Prologue

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|The Past|
June 28, 1997

     WHY IS it possible to find oneself irreversibly in love with the very individual who inflicted so much pain upon them? Hermione, despite her vast knowledge of the world, did not know the answer. The very question was unsettling and she could feel it down to her very core. It's illogical — how the heart tricks you into falling for someone while the mind's unrelenting voice of reason clearly objects. Hermione's mind, which was a very impressive mind indeed, could unfortunately attest to this concept.

"Only time holds the capacity to heal a broken heart," her mother once made a point to assure.

Hermione understood the statement to be wildly inaccurate, for time had not proven to heal a single thing. Although it had been one year and two months since she'd severed ties with that foul prat, the wound still felt absurdly new.

Oh, how she despised when he caught her gaze in class. Or when late at night, involuntary thoughts of piercing grey eyes and golden white hair drifted into view . . .

Granted, the two were never much of an ideal pairing.

Anyone with brain cells and a basic understanding of wizarding history could see it. Hermione certainly did. When objections were born from either side, she was not the least bit surprised. Among her very opinionated friends, Ginny was possibly the most vocal on the matter. According to her, the couple was mismatched from the very start. A relationship doomed to end.

Hermione always found herself unable to disagree.

Eventually, there came a time when she could no longer dismiss how expectations weighed upon them both. It simply did not work. For those reasons, she ended it. However . . .

She turned left.

Turning left was not her usual route, partly because it doubled the distance between the Great Hall and the library. But it was a last minute decision, you see. Completely spur of the moment, when this subconscious impulse urged her to shift tracks. After all, there was no harm in a change of scenery.

Hermione did not realize she'd been holding onto a sliver of hope until making it halfway down the corridor. It was a funny sort of stirring emotion in the center of her chest, and she'd been perfectly intent on ignoring it. But that was that — a silly indulgence. One she did not expect to be validated or acknowledged.

Unfortunately, things do not alway go according to plan. This became abundantly clear when her sights landed on him.

Her heart replied with a stutter of beats, followed by an automatic frown.

It was as if Draco had set her aflame, and Hermione was still burning. No matter what she did to try and contain the damage.

Maybe she could scurry off before he noticed—

Too late.

A butterfly effect was then set in motion, altering a great many things that had yet to pass.

Draco was tucked inside one of Hogwarts' wall pockets, seemingly lost in thought. But he had been staring solemnly at the ground, and when Hermione's shoes entered his peripheral vision, he stared up at her. The Slytherin's grim expression turned blank and guarded.

She froze under his calculating gaze.

"Why are you always around when I'm upset?"

Hermione blinked. "That's the only time you're ever alone, I think. At least as of late."

Draco's lips twitched. "Keeping tabs on me, Granger?"

"Of course not," she answered all too quickly. Obviously it was a lie, and Hermione was a terrible liar. She made a mental note to work on that. He scoffed lightly, continuing to watch her, and she wondered if he could still read her as well as she could read him. "So why are you? Upset, I mean."

Je hebt het einde van de gepubliceerde delen bereikt.

⏰ Laatst bijgewerkt: Feb 18, 2021 ⏰

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