The ways of falling in love are true arts. Some at a young age with all the innocence and naivety that are carried into the adulthood, which is the kind of love that ripens with age; some seal their fate at the meet of the eye, consciously or subconsciously drawn to the one destiny has brought to them; others are born out of lust and desire, the kind of longing for someone who certainly not belong, and will never belong to them. The kind of dangerous hope that shall never be wished yet fulfilled with temptations.
Then, stood among all these lines were Malfoy and me, who knowingly, against the best of our judgements, reached for the forbidden fruit.
The series of events leading up to this moment flew by in front of my eyes as I desperately trying to figure out if I slipped my secret out to Ginny. And as I finally came to the sense that the pie was falling and panickily trying to save it from hitting the floor, a hand reached through the gap between my arms and held the bottom of the pale, china plate to keep it in balance.
"I knew you've been eyeing that pie, but I didn't know your intention was to drop it," said the smirking devil and I looked at him half surprised and half thankfully.
"Well, guess someone's not paying much attention," I laughed awkwardly and didn't respond to his comment. Steadily and carefully, I put a slice of pie onto my plate before putting it back to where it once safely was.
"Or maybe that certain someone is startled because their secret was exposed," Ginny winked at me before her sight paused on me thoughtfully for a few seconds, then immediately diverted her attention to the mashed potatoes near Ron, demanding him to pass her the gravy along with it.
Part of me felt she was just messing around, but the other part of me felt she knew something that she should've never known.
During the rest of the time at the dinner table, I felt tensed. Perhaps it was only my paranoia, or Ginny was occasionally glancing at my direction, as if she was telling me how she could see through my façade and ready to tear through my lies.
Despite knowing amending the broken friendship with Ron was probably a good idea, I didn't want to take the move. I was tired and couldn't be bothered. What was the point? Even if we wanted to, both him and I knew we could never go back to where we once were, purely as friends, before the whole relationship affair started.
It would be a losing battle, to which was a phrase I never liked.
The tensed feeling amplified after we all left the dinner table. On the surface, or most likely to the majority of us here, the atmosphere was joyful, but not for me. And presumably not for Malfoy either. We, ironically, were sitting in the center and on the floor, surrounded by the others cheerfully chatting and catching up about their lives in the past few months while they were away from each other. They were like a family, and once upon a time I was part of this family. But those days were long gone, and I couldn't make the judgement on whether that was because I gained something better, or it was simply for the worst.
Malfoy and I were two outcasts trapped inside the circle, wishing nothing but to escape.
"So, um, Hermione?" As I was sunken in my own thoughts, I heard a familiar voice came from afar and pulled me through the thin barrier I created between my mind and the reality. I aimlessly looked up and locked eyes with the ginger-haired man who was my friend, then my lover, and finally, a stranger. He was sitting in an old armchair, with his girlfriend sitting on the left armrest, with her arms around his neck, looking at me with a smile that I couldn't comprehend.
"Yes?" I rubbed my eyes to focus. As usual, Christmas feast always made me sleepy afterwards, "What's up?"
"I just want to say, and, ugh, you too, Malfoy," He was choking on his words and I knew he was doing his best to hold back the resentment in speaking to us, "You know, earlier when you got here.."
"Last time I hear you speaking such incoherently was when your spell backfired and you were spitting out slugs," Malfoy rose his eyebrow with his usual smirk, totally disregard my attempt of stop him from provoking Ron by squeezing his arm.
"You can be nice for once during the holidays and not make such distasteful jokes," I forced out a smile and squeezed his arm harder, to which he curled his lips. I could see the expression on Ron's face changed, and I knew he began to get agitated. The last thing I wanted during the time here was for them to fight. Fortunately, Lavender whispered something into his ear, and he sighed.
"Listen, I'm not going to argue with you," Ron frowned. I was surprised how he was able to control his temper, "I was about to say that I'm sorry for slamming the door on you earlier, but on a second thought, someone like you doesn't deserve my apology."
"Are you trying to say you are better than me?" Malfoy said with a sneer, "But Weasley, you and I both know that is far from the truth."
"Hey, you know what," I quickly intervened before anything went further. Malfoy was testing how far Ron would go before finally losing it, and I wouldn't allow that to happen. Not today, not now, I was not ready to take it that far, "I think Malfoy and I will go to our room; we'll see you in the morning."
Malfoy didn't object the idea. Instead, he silently stood up and waited until I said all my forcefully polite goodnights to those around us and thanked Mrs. Weasley for the dinner. Then he began walking toward the door with me a few steps behind him.
I felt lucky in a sense that the Weasleys built a guest house right next to their home, where they decided to put Malfoy and I in. Though it seemed like we got the best place compare to the other guests, I was sure they did that so that Malfoy wouldn't get into any fruitless altercation with anyone.
"It's been a long day, isn't it?" He said as we open the door.
"Don't pick fights," I sighed and sat on the bed with a long sigh, "As if they don't already dislike us."
"Well, that's more of your problem," He grinned and said sarcastically, "They never liked me, so I think I'll live."
"Oh please," I laughed.
"Enough about the Weasleys," He shrugged. Then with a cunning smile hanging off his thin lips, he set his left hand on the bed next to my thigh and began unbuttoning his shirt with his right hand, "I saw they have a tub here, mind joining me?"
"I see the topic got changed rather quickly," I smiled as I pressed my lips against his.