บท 7: About what happened in Transfiguration

I was still in a daze when I rushed to Transfiguration with Malfoy two steps behind me. It was astonishingly ridiculous of me to spend the entire night talking with him. The silence after he pulled away was brief, and when I was ready to flee the scene without any further discussion, he grabbed my wrist and said:

"Do you mind staying a bit longer?"

I was reluctant to return to reality, and him asking me to stay actually brought me relief.

"No," I answered and sat back down.

So, we sat out there in the cold and just, well, talked. Perhaps he had finally decided that being open-minded might not actually be a bad thing, he managed to show interest when I spoke about muggle things. Despite he had responded mostly with sarcasm and firm refusal to even remotely mention anything personal when I tried to ask, I still considered this a miracle.

"Enlighten me, Granger," he raised one brow, "why would anyone want to watch tragedies? You said muggles go to the theater for entertainment, and how is it entertainment when something one invests their time in concludes on a sad note?"

"Well," I lifted my shoulder, "maybe you can learn something from a sad ending."

"Such as?"

"Maybe you should tell someone you care about them before it's too late," I threw my hands. "Because you never know what'll happen tomorrow."

"I think this not knowing what'll happen tomorrow logic is a bit silly," he curled his bottom lip. It didn't take long before a mischievous grin made an appearance. "Is that why Weasley shovels his face all the time? Oh, I must eat this slice of cake, who knows what'll happen to me tomorrow?"

I laughed.

"There's a smile," he leaned in a little. "I thought you'd act sulky forever."

I made a face.

"Granger," his teasing tone shifted into sincerity, "tell me, are you falling for me?"

How pretentious and audacious of him to ask me that.

"Of course n…"

My voice faded into the darkness. I was perplexed by how I failure to speak that one simple word.

Was I falling for him? Did I truly know how falling for someone felt like?

I had knowingly and unknowingly accepted the fact that he had walked into my life unapologetically unannounced. He had become a habit, and I had gotten used to having him around. My eyes would search for him in the crowd, and he would barge into my mind when my thoughts idled.

This was dangerous.

"I don't know," I answered honestly.

We were both well aware that we would never have a shared future together. The worlds we belonged in would never intercept, and it would be pointless to attempt anything even if we had fallen for each other.

"I don't know either," he said softly. "So, should we make the best of it?"

My eyes widened.

"After all," he smirked, "you never know what'll happen tomorrow."

I jokingly rolled my eyes.

"And maybe we should watch one of those film things one day."

The night breeze tousled his hair as he wrapped his arms around me: "It's getting cold. We better keep ourselves warm if we want to stay out longer, shouldn't we?"

***

Transfiguration class.

"You look exhausted," Harry nudged me slightly with his elbow and asked concernedly. "Are you ok? Did you stay up all night reading again?"

"No, I was with Malfoy," I yawned. Seeing his frown, I added: "We just talked. Don't get any ideas. I have no plans to get into any sort of trouble with school rules this year."

"I still don't quite understand what you see in him," Harry shook his head.

"Yeah, I know," I mumbled and glanced in Malfoy's direction. He appeared just as tired and was trying his best to keep his eyes open. Sensing my stare, he looked to me and smiled as pointed at me, then pointed to the front of the class.

I blinked a few times and lowered my head to stare at my book.

None of the words Professor McGonagall said had registered. All I could think about was, well, Malfoy – his soft tone, his smile, his arm around me, and his lips.

"Miss Granger, please answer this question," Professor McGonagall's voice snapped me out of my daze.

"Pardon?" I was lost. I turned to Harry, who responded to my plea for help with a shrug. Ron had made the decision to stay as far away from me as possible and was sitting across the room. So, I glanced over at Malfoy. He mouthed some words along the lines of "how would I know if you don't know?'.

"I'm sorry, Professor, I-I don't know," I gave up and said in the lowest possible voice.

"Miss Granger, that's unexpected from you," Professor McGonagall said disappointingly. She then turned to Malfoy: "Perhaps Mr. Malfoy can help Miss Granger answer this question."

Someone whistled. I wanted to disappear.

"I'm afraid I don't the answer either," he said casually.

Someone whistled again. I buried my face in my hands.

"Enough with the disorderly conduct," Professor McGonagall raised one hand. "Five points from Gryffindor and five points from Slytherin. Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Filch has expressed that he needs extra hands to clean trophies in the trophy room, and I'd like you two to take on this task. Please keep in mind that he doesn't wish any magic to be used during the cleaning process."

Part of me wanted to protest on the devastating unfairness of this demand, but I bit my tongue since I didn't want to be in more trouble than I was already in. I peered over at Malfoy, and it was clear that he was in a terrible mood.

"Well, now Hermione has to teach Malfoy how to clean trophies by hand," Ron said to Harry after class, completely ignoring the fact I was right next to him, "and he's going to know how I felt in the second year."

How could Ron Weasley remember things from the second year was beyond me.

"How come you didn't know the answer?" Malfoy tapped on my shoulder and began walking beside me. He rose his eyebrow, "I didn't expect there's a question you wouldn't know the answer to."

"I'll take that as a compliment," I folded my arms. "However, to let you know the truth – I zoned out, ok? I zoned out."

"That's even more unexpected," Malfoy coughed to cover up his laugh. I glared at him. He smirked and pinched my cheek. "But know that you are at fault for my punishment."

"Right, it's not like I'm not being punished together with you," I curled my bottom lip and wrapped my arm around his. "Come on, it won't be too hard. You'll see."

That was we both froze. Him pinching my cheek and me holding onto his arm came so naturally that neither of us had given it a second thought before we acted.

I immediately let go of his arm and moved slightly to the side.

"Do you think McGonagall knows we're dating?" He cleared his throat and put his hands in his pockets.

"If she does, she's probably wondering what compelled me to make such a horrible choice," I said.

"Horrible choice, huh?" He didn't laugh or return my banter with his usual sarcasm. On the contrary, he almost sounded upset.

My heart sunk, and I began to regret what I had said. As I frantically trying to scramble together words to formulate a light-hearted apology, he shrugged and shifted back to his usual tone:

"So, is it really not that bad to clean trophies without magic?"