Chapter Seventeen. What goes around comes around

I've always liked the Weasley house. Sure, it was a bit crammed, but it gave off the warm, fuzzy feeling as a home should have, The Malfoy manor, on the other hand, was more or less a bit bleak. I was never sure of the reason behind it, as both of the places are decorated for Christmas, both echoed with the crisp sound of wood slowly burning in the vivid, supposedly joyful fire from the fireplace. But there must be something, some that was fulfilled in the Weasley house and missing in the Malfoy manor. Then that word came into my mind:

Love.

It couldn't be though, it couldn't be. I was sure Malfoy's parents loved him, perhaps not in the most conventional ways, but they did love him. Glancing over my shoulder I saw his face, perpetually pale but painted with the slightest warm color on his cheeks from the heat of the fire at this very moment. Did my heart ache for him? A little, just a little. Not enough for me to picture him as the lone child living in a luxurious, spacious mansion and left with emptiness in his heart, but enough for me to feel empathy towards him, and propelled me to love him ever and ever more.

I knew there and then, that the protagonist of my story was no longer me. No, it was never me, it always was and always would be him. This was not some kind of solemn revelation of myself despite the chaos of others chatting, it was a realization that I finally decided to come to term with.

Surprisingly, everyone behaved at dinner. Ron didn't seem so happy with the situation that I brought Malfoy here, but he didn't say a word, though he did glare at Malfoy and I a few times while pretending to smile and having a conversation and Quidditch with Harry. Lavender was sitting next to him, with her hand on his back most of the time, listening and laughing at the things he said, acted completely oblivious about her boyfriend's undeniable fury against the two sitting across them. From time to time, I found myself wondering about how much of the history between Ron and I that she came to know of. Maybe all of it, or maybe nothing at all except that once upon a long while ago we dated. Oblivion was sure a blessing in her case.

Malfoy was polite. Not even one rude comment or joke had slipped through his thin lips and I was proud of him for keeping himself in check. Although there were times he whispered to my ear with a smirk, I brushed it off lightheartedly.

"I'm not sure who Weasley wants dead more, you or me, or both," He said as he swiftly looked toward Ron's direction.

"I hope he doesn't wish death upon anyone in the holiday season," I shook my head, looked at neither of them.

"Do you think he'll want to talk to you after dinner?" He continued as he slowly stuck his fork into the neatly sliced turkey.

"Why would you ask?" I frowned, looking at my empty plate, debating whether I should take a slice of the cherry pie.

"If he doesn't, I'd suggest you go talk to him," He curled his lips, "It's about time."

"For?" I finally turned to him.

"It's time to amend the animosity between you two," He proceeded to put the turkey onto my plate, "Here, have this, I'm done watching you struggling to cut anything up."

"I just finished my plate," I protested, pretended to be angry, "I was thinking about getting the pie."

"You can have more meat," He winked, "And not just turkey, though turkey is quite good too."

I squinted. It took me a second to catch on, and when I did, I rolled my eyes.

"Oh dear, don't roll your eyes," He tried his best to hold back his laugh, "That remind me of the Weasley girl, and anything remind me of anything Weasley is a disgrace."

"You do realize they are right here, right?" I kept my voice as low as possible and acted as if I was serious.

He shrugged and went back to finishing off his plate. I smiled at looked away from him, just to meet the eye with Ginny, who was sitting to my left and staring at me in amusement.

"It seems there's some improvements between you two," She nodded and said quietly, making sure that no one else heard our conversation.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I don't know, I guess I never expected that you two would stick together," She threw her hands before she half stood up and reached for the cherry pie, "I always thought you wouldn't last until Christmas."

"Why would you think that?" I rose my eyebrow and watched her cutting a piece of the pie.

"Well, no offense, but to be honest," She handed me the pie after putting a slice in her plate, "You started seeing each other out of nowhere, and I really thought you went out Malfoy to spite my brother. And if not that, you must make some sort arrangements with him. Or why else would you go out with your arch enemy?"

I had a sinking feeling in my gut, and I could feel my heart rate accelerating. Did Ginny know something? But how? We kept it all to ourselves and I never told anyone about it. Did Malfoy say something? No, no way, he wasn't the type to speak of such things to others. Perhaps I was just thinking too much.

"Don't be silly," I patted on her forearm. With a smile, I said it in what I assumed to be my best normal voice, "Why would I do such things?"

She didn't respond right away. Instead, she squinted for a few seconds before she said:

"Hermione, the pie is sliding off the plate."

###

The ways of falling in love are true arts. Some at a young age with all the innocence and naivety that are carried into the adulthood, which is the kind of love that ripens with age; some seal their fate at the meet of the eye, consciously or subconsciously drawn to the one destiny has brought to them; others are born out of lust and desire, the kind of longing for someone who certainly not belong, and will never belong to them. The kind of dangerous hope that shall never be wished yet fulfilled with temptations.

Then, stood among all these lines were Malfoy and me, who knowingly, against the best of our judgements, reached for the forbidden fruit.

The series of events leading up to this moment flew by in front of my eyes as I desperately trying to figure out if I slipped my secret out to Ginny. And as I finally came to the sense that the pie was falling and panickily trying to save it from hitting the floor, a hand reached through the gap between my arms and held the bottom of the pale, china plate to keep it in balance.

"I knew you've been eyeing that pie, but I didn't know your intention was to drop it," said the smirking devil and I looked at him half surprised and half thankfully.

"Well, guess someone's not paying much attention," I laughed awkwardly and didn't respond to his comment. Steadily and carefully, I put a slice of pie onto my plate before putting it back to where it once safely was.

"Or maybe that certain someone is startled because their secret was exposed," Ginny winked at me before her sight paused on me thoughtfully for a few seconds, then immediately diverted her attention to the mashed potatoes near Ron, demanding him to pass her the gravy along with it.

Part of me felt she was just messing around, but the other part of me felt she knew something that she should've never known.

During the rest of the time at the dinner table, I felt tensed. Perhaps it was only my paranoia, or Ginny was occasionally glancing at my direction, as if she was telling me how she could see through my façade and ready to tear through my lies.

Despite knowing amending the broken friendship with Ron was probably a good idea, I didn't want to take the move. I was tired and couldn't be bothered. What was the point? Even if we wanted to, both him and I knew we could never go back to where we once were, purely as friends, before the whole relationship affair started.

It would be a losing battle, to which was a phrase I never liked.

The tensed feeling amplified after we all left the dinner table. On the surface, or most likely to the majority of us here, the atmosphere was joyful, but not for me. And presumably not for Malfoy either. We, ironically, were sitting in the center and on the floor, surrounded by the others cheerfully chatting and catching up about their lives in the past few months while they were away from each other. They were like a family, and once upon a time I was part of this family. But those days were long gone, and I couldn't make the judgement on whether that was because I gained something better, or it was simply for the worst.

Malfoy and I were two outcasts trapped inside the circle, wishing nothing but to escape.

"So, um, Hermione?" As I was sunken in my own thoughts, I heard a familiar voice came from afar and pulled me through the thin barrier I created between my mind and the reality. I aimlessly looked up and locked eyes with the ginger-haired man who was my friend, then my lover, and finally, a stranger. He was sitting in an old armchair, with his girlfriend sitting on the left armrest, with her arms around his neck, looking at me with a smile that I couldn't comprehend.

"Yes?" I rubbed my eyes to focus. As usual, Christmas feast always made me sleepy afterwards, "What's up?"

"I just want to say, and, ugh, you too, Malfoy," He was choking on his words and I knew he was doing his best to hold back the resentment in speaking to us, "You know, earlier when you got here.."

"Last time I hear you speaking such incoherently was when your spell backfired and you were spitting out slugs," Malfoy rose his eyebrow with his usual smirk, totally disregard my attempt of stop him from provoking Ron by squeezing his arm.

"You can be nice for once during the holidays and not make such distasteful jokes," I forced out a smile and squeezed his arm harder, to which he curled his lips. I could see the expression on Ron's face changed, and I knew he began to get agitated. The last thing I wanted during the time here was for them to fight. Fortunately, Lavender whispered something into his ear, and he sighed.

"Listen, I'm not going to argue with you," Ron frowned. I was surprised how he was able to control his temper, "I was about to say that I'm sorry for slamming the door on you earlier, but on a second thought, someone like you doesn't deserve my apology."

"Are you trying to say you are better than me?" Malfoy said with a sneer, "But Weasley, you and I both know that is far from the truth."

"Hey, you know what," I quickly intervened before anything went further. Malfoy was testing how far Ron would go before finally losing it, and I wouldn't allow that to happen. Not today, not now, I was not ready to take it that far, "I think Malfoy and I will go to our room; we'll see you in the morning."

Malfoy didn't object the idea. Instead, he silently stood up and waited until I said all my forcefully polite goodnights to those around us and thanked Mrs. Weasley for the dinner. Then he began walking toward the door with me a few steps behind him.

I felt lucky in a sense that the Weasleys built a guest house right next to their home, where they decided to put Malfoy and I in. Though it seemed like we got the best place compare to the other guests, I was sure they did that so that Malfoy wouldn't get into any fruitless altercation with anyone.

"It's been a long day, isn't it?" He said as we open the door.

"Don't pick fights," I sighed and sat on the bed with a long sigh, "As if they don't already dislike us."

"Well, that's more of your problem," He grinned and said sarcastically, "They never liked me, so I think I'll live."

"Oh please," I laughed.

"Enough about the Weasleys," He shrugged. Then with a cunning smile hanging off his thin lips, he set his left hand on the bed next to my thigh and began unbuttoning his shirt with his right hand, "I saw they have a tub here, mind joining me?"

"I see the topic got changed rather quickly," I smiled as I pressed my lips against his.