Love and Other Misfortunes

Chapter 13

Hermione could feel her cheeks burning as she finished speaking. She didn't know why she was blushing. Here she was, sitting across from a man who was head over heels, willing to walk through hell, in love with her and she felt embarrassed admitting she was in love with him too.

Draco was staring at her with wide eyes, his entire face was frozen. He looked like he'd seen a—well, not a ghost. Because, really, who hadn't seen one? But something very unpleasant and surprising. Like—a resurrected Voldemort.

Yes.

That about captured his expression.

He looked nearly ready to fall over from shock.

It was not the reaction she had been hoping for.

"That's—that's not possible," he finally said, slowly.

She gave him a look. "Draco, I wouldn't lie about this just to make you feel better. I've thought it over carefully."

He was very pale.

"But—we talked about this." His tone was firm but there was a barely discernible tremor beneath it. "You talked to my mother about this. Last week. You—did not have any feelings for me then."

"Well. I don't remember what my thought process was at the time." She shot him a glare. Being obliviated was going to be a sore subject for her for a very long while. "But I don't think that, in the context of learning you were dying and that I needed to bond with you to save you, I would have realised it. I would have been preoccupied with research and trying to wrap my head around everything. I wouldn't have been focused on my feelings were aside from whether I thought I could do it."

Draco still looked doubtful and terrified. His eyes were huge as he stared at her.

"I mean—it's not like it was a conscious decision I made," she added, folding her arms defensively. "Really, it is very much against my better judgment. You're terribly mean to me most of the time. This probably says truly awful things about my self-esteem or something."

Draco made a choking sound. He looked about to pass out.

Hermione reached out and took his hand.

"Draco, when I came here last night, I was sure of it. Even though you've been about as friendly as a porcupine and never did anything but taunt me when we weren't working; when it came to all the things that mattered to me most; all the times that I needed someone most; you were always there. And—that made me fall for you. But I took you for granted so I didn't realise it—not until I thought you were going to leave and—I felt like my heart was breaking."

He shuddered, his expression growing visibly pained, his eyes still wide and doubtful.

Hermione gripped his hand more tightly and leaned forward so that their faces were only a breath apart. Their eyes were locked on one another.

"Draco Malfoy," she whispered, "I love you."

He shook at the words. As though something deep inside him had broken.

Hermione moved even closer to him, not caring anymore about holding the sheet up.

He didn't believe her.

Couldn't bring himself to.

She could tell.

In some ways she could hardly believe it herself.

Emotions really weren't her forte. Especially not romantic ones. However, being in love with him felt different from any other feeling she'd ever experienced. Overwhelmingly certain. Perhaps because of the suddenness with which it had struck her. It hadn't been a conscious, growing thing that she'd had months and years to mull over along the way. It had been so secret and slow, and then all at once she just—knew.