I can't seem to help it.
I feel this unease every time he talks to her. It's like a weight pressing down on my chest, and I want to cover his eyes, his mouth, his ears—anything to stop him from seeing, speaking, or listening to her.
"Hermione? What are you doing here? Harry's looking—Hermione, no, not again." Ginny's voice cuts through my thoughts. Again, against my will, she pulls me away. I try to resist, but she's stronger than I am. As always, I end up being dragged along.
The farther they get, the more distant I feel, the hollow ache in my chest growing. I watch them—him and her—talking, until they fade from my sight completely.
"We really should find the cure. It won't be long until that ferret finds you fancy him."
Right, it's because of that love potion.
It shouldn't be like this. I shouldn't be the one who drinks it, and I certainly shouldn't be the one who ends up falling for the wrong person. The wrong time, the wrong person—it's the very definition of it. Who could have predicted this? One accidental sip of a drink laced with a love potion, and suddenly, my heart skips, my breath catches, and time feels like it stops when I see Draco Malfoy hurtling toward me on his broom.
If not for Ginny, I wouldn't even know he was after the Snitch near me. At that moment, everything else disappeared. The world around me faded, and all I could see—all I could feel—was him. His blonde hair tousled by the wind, sleek and effortless; his sharp gray eyes, cutting through everything as if they could see straight through me; and his features—so striking, so distinct, so... him.
Before I know it, we are now in my room. As soon as the door closes, Ginny puts a silence charm so there will be no one hearing our conversation.
"Hermione, you should keep yourself together! It's not like every day I can save you like this."
Deep down, I know the not-poisoned-by-love-potion Hermione would be genuinely grateful to Ginny for always being there, for stopping me whenever my thoughts get consumed by Draco Malfoy. Struggling to resist the urge to run to him, to take him away from that girl, Astoria Greengrass—his rumored fiancée. Why are they even engaged? They're still in high school. Is it normal for pureblood families to be so... determined?
My chest tightens. I am not pureblood. I'm not even mixed. I'm out of their league. I can't compete with her. Compete? There's no competition at all. There's no way Draco Malfoy would ever consider a Muggle like me as his love interest.
"Hermione? Do you hear me?" Ginny's concerned voice brings me back to the moment.
"Ginny, I'm trying, but it's a struggle. How can I keep myself together when my head is full of him? I even dream of him."
It's true. My dreams are always about him. In those dreams, I can talk to him freely, touch his silky hair, kiss his sweet lips. It's always so sweet—like the candy I used to eat when I was a kid.
Ginny shook her head, "Maybe... we should consider going to Madam Pomfrey? I don't think we should wait for Fred and George to find the cure, even though they're the ones who made the potion."
Right, Madam Pomfrey. She could probably find a cure right away. But a huge part of me rejects that idea. I don't want to lose this feeling. I admit, even though it tears me apart every time I see Draco Malfoy with Astoria Greengrass, I wake up with a sense of joy after dreaming of him. Or if I'm lucky, I get to catch a glimpse of his smile in the dining hall, or see him in class.
The Hermione who isn't under the influence of a love potion would laugh, maybe even be disgusted by how I'm thinking right now. Yet, I can't seem to shake this feeling, and I have no idea how to stop it.
"I think we should wait for your brothers. They know what they're doing."
"It's been almost a week, Hermione! I can't stand feeling restless and anxious knowing you're going to do something you'll regret later!"
"Regret, like what?"
"I don't know. At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if you suddenly kissed Draco Malfoy in front of everyone."
That's it. Kissing him in front of everyone. Claiming him as mine. Maybe that would cancel his engagement with Astoria Greengrass. Draco, the pureblooded heir of the Malfoy family, is tainted by a Muggle. No one would want him after that, and he'd be mine.
But would that really work? No, I don't think it would. A mere kiss won't be enough. It needs to be something more. No...This isn't right. I don't want to force him. I want everything to come naturally. I want him to notice me first. Maybe I should join the Gryffindor Quidditch team?
"Ginny… do you think Madam Hooch would let me join—"
"NO! She wouldn't! And even if she would, I'd tell her to reject you!"
"Why?"
"Why? WHY?! Hermione, you're not yourself! You're delirious whenever you see that ferret! Quidditch is dangerous even for normal people—what do you think would happen if I let you join?"
That, I know. But it could help me get noticed by Draco. Even if we're not on the same team, we'd still spend more time together. Who would notice if I touched his soft hair? Quidditch is such a physical sport after all.
"Hermione, whatever is happening with you right now, it's not you. I know you probably think I'm just being a nuisance, trying to keep you away from that... ferret. But trust me, later you'll thank me. I'm just trying to save you from another disaster." Ginny took my hand and squeezed it gently.
For a brief moment, I let my thoughts wander. What if Draco were the one holding my hand right now? I imagined his hands—soft, like I assumed someone from his wealthy, prestigious family would have. His hands were probably bigger than mine, warm and comforting. It would be nice to hold them, especially during the cold winter months.
"Don't tell me you're imagining him holding your hand right now?" Ginny's voice snapped me back to reality.
"Oh?" I blink, startled.
"Hermione, honestly, I don't think you should be out of your room. For your own sake, you need to stay in here."
"But what about my classes?" I protest.
"Just tell the professors that you're sick."
"They'll send me to Madam Pomfrey."
"Well, that's a good idea. Just explain your condition to her, and she can help you right away."
"NO!"
"No? You don't want to stop this madness?" Ginny's voice is laced with frustration.
Madness? Is it madness? Am I acting like a mad person right now?
"I mean, we could wait for your brothers. They can help," I mumble, feeling torn.
"…Right, but you should still stay in your room for now."
"How can I? I need to go to my classes!" I argue, feeling conflicted.
"And then you'll just keep thinking about him!" Ginny reply back.
"I can't help it, Gin! I want to stop, but I just can't stop thinking about Malfoy!"
Ginny is taken aback, as if something had just clicked in her mind. She sit down on the edge of my bed, looking at me with an expression of defeat.
"…Okay. I didn't realize how hard it would be for you to resist this feeling. I'm sorry you're in this situation. I'm partly responsible. If I hadn't asked Fred and George to make that potion, you wouldn't be in this state."
I don't fully understand why Ginny had made that request to her brothers. All I know is that it had worked—now, I am completely consumed by thoughts of Draco Malfoy. I have the memory of how I hated him before. But now, that hate is replaced by something entirely new—something so overwhelming that I couldn't even remember how strong my dislike for him had been, or if it had ever truly existed.
"It's okay, Ginny. It's not that I dislike the feeling."
"Now." Ginny corrects me.
"Yeah, now. And, it doesn't hurt that Malfoy is... well, handsome."
"But he's a jerk!"
"I don't know. He's less annoying, I guess. He hasn't called me 'Mudblood' again."
Right, he hasn't called me that in ages. Not just me—he doesn't call Harry and Ron names either. He's stopped badmouthing us altogether. I'm not sure when it changed, I just noticed one day that it didn't happen anymore.
"Hermione, I never thought I'd see you fall for Draco Malfoy like this."
"I know. Me neither."
"Hermione?"
"Hm?" I mutter, still lost in thought, my mind swirling around Draco and everything that had changed.
"Swear that you won't take the same class with him."
"...I don't know, Ginny. I can't just—"
"You should! Swear it right now!" Ginny snaps, her frustration rising. She stands there, hands on her hips, her eyes burning with determination.
"I... I don't even know what I feel, Gin!" I shoot back, my voice is softer now, unsure. "How can I swear something when I don't understand it?"
"You have to! You're acting insane! This isn't you, Hermione!" Ginny is pacing now, her voice shaking with annoyance. "You're not thinking straight! What if you do something you'll regret?"
"I don't want to feel like this, but I can't make it stop!" I grip my hair in frustration. "You don't understand, I... I don't even know what this is! I just feel... something, and I can't make it go away!"
"Swear it, Hermione!" Ginny's voice is loud, almost desperate.
"Gin, I can't!"
"You have to! You're not you! You're acting like a—like a—"
"A what?" I yell back, feeling my own frustration rise. "A crazy person? A love-struck idiot? I don't know, Ginny! I don't know what to do!"
Ginny sighs in exasperation, her face red with frustration. "I can't do this, Hermione. You're not listening to me!" With one last angry glance, she storms out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I stare at the door, trying to make sense of everything. My heart pound, my mind spinning in circles. Why is Ginny so stubborn? Doesn't she understand? I don't even understand. But when Draco crosses my mind, my chest tightens, and my stomach flutters. It isn't right, is it?
A quiet voice in my head whispers: This isn't you. You're smarter than this.
Ginny is right in a way. I can't keep feeling this way. Whatever this is, it has to stop.