Unexpected Love

chapter 5

I sat alone in the dim light of my room, the weight of the past pressing down on me. The image of Hermione's scarred arm, a stark reminder of her suffering, haunted my thoughts. I had stood by, a silent witness to her torment, a coward who had failed to act.

I thought back to the Battle of Hogwarts, a chaotic whirlwind of magic and despair. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, the unlikely trio, had risked their lives to save me, time and time again. While I had been consumed by darkness, they had fought for light.
A strange, bittersweet nostalgia washed over me as I recalled my Hogwarts days.

I had always admired Hermione, her sharp mind and unwavering determination. I remember the Yule Ball, watching her dance with Viktor Krum, a pang of jealousy piercing my heart. She was beautiful, elegant, and utterly captivating. It was then that I realized the depth of my feelings, a complex mix of admiration and resentment. Though I'd never admit it.

I had realized my feelings for Hermione long before the Battle of Hogwarts. When Slughorn had brewed the Amortentia potion, I had been terrified to describe the scent. The potion had revealed the truth: the sweet tang of tangerines, the comforting scent of parchment, and the delicate fragrance of roses.

Hermione was always snacking on tangerines, her fingers stained with the vibrant orange. She spent countless hours scribbling on parchment, her handwriting neat and precise. And she always carried herself with an air of elegance, her perfume a subtle blend of floral scents, particularly roses.

As I thought about it, a blush crept across my face. I had been so oblivious to my own feelings, caught up in the petty rivalries of adolescence.

Shaking off the intrusive thoughts, I made my way downstairs. The door to the library was slightly ajar. Peeking inside, I saw Hermione curled up on a cozy armchair, lost in a book. I stood there, watching her, unsure of what to say. She turned her head, catching me in the act. I stumbled forward, landing face-first on the floor.

My face flushed with embarrassment as I met her gaze. "What are you looking at, Granger?" I muttered, trying to play it cool.
She stared at me, confusion etched on her face. I turned away, feeling a surge of awkwardness. I retreated outside, taking a seat on a nearby bench.

I sat on the garden bench, a cigarette dangling from my lips. Why couldn't I just talk to her? We were going to be living together, for God knows how long. I needed to stop lurking around like a creep.

Hermione emerged from the house, a look of irritation on her face. "Why were you being so weird earlier?" she asked. "Did you need something, Malfoy?"
I cleared my throat, trying to sound nonchalant. "I was just seeing what you were doing. It's my house. I can do what I want." I winced at my rudeness. What was wrong with me?

She glared at me. "I'll find somewhere else to stay soon. I won't bother you any longer."
Panic surged through me. "No, stay!" I blurted out, louder than I intended.
She raised an eyebrow, surprised by my outburst. "You want me to stay?" she asked, incredulous.

I hesitated, searching for a plausible excuse. "Voldemort's people are still out there. This house is untraceable. You're safe here. Besides, we should stick together."

Hermione stared at me, her expression unreadable. "I have nowhere else to go, anyway," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "But if we're going to live together, we need to establish some ground rules."
I scoffed. "Ground rules, Granger? This is my house."
She rolled her eyes. "Obviously. Which is why we need rules. I'll come up with some. We'll talk after dinner. Smell you later, Dancing Queen."

She stormed off, leaving me blushing and bewildered. She still hadn't forgotten about my singing incident. I escaped to my room throwing myself on my bed and groaned, burying my face in my pillow. Things were changing, and I wasn't sure if I was ready for it.