"Going somewhere?"
My heart sank. The cold tone of a familiar voice made my blood run equally as cold. I was caught red-handed on my way sneaking out of the common room by the last person I wanted to have myself seen at this moment.
I thought I could understand partially of how he felt back when the roles were reversed.
"Ron," I fixed my posture and acted like I wasn't nervous at all, "you're still up at this hour?"
"Shouldn't I be asking you the same?" He crossed his arms.
"Well, yeah," I shrugged and tried to sound as causal as possible like nothing suspicious was going on, "I have somewhere to be."
"You'll go to Malfoy," he stated.
"Actually," I was annoyed, "no. I'm not going to see Malfoy. I don't think I need to report my every move to you, do I?"
"Listen to yourself," he scoffed. He walked up to me and stopped in a distance that was a little too close for comfort. My mind was racing. I wasn't ready for this. I wasn't ready to hear what he had to say. "How can we ever have a proper conversation when you're this defensive all the time?"
"I'm bring defensive?" I sneered. "What about you then? You've been provoking me every chance you get. You must hold a serious grudge against me, don't you?"
"I hold nothing against you," he rubbed his eyes. "Although I can't say the same for you."
"What are you trying to say?" I became increasingly impatient.
"This whole thing with Malfoy," his tone turned stern as he locked eyes with me, "it's for show, isn't it?"
Does he know something he shouldn't know of? Did he find out somehow? No, no way. He's bluffing. That mist be it. Thoughts flooded my mind, and I clenched my fists to keep calm.
"Where did you get that from? Don't be absurd!"
"You're flustered," he got even closer, "and that means I'm right."
I took a step back.
"It was only a wild guess, but it seems that guess is correct," he pressed on. "Tell, did you approach him, or did he approach you with this ridiculous idea? Did he play the role well and offer you the love and affection you couldn't get from me, or anyone who's half-decent?"
"You think too highly of yourself," my anger manifested into a jeer. Despite my fury and how tempted I was to slap him in the face, I kept my voice low so that no one would wake up to witness this ludicrous argument. "Do you have to be like this? Why do you have to be so cruel? What do you want from me? I start to think that you're doing this because you find it entertaining. You claim you want to move on, but what you really want, is to have a grip on me. You want me to never to be able to get over you. That's what you want."
"Stay away from Malfoy," that was all he said to all of my questions. "It's for your own good."
"For my own good, or for your own good?" I pointed at him. "Or is it for your ego?"
"Hermione…"
"I don't want to talk anymore, and I'm not planning to leave Malfoy," I turned my back to him. "I have to leave now. If you want to make yourself any lower, feel free to report me."
"You're helpless," he said coldly.
"That makes the two of us," I said as I got over to the other side.
***
It took me a while to come to the conclusion that no matter how hard I tried or forced myself to grow an interest in Quidditch, it was an unconquerable quest.
On Saturday, while the spirits of everyone else in Gryffindor were at their peak, I dreaded and dragged myself to the game.
Then came to question: which side should I be on?
It seemed that other people have the same question as well. During the game, I felt constant stares coming from all directions and overheard someone discussing how I would react if Slytherin had won. Would I cheer for Malfoy, or would I console my friends while glaring to the other side like others?
It won't be a problem if Gryffindor wins, I thought, then I just need to say a few comforting words to Malfoy.
Naturally, things would ever go in the direction I want, and Slytherin won.
Here came trouble. I had baked some of those pastries Malfoy liked – and miraculously not caught – and brought them with me as he had asked. I thought Gryffindor would win, and I could just sneak out when everyone celebrated in the common room and gave Malfoy those without being noticed.
Now I saw quietly in the corner of the common room twisting my thumbs and waiting for my opportunity to leave. The defeated Gryffindors were sighing, complaining, and cursing. A sense of guilt gradually shrouded me, and I became increasingly stressed out for no apparent reason.
That was it. I had to leave and get some fresh air. I kept my eyes on Ron on my journey to the door. Luckily, he was surrounded and was too busy to keep tabs on what I was up to.
I was halfway out of the door when I heard the familiar cold voice that sounded exactly the same as last time:
"Going somewhere?"
I gritted my teeth. After closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I turned to face him:
"Yes, there's somewhere I need to be."
"You're going to celebrate with Malfoy," he sounded harsher than ever. "He's clearly more important than us now."
Everyone was watching. And I didn't how to respond to his accusation. Their eyes were judging, and I felt wronged. Yet, I was too powerless to change my situation. No matter what I said next, it would only be taken as an excuse.
"You'd rather be with him than us," he added. Harry and Ginny tried to stop him, but he brushed off their arms.
"Hermione," Ginny said, "go on. Just go. It's fine."
Red-eyed, I stared at Ron for a brief moment before leaving. He called out for me. I didn't look back.
***
"You are late," Malfoy was waiting for me outside the Slytherin common room, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed. "Did they give you a hard time?"
"No," I lied.
"You're a horrible liar," he walked up to me. "Did Weasley give you hard time?"
I didn't answer.
"Well, forget about him at least for now," he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I let him. "Now is the time to hang out with the champions."
"What?" I refused to move. "I'm here just to you the pastries. You didn't say anything about me hanging out with the Slytherins."
"I didn't," he curled his bottom lip. "But I have a feeling that spending some quality time with us Slytherins is better than going back to the Gryffindor tower."
I hesitated.
"Come on, Granger," he took me by the hand and began dragging me to the door, "you'll be fine."
Oh, for Merlin's sake, what did I get myself into?