I should've said - or better, yelled - something along the lines of 'what in Merlin's name do you think you are doing', or hexed him, or swung my fist like what Ron did.

But nope, I just stared at him.

Malfoy smiled. And once again, it was the kind of smile that I had no idea what intentions lay behind it. Perhaps he used this as a tactless prank to see my reaction.

Or perhaps, he meant it.

No. Not a chance. No way. Absolutely not. He did not mean it. He was Draco Malfoy, the boy who hated me for as long as I remembered. How could he have any feelings other than resentment for me? And just moments ago, he said he didn't even like me.

"Malfoy." All I managed to say was his name.

"Life is surely strange, isn't it?" That smile was lingered on his thin lips, and I couldn't help but stare at them before he lifted my chin and forced me to meet his deep grey eyes. "It's alright, Granger, you don't have to say anything."

Then he kissed me again.

I hadn't the slightest clue of what emotions I was experiencing under that star-dazzled night sky.

***

Malfoy and I never talked about it. He acted like nothing out of the line had happened and I acted like I didn't care at all when in reality, I couldn't stop thinking about it. He still mocked my friends whenever he got the chance, and I was still stuck with him most of the time during the day.

The weekend finally rolled around, and I was more than grateful to be able to spend time with my friends, and by 'my friends', I really just meant Ginny. Ron was still upset about what happened, and so was I. Should I apologize to him? I didn't know. And as bad as I felt, I didn't want to. It had been a few months since Ron and I parted ways, yet I still wasn't sure whether I'd come to terms with it.

Sitting in the Three Broomsticks with Ginny across the table from me and quietly drinking butterbeer, I heard Ron's voice in the distance. I looked over and saw him with Lavender, sitting by the window not that far from us and talking joyfully like all the other real couples.

"I'm sorry, I know it had been hard for you," Ginny sighed, "but seriously, it's time to let go."

"I had already let go," I lied and shifted my sight from the happy couple to Ginny. "And I've found my own happiness."

"I hope you are right about Malfoy," Ginny's brows tied into a tight knot. "Even though no matter how hard I try, I can't wrap my head around what you see in him. However, well, as long as you think you're happy, I suppose I should be happy for you. That's what friends are for, right?"

She chuckled dryly and took a large gulp of her butter beer.

I chuckled too and didn't speak further on this matter. Suddenly, a chill traveled down my spine as I began to realize the lie I helped to create had gradually begun to spiral out of control.

***

The only time Ron and I spoke after the day he punched Malfoy was when I came across him playing chess with Harry in the common room after Ginny and I came back from Hogsmeade.

He showed no desire to engage in any conversation with me other than a polite greeting. I responded to his pleasantry with a half-nod. Ginny shook her head and exchanged a look with Harry. And when I was about to head to the dorm, he called out to me.

"Hermione," he took off his glasses and wiped the lenses with his shirt, "and Ron. Whatever this is, it needs to stop. The two of you need to make peace."

"I will if I receive a proper apology," I said. The words came out more bitter than I had intended.

"How much longer will you continue to play the victim?" Ron didn't lift his eyes from the chessboard.

"Excuse me?"

"It's about time for you to quit playing the victim," Ron slammed both of his hands on the table and spun in his seat so that he could face me. The slamming wasn't loud at all, but I was deeply startled and unsettled. He continued broodingly: "Look, I've lost count of how many times I've explained myself to you. We've gone through the same things over and over and over and over again. You said you were profoundly upset and needed time to heal. Is dating Malfoy your way to heal? You hated him and he hated you. And that's not some petty resentment either. Trust me when I tell you I want you to be happy, because I really do. But let me ask you this: are you with Malfoy because you like him, or are you with him to spite me because I moved on first?"

I froze. Ron's words were more powerful than the freezing charm. My legs wouldn't move no matter how desperately I wanted to run upstairs and hide under my blanket.

Was he right? I didn't want him to be right. I refused to believe he was right. 

"That's too much!" Ginny raised her voice. She walked up to be in haste and wrapped her arms around me. "Let's go, Hermione. That's enough."

I still couldn't move. My mind was swirling, and I felt sick. I wanted to scream, to yell at him for being cruel, though I knew I didn't have to right to do so.

"Ron, what was that?" Harry said wide-eyed. He took a moment to compose himself, put his glasses back on and said: "Hermione, I think you understand the reason behind our shock and confusion when we only found out you are dating Malfoy on the first day of school while you've been together since the summer break. Don't you think we deserve to know before the rest of Hogwarts?"

"I…" I murmured. "I…I need to go."

I left the common room, despite having no idea where I should go.

And that was how I ended up outside the Slytherin common room. This time, with the courage and the shamelessness I didn't know where I had gathered from, I asked a passing by Slytherin to get Malfoy for me.

A short moment later, Malfoy appeared before me with a tinge of confusion blended into his usual smugness.

"How can I help you?" He asked with his hands in his pockets. "You've been looking for me quite often these days, Granger, what's the matter?"

I didn't respond. Instead, I bit my bottom lip and looked at him with complicated emotions. I was upset. I felt guilty. I didn't know what to do or think. I wanted to talk to someone, but I had no one. I had no one but Malfoy. What a tragedy.

"Seriously, Granger, what's wrong? You're scaring me." Malfoy took a step closer. His tone changed from his typical arrogance to slight concern.

"I never thought I'd be asking you this," I chuckled self-deprecatingly while trying my hardest to hold back tears, "well, can…can you…"

My voice trailed off as my heart began to pound faster and faster.

"Just say it," his tone grew more concerned. "It's fine. Just say it."

"Can you spend some time with me if you are not busy?" I blurted it out and immediately turned my head to the side.

From the corner of my eye, I saw him quietly sigh out of relief.

"There were a lot of things you said you'd never say to me, and did it anyway," he wouldn't let the opportunity to mock me slide, although he didn't sound malicious. "Sure, I guess spending some time with you is better than listening to Blaise talking about his strange obsession over exotic species of evergreens."

There was no way for Blaise Zabini to be interested in evergreens. It was a lie; a weak one too.

I chose not to question him.

We were sitting with our backs against the railings on the top of the observatory again. Malfoy's shoulder was almost touching mine. I wouldn't have been comfortable if he was this close this morning. Now, however, for no particular reason, I found myself wanting him to be close. 

Was it because I pathetically wanted to have someone around me? Perhaps. But I could care less. I didn't care that it was Draco Malfoy sat quietly next to me and listened as I poured my heart out. It didn't matter. I needed to talk to someone, and he happened to be here.

"What can I say to make you realize that you're only hurting yourself if you refuse to let go?" His gentle tone took me by surprise. He exhaled deeply, propped his elbow on his bent knee and supported the side of his face on the back of his hand. "And I don't mean letting go of Weasley. I mean to let go of your stubbornness."

I frowned.

"What if he was right?" His tone remained soft. "What if you are spiting him because you didn't like how he's moved on before you?"

I looked up to the ink-colored sky and mumbled: "Maybe I'm just having a hard time because I hate when things are out of my control."

"I don't blame you. I'm the same," he sounded genuine. "We've probably spent more time together recently than the past seven years combined, and against my wishes, I must admit that you are not as horrible as I thought. And as I've told you before, if you lucky enough, you may even find someone who's less poor."

"Someone who's less poor? Like you?" I said without thinking. I didn't know what had gotten into me to make me say such a thing, and now I was too terrified and embarrassed to look at him or hear what he had to say.

"We'll see about that," he chuckled. I couldn't tell the exact emotion behind that chuckle. What I could tell was that it wasn't out of conceitedness or sarcasm.

I didn't know what I wanted from him, and I certainly hadn't the slightest clue on what he wanted from me. Having him around was convenient - convenient to spend time together and convenient to fall in love with.

Finally, I dared to lift my head. I couldn't read him, nor did I want. Trying to dissect that complicated look on his slender face was pointless since in this moment, nothing mattered much anymore. I reached over to touch his cheek. Though there was astonishment in his gray eyes, he didn't move.

I let the selfish side of me win. If the whole contract thing was nothing but a game, I wanted to play it to the fullest.

"M-Draco, kiss me," I said.

The left corner of his mouth lifted. He pressed his forehead on mine. His hand traveled from the back of my head to my neck, and I could feel the warmth of his breath as he said:

"Granger, do you know that you're an interesting creature?"

He didn't give me time to respond. Under the pale moonlight and amongst the frosty air that uniquely belonged to fall, Draco Malfoy's lips once again, touched mine.