title. parchments
summary. this stiff, yellowish paper is good at hiding the truth.
disclaimer. harry potter is j. k. rowling's forever and always.
Pushing you away. It feels like the right thing to do.
She just stares at the piece of parchment in her hands. Something is poking and crushing her heart, and she tries to look impassive. Say yes, you idiot! A small voice is trying to reason with her.
But no. She can't. She can't afford to take the fall. She can't let herself get hurt. She can't let herself get away.
Placing the former note in the table, she tears a piece from another parchment in front of her, too dazed to realize that it was her Potions essay. She dips her quill in the ink and hesitates.
Then she scrawls the following words:
No, I can't. I'm kinda busy, there's an upcoming Arithmancy exam this week.
Hermione
Another excuse, another lie. If things continue to be this way, she has to come up with better excuses just to avoid him.
Can he not see it? She's falling for him. It is dangerous, considering all the reasons. She is nothing to him. She is just a friend, an acquaintance, and nothing more. Damn his good looks, damn the way he holds her hand, damn the way he makes her feel like this, and a lot of other damnations runs through her head.
She remembers how everything happened, how she started feeling this way. She feels her heart somewhat skip a beat at the thoughts, but sink almost instantly to her stomach when her thoughts go back to reality.
However hard it is to accept that he will never reciprocate her feelings and that staying away is for her own good, everything must be smoothed out. Hermione Granger, the smartest witch of her age, cannot afford to be hurt by some boy, especially him.
She lays her quill down and reads the words again. She takes a deep breath and rolls the small piece of parchment. There is a flick of her wand, and the note is sent to its recipient.
She picks up her quill again and goes back to her work, desperately willing her heart to calm down. She tries to avoid looking at the piece of parchment slightly hidden under her Potions essay, which says:
Hermione,
Hogsmeade, with me, this weekend?
DM
Somewhere, across the Great Hall, Draco Malfoy frowns at the piece of parchment in his hand. His eyes scans the Gryffindor table, and finds what he iss looking for. There she is, busy. Again.
There is a nagging thought in his mind, but he pushes it off.
There iss no way Granger's avoiding him. No way.
Something suddenly tugs at his heart at the thought.
It is as clear as day that there is no way she is in love with him too.