Chapter 13: Young And In Love

Immediately the next morning, Draco went and sought out Hermione. This was one of the few situations in which he was not thinking about the Unbreakable Vow, but Hermione- just Hermione; he was, although it was painful to admit, scared for her. He had never like Parvarti and Lavender much, and found himself liking them even less as they had run away giggling the previous night, before Draco could attempt to reason with them.

And, unfortunately, his suspicions had been confirmed- they had told everyone. Even as Draco swept the halls and classrooms trying to find Hermione, he could see everyone whispering, pointing indiscreetly. Few faced he had passed showed surprise, but the predominant expression on both Gryffindor and Slytherin's faced conveyed that of resentment and betrayal.

It was only in the Great Hall that he found her; he was moving so fast that he almost collided into her. She looked incredibly tired, her wild hair and forlorn expression gave the impression of a sleepless night. Her eyes were blotchy and swollen. it was obvious that she'd been crying. And she was alone, he couldn't see her friends in sight. Or, for that matter, anyone at all near her.

'Hermione!' He exclaimed. 'I was-'

'-Please, Draco, leave me alone.' She said quietly, bowing her head. She turned quickly, and left the hall as fast as possible.

He looked around wildly, unsure of what was going on. And, unfortunately catching the eye of Gregory Goyle. He was surrounded by a dozen Slytherin's. 'So it was Granger, you kissed, was it? The Mudblood?'

There were cackles of laughter. Strangely, he noticed that Blaise was one of them, but he was not laughing. On the contrary, he looked solemn. He felt a pang of anger at their cruel humor, which was odd- he had referred to many a Muggleborn as a Mudblood, but he knew, in that moment, that the word would never pass his lips again.

Shaking his head, he ran out to catch up with Hermione, ignoring the stares.

He ran as fast as he could, his heart pounding. Skidding out of the entrance hall, he made for the grounds, which is where he found her- walking hastily down the slope of grass.

'Hermione,' He called out desperately. Her head almost, almost turned around. She had heard him. 'Hermione, wait-'

'Go away.' She shouted back. But it was windy, and she was faced away from him, so it was carried as no more than an eerie echo.

'Please, just listen for one minute-'

'Draco, I can't!' she span around unexpectedly. She was openly weeping now. He felt a rush of sympathy towards her- he longed for nothing else in that moment, than to comfort her- but he couldn't. Not now. 'Draco, we have to stop this- this game-'

'-What are you talking about?' he said urgently. 'It's okay, people will-'

'What?' She sobbed. 'Get over it?'

He gripped her arm, and she flinched. '-Listen, I know it looks bad right now, but-'

'Let go of me, please.' She said impatiently. 'Malfoy, let go.'

'Hermione-'

'Revulsio.' She said softly. His hand sprang back.

He looked at her, stung. But she did not look back.

After a moment, she spoke again. 'Harry and Ron hate me. They say that I've betrayed them.'

Draco was silent. He couldn't think of a single word to say.

'Draco,' she said slowly. 'We have to stop this.'

She needn't have uttered the last sentence, for it had no impact on him. 'Please, listen, I-'

'-Please.' There was a tone of urgency to her voice. 'Everyone's against me. My two best friends in the world hate me. I can't continue with this. Please, please respect this. At least- at least for a while.'

There was a pause. He looked at her wordlessly, imploringly, but it was no use- she would not- could not- look him in the eye. 'Hermione, you can't-'

'-Yes, Malfoy, I can.' She looked weary now. She was not crying anymore. 'I need my friends back.'

'I love you.' He blurted out.

She hesitated, silently looking at him for a few seconds. When she opened her mouth, she spoke in no more than a whisper.

'Let's just take a break. Just- so we can figure things out, okay?'

And with that, she walked away.

Draco watched her, watched her small shoulders hunch over, and her legs tripping in their haste to get away. He watched her frizzy brown hair blow to the left in the wind, and he knew, even without seeing her front, that her hair was in her face.

The words had spilled out of Draco's mouth before he could stop himself. He barely had time to process it. But he had felt something for her, something strong, something unbreakable.

And it terrified him.

Maybe I do love her, said a small voice at the back of his head.