Unconditionally

A chilling gust of wind almost knocks the girl off her feet.  - Oh!.. Stumbling into someone’s shoulder, Hermione mutters an apology. Smiling awkwardly, she holds out a crumpled piece of paper that had fallen from a passerby’s pocket.  To the surprise of the brown-haired man, he gently moves her hand away, hastily moving on.  Hermione is left staring after the masked stranger. Strange... was there any event in the city today? Maybe he's from the masquerade...  Turning his gaze to the paper in his hands, Granger freezes.  "Wait at night, closer to midnight. And throw away all the flowers.                                                       T.N."  The familiar initials knock all the spirit out of the girl, and she jerks down onto the sidewalk.  Him? Really him?..  T.N. Theodore.  How... no, a stupid question, an incredibly stupid question. He could do anything, if he wanted... And he found her.  Damn it, he found her!  The self-control that had been formed over the years is shattered in an instant.  A scream bursts from the chest, not sparing the vocal cords. The hot liquid on the cheeks returns the former patient of the psychiatric hospital to reality.  She is even more horrified - after all, reality has become no better than Hell. No better - worse.  ***  - Liebling.*  He again... why?!  The girl grabs her temples. But unbidden memories still creep into her clouded head.  "- Do you dream of going to Germany?  "- Since childhood... But no one understands this. "- You are interesting, Hermione. Almost all the girls at Hogwarts dream of France with its romance.  “- So, I’m different.”  “- Do you want to learn German with me?  "- Are you... also interested in Germany?  "- Yes, otherwise I wouldn’t chat with you about her for hours. You agree?" "- Of course, thank you!”  ..Who knew that he began to get carried away with German for the sake of her favor. To get closer to her. Damn scoundrel.  Hermione exhales convulsively. Her throat feels unpleasantly raw, but she needs to say it.  - You... Theodore Nott , - the girl swallows, hardly pronouncing his name - I... I hate you.  Scary, scary, scary, she's lying... stop. Don't think, Granger.  He just smiles. Looking with even more tenderness. Scary, scary, scary, nice ... stop. Don't think, Granger.  From this look, Hermione's legs begin to give way. The feeling of fear has not left her all these years, only at the mention of the former Death Eater.  And now he is standing right in front of her. And he knows everything.  He knows that in her not only fear and hatred have been raging in her for a long time. The girl’s labored breathing does not bother Nott at all. The guy slowly pulls Hermione in, running surprisingly graceful fingers through her curly hair.  - You smell those disgusting flowers again.  Daisies and lilacs. Plants that are so disgusting to him. He loved roses. Just as dangerous, just as unbearable as Theodore himself. Yes, she doesn't like roses. And... him too. That's why I always bought shampoo with an irritating scent. The feeling of insubordination gave her a bit of confidence.  Feeling a soft touch on her lips, Hermione winces. Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting, nice... stop. Don't think so, Granger.  - Look at me.  The devil turns her face towards him.  Familiar features.  Familiar curls.  Familiar eyes.  ..Hateful. Yes, hated ones. And no others.  And also... a scar. The most acceptable thing about Theodore. After all, she left this scar.  Catching the girl's gaze, Nott breaks into a satisfied grin. Oh, how her eyes burn at the sight of this mark... He fell in love with this ugliness because of her. After all, the scar was made by her. On emotions. Then she felt something towards him other than eternal fear. Even if it was hatred. And now... now there is something else.  - Do you want to touch it?  Granger winces. He noticed. Quickly looking away, she shakes her head. Although it is useless, she has a tiny bit of hope. That he won't get into her thoughts.  Then he grabs her hand and runs it over his face with some trepidation. Stopping at the indentation in the form of a scar, he freezes, peering into Hermione's eyes.  Again.  The girl shudders with disgust and tries to hold back the accumulating moisture. The eyes burn, but this is nothing compared to the feeling... an unbearable feeling of shame.  He already knows about everything. About everything she thinks. About the fact that she is scared of him to the point of madness. This is clear as day and without legillation.  That she was always interested in touching his “wound.” She admits this, unable to withstand the pressure. And she's sick. From herself.  That she dreamed of pressing... and tearing Nott's skin.  So as not to think about her smell. Her roughness.  So that there would not even be a thought of touching her...  He knew that he was hated by her, but she was still drawn to him! No... She hates... anything, but not him!  Hermione screams. Heart-rending, doomed... insane. The now unnecessary thought flashes through my head that the three-year treatment has gone down the drain.  The brown-haired woman grabs strands of hair, tearing them out by the roots.  Choking. The body trembles.  Accustomed to such disruptions, the guy pats Granger on the head. He hugs you close, quietly humming a melody.  Why... he...  A melody that makes you want to cry and laugh.  "I love you   So open your heart and just let it begin   Open your heart and just let it begin Open your heart and just let it begin Open your heart and just let it begin"  Tears still well up before laughter escapes from the chest.  Relief. Strange for this situation. But it always came along with these solemn, desperate... crazy notes. The same as she.  This Muggle song seemed more... magical to him than the others. Another thing that connected them. Vision is blurry. The girl sees only fuzzy silhouettes and subconsciously reaches out to the closest one.  To him.  Something explodes inside. Releasing feelings locked deep in her soul. Abnormal feelings for her tormentor. Desperate signals are ringing in her head.  Are these really her feelings? Thoughts?.. Is her mind really hers? “No, silly. He's got him, you know?"  She's not sure of anything. She'll just do it. She'll say it. Yes, later she'll regret it. Yes, later she'll hate herself. Later it'll be different. But that's all later. Then.  Taking a breath, Hermione opens her lips.  “I love you…   Unconditionally   Unconditionally I will… love you Unconditionally.."  And then these lips cover someone else’s. The crazy combination of color aromas does not drive you crazy.  They have already lost their minds. ​