Nothing cannot impede love. Once love occurs, there are only two factors: the commitment of both lovers. Circumstances, distances, time, anything: they cannot change the bind between two.
Midnight. The Gryffindor boys have finally passed out in their beds, signaling the time for business. I tip-toe down to the Slytherin portrait, draped in Harry's Invisibility Cloak. Getting caught will guarantee future death threats. But I must win the bet.
At the end of the hall, a towering boy gazes out an equally lengthy window. He is alone. Outside, fog envelops all of Hogwarts grounds, except the full moon, shimming from its hiding place in the clouds. Its creamy color blends with his messy hair. I throw off the Invisibility Cloak.
"Malfoy," I whisper.
He swivels around to glare at me, his robes swaying. His concrete eyes are wide like the moon, but then shrink to their usual slits once he opens his mouth. "What?"
I suck air into my mouth, as if through an invisible straw. "Well, hate to admit it, but I need a favor."
"Draco Malfoy, 'slimiest of all Slytherins', helping you?" Draco laughs, shifting his attention to the floating moon once again.
"Don't you have to uphold your resourceful reputation?" His laugh, longer than it needs to be, slithers across corridor.
I sigh. "Of course, what was I thinking? Never mind then." I head back down the corridor.
"C'mon Granger, tell me," he calls out to me. Footsteps are my only reply.
Around the corner, before I hit the moving staircase, quick footsteps echo behind me. "Fine, fine. What is it?"
One of perk of a friendship with Hagrid is full access to school grounds. A sub perk of that is discovering places where no one will find you.
"First, you ask me for my help. Now you're breaking school rules? What happened to you, Granger?" I just shake my head, focusing on the open field ahead of us. The grass dances in the moonlight, tangoing with the breeze.
Draco's mouth transforms into a thin line with curved endpoints, the top of each lip vanishing: the famous Malfoy smirk. "Must be too much quality time with Weasely."
"A year isn't that long, Malfoy," I say, folding my arms against my chest, "but probably not to you."
"I can hold a relationship, Granger," he seethes, stomping towards me. He almost jabs me my face with his. We're so close I can see little speckles on his cheeks ripen. "Watch your tongue."
His face turns from mine. We walk beside each other: not too close, not too far. We've always been that way. I think I know him, but honestly judging only gets you so far.
Our eyes meet: cold gray eyes find soft brown eyes. He takes his first step into the field. I plunge into the wave of green, joining him.
We continue walking, the distance between us wavering. Sometimes he will lead, sometimes I match his pace.
A clearing in the field stops us. "Does this work?" I ask.
He doesn't answer. His broom floats up against his palm, slightly diagonal to the ground. His voice raises over the rustling of the grass. "Watch."
He lifts a leg over the broom, pushing down in the middle so he may sit. For a moment, he hovers there, his feet grazing the tips of the grass. Then he reclines back with a breath. He shoots his chest forward, zipping into the navy sky. He accelerates through the air, his hair ruffling in the wind. It seems he's dodging all the stars in his way, darting here and there throughout the sky. Up there, I catch him swerving. With closed eyes. He is just smiling, tilting his body left and right, like a tree encountering wind. Goosebumps circulate across my body from watching him. Instead of my previous experience with brooms-abrupt, frightening and especially, uncontrollable-his flying seemed like the kind of dream you wake up from and go back to sleep just to experience again. Shutting my eyes, I feel the wind twisting and lifting my body through the air, my inhibitions poofed away. I picture myself riding wind currents, free.
The materialized scene evaporates, my eyes opening to Draco nose-diving down beside me, decreasing his speed as he lands beside me.
"Ready?" I open my hands before him to accept the broom. Butterflies, like confetti, burst up through my stomach, rattling my ribcage. With the broom below me, I teeter backward. Unprepared, I fall back into his chest.
"Oomph!" We both tumble to the ground. We laugh, our bodies engulfed in grass.
I stand there, a little shocked from hearing him laugh so genuinely. He doesn't notice. "Clumsy, aren't we?" Draco drawls, his eyes following me as I go to stand up.
He doesn't stop. "Yes, now quit giving me that look!" A single laugh dissipates from his lips, then gets up.
"Why don't we try again," he says. I return to takeoff position, not leaning back too far to retain an upright posture. Gripping the top of the broom, I push down, expecting the broom to move. Expectations, unfortunately, aren't always the outcome: the broom stays still.
Draco takes my hands and presses them harder on the broom. "Like this." I jerk forward, the tips of my toes in the grass, barely above the ground.
"I'm so scared right now," I whisper, studying the air around me. No wind. No precipitation. Perfect flying weather. "I don't think I can do this."
"Of course you can, Miss Perfect," he says, tapping the straws of the broom. "You just have to think you can."
My wide eyes adhere to the end of the broom. I can do this. It's easy. Just push a little, Hermione.
I launch into the sky, cutting through the air. I loosen my grip on the broom, slowing down. The stars seem within arms reach as I glide through the air, my hair whipping behind me. All the due dates, fights with Ron and insecurities vanish. I look down at Draco. He's running a hand in his almost-white hair, a tiny smile on his face. I never see him proud for anyone other than himself. I find myself smiling too, my cheeks now dressed in a cherry red. The first time I saw him this year he was doing the same-trying to hide his smile. I don't know what made him so happy, but he really needs more reasons to smile.
Looking up at me, his smile expands. Although I am far away, that little grin makes me feel closer to him than ever before.
"How does it feel for you to fly?" I ask him, a graduate of his flying instruction.
"I just feel like there's nothing in my way, no one to stop me." he replies, lying down beside me.
"It's like all my worries leave me, just for that moment," I say, fitting my head in the pillow I made with my arms. "I'd trade that moment for thousands."
Draco nods, smiling again. I shake my head, then tell him, "I guess I was wrong."
"About what?" he asks, turning on his side.
"You're not so much of an prick." I answer with a laugh, one of the only unforced ones I've had in awhile.
"Good to know," he says, with a tiny chuckle. "It's nice to have someone not judge me for once."
Above us, stars dangle, their light brightening our faces. For some reason I kind of like silence between us two. I feel like we can stretch out and let our thoughts roam. Even if I close my eyes, I still know Draco is beside me. He breathes in and out to his slow heartbeat.
"Why do you breathe so loudly?" I ask.
"I do?" he replies. I chuckle. "Well I don't really know then."
Another chuckle. I hear him shifting beside me. When my eyelids flutter open, he's smiling back at me.
"How come I never hear you laugh?" he asks. I can't help but giggle a little.
"I do, you just...just have to make me," I say, turning to face him.
His face twists in a couple of different places, his tongue sticking out. I shake my head. "Nah."
"Hmm...Oh, how do you keep a blonde at home?" he asks. I shrug. "Build a circular driveway."
A laugh attempts to wiggle free from my lips but I hold back. "Close, but not good enough."
He sighs. "Well...I suppose I have to resort to plan C." Before I can ask, he lunges toward me, digging his fingers in my side. I retaliate, sticking my fingers underneath his armpit. We roll around in the grass, laughing together.
"I'm seriously not ticklish!" I tell him in between giggles. The Malfoy smirk appears.
"And I'm a Gryffindor, huh." He continues to tickle me, his body now above mine.
"I trained myself, actually." My laughter stops, yet my grin remains.
He keeps trying. "There's has to be one ticklish spot then." I tickle him, laughter pouring from his lips.
"You are a lot more ticklish than me!" I exclaim, keeping my fingers at his waist. That spot makes him wiggle around like a worm in a hurry.
He sputters, "I k-know you'r-re more tick-lish than m-me!" My smile grows.
"Good luck!" I tell him, tickling him even faster.
His fingers delve underneath my shirt, beside my bellybutton. They are soft and gentle. His pace does not lose any speed as he presses on every inch of my skin. Underneath his shirt, I feel the bottom of his abs, trying to poke them. He's definitely stronger than most rumors I've heard. He passes my bellybutton, feeling around with his jabbing fingers. I copy him. Our hot breath mixes together as our laughter dies, only our panting to be heard.
He locks his fingers on the patch of skin right above my bellybutton as little giggles leave my mouth. "I found it!" He tickles me fast, my body jerking around underneath his arms. He just laughs along with me.
"Trained yourself, huh?" he whispers. I squeeze his well-conditioned arms, trying to escape. All I do is shake my head, trying to resist. Now it's not just tickling I have to fight off.
My hands frame the sides of his face and his face approaches mine. His hands leave my stomach to grasp parts of my back, lifting me about a centimeter away from him.
In this moment, none of it mattered. It does not matter we are enemies, it does not matter he is a Slytherin, it does not matter he hates my friends, it does not matter that I am with Ron. But many memories reel through my head. Those heated glances: our eyes holding each other in place, full of curiosity. Also of nights that ticked away, just thinking of how he helped me work on my transfiguration. Even of the time he picked one of my books off the floor. It matters that I am somehow willingly in love with him. And that he feels it too.
Our eyes lock. Our hands sweep across each others faces. Our bodies blend into one.
Our lips collide.
Then it all subsides. Reality slashes my soul inside and out.
My lips stop, limbs thudding to the ground. Then silence.
Finally my life unpauses. "What have I done?" I whisper.
"What have we done?" Draco whispers back.
I want to look at him, but what will that do? The untouchable has been touched. The pure has been polluted. The present has arrived.
I hide my trembling lip underneath my teeth as I face him again. "I need to tell Ron as soon as possible."
"No." His answer is automatic.
"I'm going to. It's not fair to him."
"No you're not. Do you realize what will happen when it gets around to-"
"I don't care what anyone says. I can't hide this from him."
Draco quiets, eyes on the sky. "Please don't."
"I'm sorry. I have to." I trace the outline of his right cheekbone. We both put our hands on each others faces. He massages my skin with his thumb, his frown overwhelming his face.
"This feels...so right," I whisper. He nods, his expression twisted, as if bees stung his lips. Our eyes melt within each others, taking in each other's sorrow.
We lay there. Somehow perfectly still, knowing our fates.
"I used to really like you," I whisper, a tear teetering on the edge of my eyelid.
"I did too." The off-balance tear falls.
I ask, "How could you like me?"
"Hmm. You're smart, sweet...and beautiful." My chest rises, pausing before it falls. A smile stretches across my face, a smile I've never experienced in my life. New muscles, new shape: the biggest smile. A flood of butterflies sways throughout my stomach.
"Draco..." All I can muster. He offers me a half-smile.
"If only," he whispers, wiping a tear from my cheek. I nod. I don't want him to admit it. Everything between us had been an 'if'. Couldn't we just exist, together? Without suffixes or prefixes?
He gets up and I yearn to set him down next to me to linger here with me. But I take the hand he offers me. The only sound as we walk back is the crunch of the forest beneath us.
Once we arrive at the moving staircase, we whisper our goodbyes. I watch him walk away like I have thousands of times before, his confident gait faltering.
I will see him tomorrow but things will be changed. I know Hell is approaching us. Days will pass with no sign of him. Time will come between us and distance us.
I won't let that stop me. Our lips collided once. I waited four years. You could multiply it, exponent it, I don't care-I will wait for the one I love.
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the lovely characters used in this piece.
A/N: It's been awhile...let me know what you think. Criticism welcome. Apologies about the broom part, I didn't feel like watching the movie to see the correct way to mouth the broom. Anyway, thanks for reading. Although there is a little more to the story...