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68.62% Hey, I said you are mine (Dramione) / Chapter 35: The ways to solve lovers’ quarrels (1)

Bab 35: The ways to solve lovers’ quarrels (1)

"Have you lost your mind?" I finally managed to escape and stumbled a few steps back so that a distance could be kept, "What was that about?"

"Like I just told you, I can't pretend anymore," He sounded broken. Part of me even pitied him for a brief second, though that feeling was quick to wear out, "I tried, but I really don't think I can let you go."

"Is this some kind of sick joke?" It took a great deal of effort to not yell at him, "Is this your way of getting back to me, as if the mental torment you've caused so far isn't enough?"

"It's not a joke, and I'm sorry for hurting your feelings," He attempted to come closer, but I stepped further back to avoid him, "Please, Hermione, you should stop pretending too. Admit it, you don't love Malfoy. It's time for us to forget about it and get back together."

"For Merlin's sake, tell me you aren't serious," I heard myself laughing out loud. I was mad at him, but everything just turned more than comical. It would be an absolutely delight to have a pouring rain at this moment so that more emotional atmosphere could be added to this dramatic re-enactment straight out of a movie, "Ron, I don't know what to tell you. You need to wake up from the imaginative world you've created for yourself."

He seemed confused.

"I'm sorry you felt that way," I sighed, unsure why I wanted to reason with him, "We don't need to talk about the past, we need to look at the present and the future. You need to realize we are through and through. And as much as to your dismay, I do love Malfoy, whom I desperately need to go check on right now. "

"So, you really aren't dating Malfoy because you want to make me jealous?" The red-haired boy frowned as he slowly lowered his head with his voice fading into the background.

"No," I said quietly but firmly with a bitter smile, "It might come off as a game to you, but for me, it's real. It's time for us to part ways, Ron. If you want to make a clean cut and never to speak to me again, I'll respect that. And if you want to remain friends, for one last time, I'll be here with open arms."

He stood there in somberness. I couldn't read what was on his mind. He used to be simple, almost too simple. The kind of people that wrote everything on their faces and could be easily comprehended. But that part of him was gone. I wasn't sure if it was because he had changed, or because I distanced myself from him.

With distances come strangeness.

"You are too nice. You are always so damn nice," He said flatly, still had his head lowered. The sky was getting gloomier and gloomier and I could smell the freshness in the air that foreshadowed a thunderstorm. I knew he was withholding his emotions though he never used to do that. Abruptly, he switched from staring the muddy ground, the legacy from last night's icy rain, to staring into me, with blues filled his eyes, "I see. I can't say I understand what you see in Malfoy, but at last I can see clear now. I guess it's time to move on, for both of us, especially for me."

I nodded and forced a smile. This didn't seem right; I couldn't tell what but there was no doubt something was off. Or perhaps I was just worrying for nothing; perhaps he had changed for the better; perhaps he accepted the fact as it was. No more impulsiveness, no more arguing.

I hated it how that was when the rain fell, first drizzling, then in no time it began to pour. And in a perfectly theatrical timing, Ginny and Lavender got here. My wish was granted. And now I changed my mind and wished for a bright, sunny day; wished for the story of my life didn't come off as a cliché of a love story.

But I wished too much. It had all become too hard to handle.

"What the hell?" Ginny cut in between her brother and I. She began yelling at him in a way that I never thought she was able to lose her temper like such, "Are you bonkers? Just why would you do that? You purposefully caused Malfoy to fall down his bloody broom! Now half of his bones are broken. And how dare you? You disrespected Lavender, violated Hermione and not to mention the pain, figuratively and literally, you brought upon Malfoy."

I peeked over Ginny's left shoulder to see Lavender. She was standing there with her head down, but I could hear the faint sobbing. I was drenched in the rain, with water dripping down my hair and my face. That was the moment I wanted nothing but to leave. I needed to get to Malfoy, I needed to know he was fine. The last thing I wanted is to get caught in the web of drama that I was already tangled in.

I nervously waited for Ron to speak, not knowing what he would say. Would he tell them what he just told me, tell them about how he decisively came to understand, how he decided it was about time for us to say our final goodbyes?

Who was I trying to fool?

As his lips moved to form words, my heart sunk.

"Calm down, you are taking it too seriously," He crossed his arms, "It was just a joke. You should be happy I got Malfoy fall down his broom without using any charm. That bastard deserves a couple broken bones for all his evil doings over the years. Am I right, Hermione?"

When our sights met, behind the disdainfulness in his facade, was the beg for forgiveness.

"Pathetic," I squinted and began shaking my head furiously. Though I did my best to hide my tears, I could taste the mixture of salt and raindrops, "You are pathetic, Ron Weasley."

Ginny started yelling at her brother in frustration again, but I couldn't hear any of her words. I was done with this. I tried to be kind, but the effort was futile.

So, I turned around and ran. Running away was a cowardly move, but I could see no other choice.

When I got to the infirmary, I was soaking wet. Normally I'd hate the state I was in, yet this was the least of my concerns.

"Oh dear, let me get you a towel," Madam Pomfrey said something along that line when she saw me at the door.

"Thank you," I murmured, stumbled inside without waiting for her to return.

Malfoy's bed was at the end of the hall, the only one with the curtains drawn. The day had turned dark, and the dim, orange oil lamp light was shining through the beige colored flax linen curtains. I hurriedly stumbled there, leaving a trail of rainwater behind.

"Hey, sorry I was dealing with, you know," I said softly as I reached to pull open the curtain, "How…"

I stopped mid-sentence when I was greeted by the scene of Pansy Parkinson sitting next in Malfoy, who was seemingly asleep. She was holding his left hand with both of her hands as she propped it against her forehead.


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