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CHAPTER 43.
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HERMIONE'S POV:
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I couldn't believe I was finally seeing words materialise on the diary. I could have hugged the infuriating little book right now.
His words "Hello you" seemed to catapult me in a sea of giddiness and for a moment I was wondering if Lavender or Parvati had finally gotten to me.
He said he missed me. Did he really mean it? I mean, I know I'm dear to him but did he miss me like I missed him? Merlin! I'm behaving like a love struck teenager. Which I realised; I am, but still, I had imagined that when I would fall in love, it would be a calm and happy feeling minus the battiness that girls usually displayed. Turned out hormones and teen-age didn't spare even me.
I don't know whether I liked this or not but what I knew for certain that Draco invoked a feeling in me that was decidedly foreign and I definitely liked feeling it.
I didn't tell him but I'm pretty sure he would know, it was difficult to acknowledge that he would have to keep his distance from me even though we were only a written message away. But what he was doing was logical.
What with death eaters swarming all over and especially; living with the deranged Bellatrix Lestrange it was only safe to do what he had suggested. Although why his aunt would ever want to probe his mind, I don't know. But it was better to be safe than sorry. We had spent 3 years without raising a doubt in Lucius Malfoy's eyes and that was only because we were extremely careful. Throwing caution to the winds; especially now that Voldemort was back would be very unwise. And Draco was as much in danger from the revelation of our friendship as I was.
So if it took creating some distance between him and me for the sake of our safety then so be it. Although I was saddened by the thought that Draco needed immediate contact with me for me to be on his mind. I mean, he hadn't spoken to me for almost over a month and yet I was thinking about him almost all the time. Merlin knows that if someone delved into the depths of my mind any given time, Draco would be everywhere.
But I was being stupid. Of course he thought about me as much as I did. Maybe more. And lately I had noticed him behave differently. Even before the entire polyjuice incident, he had started behaving differently. It took my realisations of feelings for him to make me more attentive towards him and I was certain he shared the same feelings towards me. The way he told me that he was going to spend every second infringing upon my free time, sent shivers of anticipation through my entire body and I bloody couldn't wait for this summer to be over already.
If I wasn't so certain, I wouldn't go about wearing my feelings on my sleeve. I would bury my feelings and never risk the bond of friendship we shared. Having him as something more than a friend would be a dream come true but not having him at all wasn't even an option. But the admission of my feelings might tip the balance if he didn't see me the same way. And I didn't want to drive him away.
But when he said that this was the last time he would be contacting me, something in me took over and the usually analytical and rational part of me got swept behind and the need to let him know that things would be alright despite of the darkness around him was great. I needed to let him know that I loved him and inspite of anything that would happen; I would be there for him. I needed to let him know that there was someone who loved him and was waiting for him irrespective of how difficult and dangerous the times ahead were. I wanted to tell him so much. So many emotions that I wish I could have just met him and said all these things to him personally, all in one breath because I know I wouldn't have the courage to look him in the eye and say it all as calmly as I was thinking about it right now.
But I didn't have that opportunity and he didn't have the time. So I tried to let him know in the shortest and swiftest way possible. I didn't beat around the bush and I didn't think of the consequences. I didn't pave out after-scenarios. I had no time and no warning. I just acted on impulse and hoped that I wouldn't come to regret it later.
I just went ahead and told him that I loved him.
There! I had gone and done it.
When I had written those words, I really didn't stop to think what I expected his reply to be. But as I waited with my breath stuck in my throat, I know what I certainly hadn't expected. I hadn't expected him to not reply at all. Of all the possible things he could have said, he didn't say anything.
I waited. He had scribbled "Hermione, I " and it stopped right there. My eyes lingered on the line expectantly, waiting for the rest of the statement to appear. But it didn't. Maybe he was inking his quill. But it didn't take longer than 5 seconds to do that and Draco always used self inking quills anyway. Maybe he was thinking what to write back. That wouldn't be a good sign. If he had to think so much that meant he didn't feel the same way. But how long did it take to think of something, anything, to write back? Especially when he had started his sentence already. It seemed like he had wanted to say something but had stopped midway because he wasn't sure about it.
But what could it be that he had wanted to write but was hesitating in doing so?
Hermione, I don't feel the same way.
Hermione, I don't think we should be discussing this right now.
Hermione, I don't know what you're talking about, we're just friends.
Hermione, I don't love you that way.
So many sentences came to my mind. It could be any of them.
It was almost 5 minutes since he had written that utterly frustrating, incomplete reply and I had given up on the statement being completed. If he actually did have anything to say about it he would have said so already.
I furiously brushed off my hot tears and slammed the book shut. I don't know why I was so disappointed. So upset and hurt. I clearly hadn't expected him to say "Hermione, I love you too." But then again what had I expected him to say?
This is what happens when you don't think things through. This is why I should stick to being thorough and logical and analytical. At least I would have prepared myself for every scenario. But now, not only had I gone and foolishly and blatantly admitted my feelings to him but I had also created a level of expectation from him.
And if he wouldn't live up to it, who knows what would happen? Would I slowly start resenting him? Would he start avoiding me? Would I realise that him not reciprocating my feelings was a reason to stay away from him?
I pulled my hair and groaned. I was so so confused at this point that I don't even know what my anger and annoyance was directed at.
I was bloody irritated with myself. There he was telling me about his problems and out of nowhere I sprung my feelings on him. Say, even if he did have feelings for me, anyone would be caught off guard. And his mental frame at this point was anything but romantic. It was easy for me to fantasize about him and my newfound love when I was safe at home. But he was all alone in the cold and dingy manor with a deranged aunt breathing down his neck, a death eater for a father and the imminent threat of Voldemort.
Surely I would be the farthest thing on his mind. Yet, he was concerned of my safety. That spoke volumes. And what had I gone and done? Just unloaded all of my feelings onto him. Although I admit I had done it to make him feel better and to convey to him that I was there for him, he could have taken it in the wrong manner.
I mentally chided myself. Why did I have to be impatient? I could have told him of my feelings at Hogwarts. When we were face to face. At least we wouldn't be able to run away from it.
Yes, I was definitely annoyed with myself. I wish he had written something. Anything. Because it just left a lot to my imagination and none of it was positive. I just imagined him writing all possible things that I really wished he didn't feel.
As I thought about it, my mind cooled down and the emotional rush I had experienced earlier was replaced by logic and I found that my irritation and annoyance that was earlier being directed towards him was now directed at me.
I had been stupid and irrational. I should have respected his words when he said he had no time and opportunity to talk to me. I shouldn't have pushed it. Even though my intentions were noble, I shouldn't have just assumed that those were the words he would have wanted to hear. Yes, I accept that I wanted to say the words and even hear them from him. That would have been a dream come true. But it was wrong on my part to think that he would desire the same things.
What he wanted to do was to bury me deep inside so that if anyone prodded his memories I would stay hidden. But what had I gone and done? I had just declared my love for him and let's admit it, even if he didn't feel the same way, he was still someone who cared about me and such a declaration from me would definitely get him thinking about me. And if he did love me too, then again he would end up thinking about me. Either way, I had just defeated the purpose of our conversation. I had managed to gain front row seats in his mind, when infact he wanted to get me out of it.
Sigh Hermione! I thought to myself. Such an idiot you are.
And I had over 6 weeks of agonising and analysing this mistake of mine over and over again. I wish I could talk to Draco about it. I was embarrassed as hell but I know that the only way out of this situation and the only way to actually overcome this was by doing the mature thing and talking it out with him.
The more I thought about it, the more it looked like a folly on my part. I still angrily held on to the part that he could have said something at least or even not replied at all. That would have been more humane. But starting out with "Hermione, I " and just leaving it at that was criminal. I mean it was absolutely ruthless; like depriving someone of oxygen.
I sighed again. And thought back to our kiss. That memory could really brighten my spirits. It made me so happy that I think I could produce a patronus enough to drive a dozen dementors away.
His eyes locked into mine, the silent conversations they held with mine, the innocent brushes of our hands and the longer than necessary hugs we had been sharing lately, all reinforced my belief in my belief of his love for me.
No, he hadn't told me that he loved me. But I had seen it in his eyes that night in the Room of Requirement and I think Blaise had seen it too. It was like this unspoken fact hanging between us, which he had the decency to not mention. I never relied on anything without solid deduction or proof but something deep inside me told me that I wasn't wrong.
My love wasn't of the unrequited kind and I knew that inspite of my earlier misgivings, Draco loved me. I just knew. And I didn't need him to tell me that. Of course a verbal or written confirmation would be great, so that I wouldn't think this to be a total figment of my imagination but I knew that inspite of the uncertainty of it all, there was still reality in it.
Maybe he had meant to write "Hermione, I love you too."
I decided that if I was going to assume at all, then I'd assume his words to be the one's I wanted I to hear.
Even though I hadn't heard them yet.
Maybe at this point, Some things were better left Unsaid.
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