Author's Note:
Hope you enjoy it!
This was my entry for a creative writing workshop I joined, thus all swear words were changed into clean words, and I didn't want to change them back again. Please excuse my laziness.

Note: Any recognized quotes belong entirely to their author.

Please review!

by AddictedtoReadingJC

"The moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease for ever to be able to do it." ~J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

He doesn't love you anymore.

Draco Malfoy doesn't love you, Hermione Granger, anymore.

They've always said it would happen; ironic isn't it? You can practically hear their voices- gleeful murmurs: taunting you, mocking you, "Told you so!"

But this time they're true- you've never thought it would; that the rumours were real. Not rumours anymore! Facts.

You can see it in his eyes; he's looking at her again, isn't he? Isn't he?

He's always looking at her. He doesn't even listen to you anymore. But he never needed to, did he? He knew everything about you already.

"Here you go, Granger."

"Thank you. Amaryllises, Malfoy?

He grins easily, "I know your favourite flowers are roses, Granger, but amaryllises mean radiant beauty- from inside to outside."

You blush, and when someone asks you next time, your favourite flowers are amaryllises.

Something happened.

What? Why?


He doesn't seem to hear.


He looks at you for a moment and leaves the room.

Maybe he's bored of you.

It frightens you, doesn't it? The prospect - of him getting bored of you?

It can happen. It might be happening. You smile bitterly. Why lie to yourself? It's happened already.

Why? Is she better? More interesting?

But she's not smart! Maybe he likes brainless, dimwitted blondes? But he chose you once- the brightest witch of your age!

You think of Ron almost immediately. What is it with guys liking hopeless, foolish imbeciles? Isn't intelligence a beauty?

You turn in your seat and he's suddenly next to you. But it's wrong because he doesn't look that tall and freckly, does he?

"'Mione?" the-one-who-doesn't-look-like-Draco waves in your face.

"Draco?" you ask nervously.

His face is contorted and he looks distressed.

"No, 'Mione, he's gone."




You realize that you've said it out loud. You stand up from your seat, your face flaming.

"No, he's not."

Because that's all you can say to convince yourself.

You bolt out of the Great Hall because you know the whispers have started. Instinctively, you veer towards the Astronomy Tower.

Your pillow doesn't smell like him anymore. For months you have fell asleep to the scent of sandalwood. But it stopped. It stopped last week, didn't it? Because he's not coming back anymore.

You wonder if he thought of you before he left.

Did it hurt when he fell from grace?

Were you the last thing on his mind?

Is it because you fight?

But he liked it, didn't he? He told you last month!

"This can't work, Malfoy! We're too different- we will tear each other apart-"

"Maybe that's the point, Granger. We're perfect because we're not. We don't have to make sense, or to be perfect! We might even be better all messed up! Yes, we tear each other apart- and we fix each other again."

The memories come rushing back to you - accompanied with a sharp pang in your chest. You stumble, and tears threaten to spill over, but you continue your trek up the Astronomy Tower.

Is it because of your blood?

Is it because you're a Mudblood and he's a Pureblood?

Is it because he has magic running in his veins but you do not?

Is it because he claimed he never hated you all those years but you know beliefs like those ingrained from such a long time still flickers underneath?

Did he still believe in the words he said so long ago? The ones he said didn't mean anything?

"It didn't mean anything, Granger," he said firmly. "My father planted the beliefs in my head when I was a child, and I'm sorry that it made me feel compelled to say what I wanted to say."

But you're already torn- because his friends keep reminding you about your filthy bloodline, how you didn't deserve to receive the power of magic. Didn't he understand? Didn't he care?

He grips your face in his hands, his eyes fierce.

"No. Don't even go there. You're not allowed to think of yourself that way." He traces the scar on your arm. Mudblood. In a sudden movement, he rips the sleeve of his shirt up, exposing the Dark Mark engraved on his pale skin.

"It doesn't mean anything," he whispers against your ear. "And yours doesn't mean anything either."

Is it because of your friends?

Their snarky remarks? Their comments, their judgment, their stance?

Is it because you care? You care about their opinions and how the world sees you. Didn't he?

"I can't do this anymore! I'm sick of hearing speculations about me getting involved with a Death Eater! I can't do this, Draco, I'm not you!"

His face hardens, and his voice grows cold.

"Is that not true? What's wrong with seeing a former Death Eater?" You can hear the sneer in his voice but it only aggravates you further.

"Nothing's wrong- because nothing's wrong to you! I'm not like you- I have feelings, Draco! You can't expect me to ignore what everyone's been saying about me- about us!"

"You think I don't care? You think I don't have feelings?" His voice is getting quieter, and you know he's enraged. "You're seriously messed up!...Is it because of your image?" You freeze and he sees it. "It is, isn't it?" he is seething. "Well, I'm SORRY!" he explodes, "I don't have an image! I'm scum off the street and if this bothers you, I apologize!"

He stalks away, and all you can do is watch him leave.

Is it because they beat him up silently every week, and you didn't know until Ron let it slip last Monday? Is it because you truly believed him when he said the bruises and scars came from Quidditch practice? Or maybe it's because you wanted to believe his lie?

"You don't trust me, do you?"

You smile wanly and pretend to read your book.

"You need to learn to trust, Granger. Or else no one would trust you."

And funnily enough, maybe you did.

You start when you suddenly hear commotion round the corner. Another couple is quarreling; the girl's tears are flying, her fists pummeling the boy's chest. The boy holds his hands up, surrendering, when abruptly- he tugs her in for a kiss.

Your heart lapses and you walk past them quickly.

You loved it when he surprised you after an argument. He did it all the time and you sometimes still wondered if he would come back.

"What the-"

Your eyes bulge when you see the gigantic letters scrawled upon the wall leading to the Astronomy Tower.

"Mr. Malfoy!"

"Yes, Professor McGonagall?"

"What is the meaning of this?"

"What, Professor?"

You stifle a snicker at his innocent expression and momentarily stiffen under McGonagall's frosty glare.

She turns back to face him and you grin at him despite your anxiousness.

"Don't act ignorant, Mr. Malfoy. Were you the one who wrote-," she squints at the humongous words. "DM plus HG on this wall?"

You suppress a giggle at his unusual expression of seriousness.

"Yes, Professor."

"And why, may I ask?"

"She was disappointed in me, Professor." At McGonagall's raised eyebrow, he continues. "Hermione Granger was not pleased at me because she thought I didn't want to publicize our relationship."

"I see. And did this little activity help in mending your relationship, Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall asks, her voice crisp with sarcasm.

"Yes, Professor. Greatly."

"And you, Miss Granger? Are you satisfied?" She suddenly asks you, catching you unaware.

"Er-yes. Yes, Professor McGonagall."

"Very well. I trust both of you to clean up the mess and arrive at my office this evening for detention."

She turns to leave before catching sight of both of your expressions.

"And I do hope this lesson teaches you to choose other forms of declaring your affections, Mr. Malfoy."

She sweeps away and leaves you with a hallway of students and a silly smile on your face.

You heave yourself up the last flight of stairs, panting heavily. Exhausted, you lean against the wall, trying to regain your breath. You've never walked this much in your life, not even when you came up here with him.

"Come on, slowpoke!"

You were never one for physical exertion and you absolutely loathe him for forcing you up to who-knows-where.

"I wish you wouldn't blindfold me!" You stumble unceremoniously and he chuckles as he steadies you.

"It's part of the surprise." You can hear his smile and you glower at his direction.

"I'm tired," you can't help whining, feeling like a four year old.

"No chance, Granger, I'm not carrying that bushy animal on your head."

"Stop insulting my hair! Prat- ooof-"

You're caught off guard when he suddenly hoists you up like a sack of flour.

"Oi! Let me go, Malfoy!" You kick blindly, but his grip is as stubborn as ever.

"Stop kicking me, Granger," he growls softly and before you know it, you've already arrived at the top and he's setting you down.

He whips off your blindfold and all at once you're aware of the glorious sight of the castle and how his shirt brings out his eyes. He looks slightly amused when he catches you staring and you redden.

"Here," he's nudging back a stone slab on the wall near the floor and your eyes widen when it gives way. He hands you a book and you smile when you see the familiar title.

"I had to see you. I have fought against my better judgment, my family's expectations, the inferiority of your birth by rank and circumstance. All these things I am willing to put aside and ask you to end my agony," he quotes.

All you could do was smile and hope your tears do not betray you.

You lean out of the window of the Astronomy Tower and the cold harsh wind bites you on the cheek. You pry the book with its faded pages out of its hiding place, smiling softly when you catch sight of the white Amaryllis pressed inside. You inhale and catch a faint scent of sandalwood.

"I won't let you fall."

He insisted you learn how to fly 'professionally' and it's comical because you trusted him with everything but flying.

"Don't even think about thinking about it, Malfoy."

"Why not?"

"I didn't sign up for a flying class when I fell in love with you, Malfoy."

"Gravitation cannot be held responsible for people falling in love." A tiny smirk plays on his lips.

"Einstein, huh? You know Muggle quotes?"

He snorts, rolling his eyes. "He was a half-blood, of course! Where did you think he learnt all those theories?"

You nod mutely, hoping the focus has shifted away from flying.

"Well," he says crisply, "don't think I forgot! You must learn how to fly! Properly!"

You groan and he grins wickedly. "I don't want to learn! Why don't you just tell me the 'secret' of flying?"

Your sarcasm is not lost but he sobers up and presses his lips to your ear. You shiver slightly and feel his feral grin stretching across his face. "The secret to flight is this," he whispers, "you have to do it immediately, before your body realizes it is defying the laws."

You snicker almost immediately. "What? Defying gravity?"

"Yes. Defying everything."

You brace your hands on the window sill and push yourself up. Your knees are shaking yet the view of Hogwarts from here is magnificent and spellbinding. It is certainly not the first time you are overwhelmed by its beauty, but it may be your last.

You lean out of the window. IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou. Because you do trust him and that was all he asked of you, didn't he?

"I won't let you fall."

They were defying everything from the start.

Now you just have to defy gravity.

So you close your eyes and fly.