There are days when I absolutely hate you. There are days when I'm the exact opposite and love your company. There are days when you utterly despise me. There are days when you adore me.
There are times when we're happy, crazy, and careless. We do whatever, whenever, wherever. There are times when we're feuding, totally raring to have a go at each other just to get our point across.
On those days, I try so hard to fight my tears and to appear strong so as not to irritate you, because I know how much you hate seeing girls cry. But when I try to make it all better and put the pieces back into the puzzle, it's as if you've gone and fetched the scissors only to cut the pieces into shreds that seem impossible to repair.
Today is one of those days…
I'd been hurrying to the library to get some reading done when I saw you. I grinned; you were strutting, yes, strutting down the corridor, sans the cronies, with that cocky smirk on your face. I assumed you had aced that test you'd been so anxious to get back that I jumped in your way to ask. That was when I'd forgotten that you'd rather us not speak in public. That was when everything went wrong.
"So, how'd you do?" I asked, barely able to hide the fact that I was overjoyed to see you today.
Instantly, your look of pure joy hardened into your icy façade, complete with the all-too familiar scowl. For a second, all my hope seemed to return when I found the slightest flicker of cheer in your eyes, but it all vanished when you began speaking in such harsh tones.
"What do you want from me?" you growled.
"Crikey, someone's ticked off." I answered. You frowned and hissed something back.
"I reckon you should scarper along now… Mudblood."
Even though you had taken a pause before saying it, I don't think it has ever hit me that hard before. I was taken aback and after a long silence, I shouted, "Why don't you snuff it, you gormless pillock!" I ran to the library and grumbled as I picked out my books and complained about how you'd ruined the perfect day.
After about an hour of contemplation alone in the library, I figured that I thought too highly of you. You being you, I don't think that you think anyone can think too highly of you. Yet, I expected more from you than you'd probably expected to give. But explain how every time my mind blanks and I can't think of anything, the first thing that comes to mind is… you.
Right now, you probably think I'm selfish or insecure or have low self-esteem. Ha, me with low self-esteem! Yes, that's right, I am. I'm selfish in the way that I hate how girls stare and chase after you when I'm around. I'm insecure in the way that I hate not having you there when I'm alone and I need you to back me up. I have low self-esteem in the way that I hate being almost perfect for everyone, when I know I'm perfect for you.
You could also say I'm hateful. I hate the way you react when I make you mad. I hate the way you ignore me when I'm trying to make a statement. I hate the way you stare at me blankly after I've said something that sounds moronic. I hate the way that you treat me like I'm not worth your time when I know that deep in your heart, you know I'm worth your every minute.
So as I try to get over my grief and get on with my day, you suddenly appear, like a hero saving me from the fiery pits of Hades. You stride towards me with a blank face, but I can see that your eyes say something else.
Wordlessly, you bring forth light pink roses and a bag of my favorite truffles from Honeydukes. Without saying so much as a word, you have brought tears to my eyes, tears of joy from my eyes shining with love and appreciation.
"I'm sorry!" We exclaim simultaneously. We share an awkward laugh until you set aside the roses and the chocolate and embrace me.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Hermione." You tell me.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Draco."
So it's one of those days. I'm trying once again to pick up the pieces, to put them in the right way all together again, but this time, I'm not alone because you're picking them up with me.