XXIII

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Hermione.

FACING SOMEONE WHO PUT YOU THROUGH A LOT OF PAIN ISN'T THAT EASY. Or that hard. I guess it's memories that accompany the person that make confronting so... hurtful.

Seeing him was the equivalent of being run over by a truck and then having a brick house crush you. Or, jumping from a plane without a parachute and landing face first on the ground.

Whatever the scenario was, the worst thing is that I survived even after I felt like that. At this point, I am sure that death is the only escape from the ache I feel in my heart.

My first instinct when I saw the back of his head was to storm out of the classroom, but Ginny's harsh look made me stay exactly where I was. "I will drag your ass, honey." She said with the sweetest voice ever. If you hadn't heard what she said, you would think she was coaxing, not threatening me.

"Please do, I would rather end up in the Hospital Wing than be in the same room as him." I grunted. The only reply I got was a snort and a roll of her eyes.

"Please remember what I said, Hermione." She pointed a finger at me. "You probably feel like crawling in a hole and dying, but you know what I say? Fake it till you make it. March straight up to his face and tell him, 'that's it, find someone else to play your twisted games with. Little bushy girl is out and through with your bullshit'."

I couldn't help the snicker that escaped my lips. "Thank you, Ginny. I'll make you proud." I weakly smiled.

"You go girl." Were her last words before she cursed and abruptly turned around, realizing class was starting in a couple of minutes.

"See you!" I shouted, but immediately regretted doing so.  The voice in my head muttered 'shit', and face palmed in frustration. Oops.

It all happened so quickly; and dramatically. At first, he froze at the sound of my voice. He was probably expecting me to be dead by now. Then, his head snapped so quickly towards me, I swear I could hear his neck crack. His big hand grasped the top of the chair, and with a simple move he stood up slowly, swiftly. 

Seeing him made me feel so alive, and for a mere second I forgot about the pain he caused me.

In that moment, it was just me and him. Black eyes mixing with brown eyes, both brewing storms behind them. The broken soul looking into the pure soul. The black heart beating at the same pace as the white heart. The kind, selfless, human being analyzing the selfish, closed-off person in front of her.

He didn't dare take another step towards me. Maybe he did like my new look, after all. Maybe his eyes caught the coat of pain I had worn today. The make up made of tears I had put on this morning. The shoes of guilt that have been weighing me since. 

Then, it hit me. My knees shook lightly, almost throwing me off balance. My lungs had become a vacuum. My brain was swirling with dark, menacing thoughts. The walls I had built were starting to chip, chip away with every second passing. My chest was nothing but a void.

His knuckles were turning white from gripping the chair so tightly. I swear I heard him gulp as he took a step towards me. I shook my head, tears threatening to escape my eyes. I didn't know whether I was shaking my head at him or at me to stop. 

He took another, and another. The more he pushed, the more I pulled. He was reaching out to me, but I simply remember turning around and running the hell out of that damned classroom. 

I swung the doors open like a madman. I looked right and left, noticing the corridors were deserted. Not even the Professor was anywhere to be seen, luckily. I took the left turn immediately, not even bothering to turn around. For a second, I thought I had escaped my predator. I hadn't.

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