Chapter 6 - Dejá Vu

Quite a few months had passed them by painlessly ever since the accident. Hermione started to smile a lot more. She had to admit to herself, quite reluctantly, that she was starting to fall for Draco. All. Over. Again.

Just like dejá vu.

Snow fell lightly around the Malfoy Manor. Hermione longed to step out of the house but had never proposed this idea to Draco. She had no intention of hurting him further.

Hermione felt hot breath on her neck. "What are you thinking about?"

She smiled, not moving or even turning from her position. "The snow," she spoke, without even stopping to think until too late.

Hermione felt Draco stiffen next to her. "I-I was just kidding, Draco," she hurried.

"I'm going out," Draco announced coldly, from Hermione's point of view.

Hermione was spread out on the four-poster bed, burying her face into the pillow when Draco entered the room again. She heard Draco mutter some words which sounded like snowflakes, float...

She turned around and gasped.

Several snowflakes were hanging on invisible strings around the room. Or so it seems. It was beautiful. And cold, though.

"For you."

Hermione sniffed hard and brushed away the fallen tears. She was touched.

"I love you, Hermione."

She swallowed. "We can't be together, Draco."

He looked at her with an adorable confused look. "Aren't we together now?"

"Physically, yes. But..." Hermione trailed off.

"Mentally?" Draco prompted, with disbelieving eyes.

"I-I can't explain, Draco," she stammered, flustered.

"WHY?" Draco claimed.

"I'm engaged to Ron."

Draco lounged around the Malfoy's library, pacing. Hermione Granger is engaged? Draco kicked a book on the floor with force. It wasn't the only reason why he was furious. He should have guessed. He was mad at himself for looking like a love fool in front of Hermione. There was no point in having her stay then. Draco was quite certain she would leave when the year is up, for Ron, and he would have to sacrifice himself for the Dark Lord, although that was the last thing he was thinking of this moment.

What do I do? Draco asked himself, feeling, for the first time, lost.

Hermione sat cross-legged on the bed, staring at the door. Draco, come back, Hermione thought to herself, repeating these words again and again. I was just kidding.

How she hated herself. The look on Draco's face when she told him she was engaged was hurtful - for both of them. Hermione wished she hadn't agree to Ron's proposal but immediately took the words back. I will not break Ron's heart, she told herself fiercely. It is not right.

But is it right to break Draco's heart?

It seemed that no matter which choice she chose, she would end up breaking somebody's heart. Hermione knew she wanted Draco - a lot. Far too much. Yet Ron... she was quite certain Ron wouldn't be as womanizing as Draco. Moreover, Ron had been waiting for her since third year in Hogwarts when they were just thirteen. Seven years, Hermione thought wistfully.

Seven years was a long time to wait for somebody. Hermione finally gave in to Ron's charms and agreed to his proposal. He had looked so... pleading, like he was wishing and hoping she would say yes.

Ron cared about her truly and would never break her heart. Things were a little different when it came to Draco.

Draco made a girl want him. It's just the way he is - hot and irresistible. Sometimes it makes Hermione want to hit him on the head for being so perfect. Perfect skin, perfect piercing eyes, perfect lips... even his hair is perfect - not a single strand out of place. Not only that, he knew what you wanted and would say the kind of things that pleases you. Hermione knew, deep in her heart, that Draco would also not break her heart.

She wanted to stay close to Draco till the end of time but it was impossible. Too many people, too many things... they all didn't want them to stay together. They all prevented them from staying together. It would hurt too many people and caused too many conflicts if I stayed with Draco, Hermione thought, tears welling up in her eyes.

It was so, so unfair.

Beliarosa appeared at the entrance of the library. Draco groaned inwardly when he saw her smiling sweetly at him. I will not fall into her trap, Draco reminded himself. His reminder was forgotten as Beliarosa neared him, flipping her hair casually. He could barely keep himself from drooling.

"Draco..." Beliarosa cooed. "How have you been these days?"

Draco wrenched Hermione's hand and almost twisted it. "Draco!" she shouted, half from shock and half from pain.

Draco jerked his head, as if he had just woken up from a trance. "Wha- Hermione, you okay?"

Hermione stared at him in disbelief and slapped him. "You almost twisted my arm!" she shouted.

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I didn't know... Did I really twist your arm?" His voice became more worried.

"Almost," she mumbled softly.

He took her hand and massaged it. "Feeling better?" he asked, his voice husky.

"Yeah," Hermione said quietly.

"Fine," Draco answered stiffly, as images of fifth year floated back to him. Beliarosa was the cause of our breakup, he thought. I would let her break us up again.

He seemed to have forgotten that Hermione was engaged.

Beliarosa pouted. "Are you thinking of that girl again? I'm much more better than her, you know."

"Are you related to Pansy Parkinson?" he asked. "Because you are acting a great deal like her. I hate whiny girls." Draco smirked. He was back.

Beliarosa looked insulted.

"Excuse me, but there is someone I must attend to," Draco said coolly, pushing past her as if she doesn't exist.

I must apologise to Draco, Hermione thought. She stepped out of the room experimentally and set off to find Draco with a determined piece of mind. "Please don't let me run into Lucius," she prayed. She heard footsteps behind her and quickly hid behind a large statue of some ancestor of the Malfoys.

"Hermione? What are you doing behind Great-great-great-grandpa?"

Hermione heaved a sigh of relief and stepped out - into Draco's amused eyes. She stuck out her tongue at him and punched him not-so-lightly on the shoulder. "What's so funny?"

To her surprise, he winced. Hermione, having gotten worried, insisted on him to show her his left arm. Forgetting what he had done to his arm five years ago, he let her.

Hermione gasped as she ran her finger over the scar on his arm. "Draco, what is this? Have you been cutting yourself again?" Hermione asked, frowning.

A piece of memory slowly unfolded itself unwantedly.

Draco slammed the door hard and leaned against it. I knew it, he thought.

How would someone so virtuous like her fall for me?

Draco spotted his penknife lying on the floor. Unable to resist the sharpness of the blade, he carved a 'H' on his left arm, to remind himself of how Hermione hurt him.

God, he hated her so much.

Draco's face turned pink when he recalled how he had felt that night. What a lie. Hate Hermione? Never!

"Well... Uh... I like the letter 'H'," he lied, grinning brightly. He could have hit himself on the head for saying that letter.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "'H'?" she repeated. "Don't you dare deceive me, Draco Malfoy."

"It was in fifth year..." he mumbled.

Hermione grimaced a little. Fifth year. Seemed so long ago.

"My, my, isn't this sweet. Having a meeting in the halls, aren't we? Aren't you going to kiss?" a voice mocked them from behind.

Without turning, they knew who it was.

Lucius Malfoy.