Chapter Twenty-six. Enchantment is written in the stars

I wasn't sure if I deserved Draco Malfoy.

There was a strange sense of vulnerability in him, the kind I'd never seen before. Every time he stroked through my hair, he held me a little tighter than before, as though he was telling me not to leave him all by himself.

My arms were dangling on my sides as my heart screamed to give him the warmest embrace and tell him how I'd always stay by his side.

But I couldn't bring myself to it.

"You should get some rest," I said quietly.

He let me loose. Standing still in front of me and staring right into my eyes, I couldn't read the complicated sentiments behind that icy grey. Was he upset at my reaction? He must be. Why wouldn't he? I was puzzled by my action as well.

"Walk with me," He said, and I nodded.

It had gotten ink blue outside. Instead of turn into drizzles, the rain was pouring harder than ever with the sound of wind blowing through the leaves echoing all around.

I had never been this clueless about where I should go from here.

"You are overthinking," He whispered while we walked toward his bed, with his arm around my shoulders, "I'd advise against it."

I didn't respond. I was tired, tired of thinking, tired of not knowing, and tired of the endless crying. My mind couldn't help but kept swirling around on that thought:

Is love truly enough? Can it defeat all the odds?

The tendency to romantic situations solely because of the rose-colored lenses called love while ignoring the reality is daring.

"Parkinson, out," He said demandingly as I helped him getting into his bed.

"Draco, why are you so stubborn?" Parkinson said out of frustration and despair, "Why can't you see she is up to no good? She's not good enough for you."

"Out," He said harshly.

"But..."

"Out!" He raised his voice, "Do not make me repeat it again."

Pansy Parkinson stood there in silence for a few seconds before she sighed: "Oh dear, you are digging a grave for yourself."

Malfoy turned away, decided to ignore her.

Seeing him determined not to acknowledge her, she finally began to walk away, but not without glaring at me first. She walked up to me, leaned over and whispered menacingly.

"Granger," She said with a pause after each word, "You better get it together. I will not watch you hurt him anymore than the damage you've already done."

"Are you threatening me?" I said flatly and coldly, disregarded her intimidating tone.

"No," She sneered, "It's nothing more than a friendly warning."

"You are leaving," I looked straight ahead at the stone wall, "Have a goodnight."

Pansy Parkinson scorned as she left, and I was startled by my apathy. As all kinds of emotions flooded my mind, and instead of experiencing any predominant senses, it turned hazy and swirled into impassiveness.

I wasn't the only one that was surprised by my emotionlessness. When I turned around to sit on the edge of the bed, Malfoy looked worried.

"Hey," He reached to squeeze my hand, which was freezing from the rain, "You should go take a shower and put on some dry clothes. You are doomed to get sick if you don't."

"I should," I said as I held his hand with both of mine like what Parkinson was doing earlier as if I'd get some vengeances out of it, "But you want me to be here with you."

It wasn't a question. I could see it in his eyes that he had admitted to himself that I was stating a fact. Hiding half of his face in the oil lamp light shadows, he somehow appeared paler than ever.

Vulnerability. This was the true Draco Malfoy, the real face behind all the facade he created to hide the authentic and genuine version of himself. Perhaps it was because the medication Madam Pomfrey gave him, he didn't even put up a fight to deny how he felt at this moment.

He would never fully understand how much I appreciate him for taking down his masquerade. And I wasn't sure if I was able to do the same. He had always been by my side ever since he confessed his feelings for me. I wondered how much mental turbulent he went through to shovel away all his prejudices against me and my background, how he forced himself to be more open to me, and how he convinced himself that I would be the one bringing the sense of security he longed for and desperately needed.

What if Parkinson was right? What if I was, and never will be, good enough for him?

"Yes," He smiled gauntly, "However, I also don't want you to get sick. Now go dry yourself up and come back. Plus, you smell like a wet dog. I've been through enough today to get that layer added to my misfortune."

I chuckled lightly.

"Sure," I kissed the back of his hand, "But promise if you are tired, you should get some sleep and not wait for me to come back."

"I can always rest my eyes a little," He rose his eyebrows as I stood up.

"Certainly, you do," I kissed him gently on his forehead, "I'll see you later."

He nodded. While I was walking toward the door once again, leaving in a slightly better mood than the last time, he called out to me:

"You are going to come back tonight, right?"

I turned around and gave him a bittersweet smile.

###

On my way back nervousness sprouted, climbed and crawled all around me like it an invisible vine. I was drenched, cold and lost. I purposefully took the longer route to go from outside so that I could buy some time to think, thought it meant I was once again, at the rain's mercy.

If I knew a spell about escaping reality, I'd cast it right there and then.

From time to time I wished I was a hopeless romantic, where my nails were painted red like the mid-century starlets, lounging in a hammock chair with a fancy glass cup filled with cherry cola float in my hand while daydreaming about my star-crossed lover.

I wondered if I had a doppelgänger who was living a life in such ways in a completely different time and place.

Although what I had at this moment, was nothing but the pouring rain, the endless darkness that was too far away from dawn and a troubled mind.

It became painfully clear that I couldn't determine whether I was good enough for Draco Malfoy, and I would never be sure. What I did know was I had read enough novels and watched enough movies where the protagonists decided to leave their lovers because they believed it was the best course of action, and it had never concluded on a happening ending.

Call me selfish-which I certainly already was-I didn't want to be that protagonist. Draco Malfoy was all I had, and I intended to keep it this way. I loved him, why would I even remotely think about leaving him?

Love has always been selfish, hasn't it?

"You don't look too hot, darling," The fat lady said when she saw me with water dripping down my clothes.

Though I didn't mean to be rude, I dead stared at her instead of laughing at her not-so-clever pun.

"Blancmange," I said wryly while thinking about where to get some blancmange. Every time when the password was a dessert name, it made me crave sweets.

"Get a sense of humor, young lady," She rolled her eyes as she swung her portrait open, "I was trying to cheer you up."

I symbolically smiled at her as I crawled in.

Before I could find my footing, I heard Ginny calling my name.

"Yes?" I looked up and said in distress.

"You are finally back," She eyed me up and down and said cautiously, "Are you alright? You are soaked."

"I've noticed," I threw my hands, tried to sound lighthearted and began walking toward the dorm to get a change of clothes.

Then as my eyes adjusted to the brighter light, I saw those who were sitting on the couch in the common room and those who were standing around.

Ron was in the armchair on the side near the fireplace, Lavender was standing across the room from him, and Harry was rubbing his temples with his glasses in one hand, sitting in the middle on the center couch.

I knew something was up when the usually crowded common room was only filled with the characters who were tangled by an avoidable drama.

Theatrical was the world came to mind.

I slowed my steps down and eventually stopped by the spiral stone stairs, knowing that they were expecting me to speak.

"Well, "I cleared my throat impatiently, completely over with the conversation before it even started, "What now?"

"Would you like to say something about, you know, all that happened?" Ginny walked up to me, reached to put her hand on my shoulder but stopped her motion mid-air with hesitation and awkwardness, she shrugged instead.

"I have nothing to say, nor do I have anything to do with it," I frowned, annoyed by the question and continued on after a quick glance at Lavender, who had her head lowered, "While I'm sorry for the frustration it had caused, I cannot say it was at any point my fault."

"Do you want to get back with Ron?" I heard a faint voice. Lavender sounded like she had been crying.

"No," I said firmly. She was still staring at the floor, avoided eye contact. I sighed, turned to stare right into Ron's eyes, "Like I said, we are through and through. I wish you the best of luck. It's fine if you don't want to maintain any form of friendship. But I do hope in the future, you are able to make wise choices and not hurt anyone else's innocence."

"You don't have to right to sound like a saint," He said derogatorily in a stern tone, but I could see the signs of tears in his eyes, "I don't need advice from someone who associates herself with Draco Malfoy."

"You can say whatever you want about me, or Malfoy," I started walking up the stairs, "Honestly, I refuse to care any longer. If you loved, or cared about Lavender even the slightest, you should have a decent conversation with her without your audiences, you just broke that poor girl's heart. And for Merlin's sake, you should stop acting like you are something you are not."

I felt a great deal of weight had been lifted off my shoulders after I said that. Later in the shower, for the first time in forever, I felt the hot, steamy water washed away my stress and worries. I knew then, I was ready to face a new beginning, a time where Ron wasn't of my concern anymore, a time where I could only focus on building the relationship between Malfoy and me.

When I got back to the infirmary, Malfoy had fallen asleep. But my clumsiness and inability in moving the chair quietly caused an unpleasant screeching sound which woke him.

"Hey," He rubbed his eyes, "You should be glad you made it back before I run out of patience."

"I presume you weren't sleeping," I laughed, "Because how else could you impatiently checking the door to see if I was back?"

"Precisely," He smiled, then he moved over a little, "Come lie down next to me."

"I don't think Madam Pomfrey would approve this idea," I said.

"I think she will let it slide," He grinned.

"Alright," I said indulgently and climbed onto the bed.

I had never felt with somebody until Malfoy and I's paths began to cross like how it should've been at the very beginning.

Tomorrow surely would be nothing but beautiful.