The Painting

My father, Lucius Malfoy, looks straight into my eyes with deep distaste, which has become as plain as vanilla considering this whole thing mostly happens everyday. He has been chewing me out for hours now because I once again lost to that toffee-nosed Harry Potter who's full of himself and so overbearing.

Not this again, I thought. But as I have said before, it has always been like this. My father cannot help himself from setting me side by side with Potter who's too big for his boots.

"You are a disgrace to this family!" he says, his eyes still fixed on mine. "I never thought my son was as incapacitated as those Hufflepuffs. If only I could replace you with someone who's so much better than you are, I would have done it without letting the grass grow under my feet!" He turns around and continues to give me a telling-off as tears start to form in my eyes. I try hard not to let go of these tears that might lay the foundations of another set of family drama.

I don't respond no matter how hurt I am on the inside. I make an effort not to let out what I am feeling right now because it will make things so much worse. Besides, I have become accustomed to the whole thing-having my father read me the Lucius's Wizarding Act and given a mouthful. I have become accustomed to people whirling past me without asking me how I am doing. Everyone has friends he can talk to. But me? Apart from Crabbe and Goyle who happen to be airheads, I have got no one. Even the woman I have set my heart on is taken by someone who happens to be less than I am. Getting measured up is one thing, but not getting the girl of your dreams is so much especially when you lose that girl to someone who's not as worthy as Ron Weasley is.

"Are you listening to me, you gutless Slytherin?" He takes away my wand that I have been playing with as he talks to me and he repeats his question as if I didn't hear him earlier.

I nod my head slowly. Thankfully, my father leaves me alone, though he continues to mutter something I can hardly understand.

I get out of my bed and I get myself ready for my next class. I look in the mirror to see someone who looks pained-someone who seems to have experienced so many things in his life despite his young age. Draco Malfoy-the boy who is hated by his father for being such a crap. Draco Malfoy-the boy who always loses to The Harry Potter and to his best buddy. Draco Malfoy-the boy who doesn't have the guts to confess his feelings for the girl he has always fancied since the very first time he met her. I extremely feel bad for myself. People think of me like I am always a bear with a sorehead. I may be narky most of the time but believe me, there's this soft spot in me even I cannot believe I have.

As soon as I get out of my room, I see something different. There's this door that I have not seen the whole time I have been here. It seems to be pulling me closer as if the door were on pins and needles to tell me something. I make my way towards it out of curiosity.

I reach for the handle and I realize something. It is a painting.

After realizing how stupid I acted a few moments ago, I hit the painting a few times, which feels good after having a têtà-a-tête with my father-after he made me realize how Harry Potter and his friend always turn me inside out.

"What are you doing?" I hear someone say. I turn around and I realize whose voice it is. "Why weren't you in Herbology? Why aren't you in Defense Against the Dark Arts? Have you been cutting classes?"

"The fact that you're here means you've been cutting classes as well, haven't you?" I say, curling my lip. Hermione Granger hits me with one of her books, which also happens to be the thickest and heaviest of all the books tightly clasped in her arms. "Have you got no mercy?"

Hermione Granger is as beautiful as ever. But not only is she bewitching and smashing and drop-dead gorgeous, she's also a lady who has a good head on her shoulders. I, a lad who is slow on the uptake, cannot help but be amazed at her being whip-smart.

Hermione brings me back to life and I realize I have been drooling. I quickly wipe the drool off my face and she dissolves into a fit of giggles. "I never thought a moronic dingbat like you would drool over a boring witch like me." She breaks up again.

Is this the right time to tell her about my feelings? Will this make me less loser than Ron Weasley? I have been waiting for this moment for so long and I do think that now is the perfect time to tell Hermione what I have been dying to tell her.

"Hermione, I never thought I would fall for someone like you as well," I say and she looks me in the eye. She looks like she's unable to believe her eyes. Who would have thought that the grumpy Draco Malfoy who always teases her every time he sees her would actually fall for her whom he thinks is as plain as vanilla? "I was wrong all this time about you, Granger. You're not boring and dull and whatever adjective you find suiting here. Every single time I see you, I stop dead in my tracks. I cannot help but puff and pant as I fix my gaze on you. I have loved you all this time but I hadn't had the courage until now."

Hermione still looks as if she were at a loss for words, which is ironic considering she never loses something to say when reciting in class. She turns around and I pull her into a very tight hug but she struggles to get herself away from me as if she couldn't stomach my touch.

"I like someone else," she says, facing me. I see tears forming in her eyes and they start gushing down her beautiful face a few seconds after. "And no one can ever tear us apart. Draco, I don't hate you. You are a very nice wizard but I'm afraid I cannot give you what you want. I'm afraid that I won't see you more than a friend even in the fullness of time."

I look down as I take in all her words.

"We're actually in the same boat, Draco," she says and I look at her with great wonder in my eyes. "I haven't told Ron about how I feel towards him. He thinks I hate him when in fact I love him more than a friend loves her friend. This painting that you thought was a door is saying something. There's this something that keeps me from telling him what I feel towards him. Until now, I still have not got the courage to tell him and I'm afraid I might end up like you. I'm afraid I might end up saying it when it's already too late-when he's already taken by someone."

Hermione pulls me into a very tight hug like I did before and that's when I start crying my eyes out. Why does it have to be me? Why do I always end up getting hurt by the people I love? Why didn't I have the courage I ought to have had? Why now when it is already too late?

Hermione lets go of me and she leaves me without saying another word.

I breathe in and out as I look at the painting I thought was a door. I realize how wretched I am now because of that door that had been keeping me from telling Hermione about my feelings. I realize how this door had been keeping me from moving on about always losing to Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

I scream and in a few moments, I see Filch's cat staring back at me.