Among the wreckage of the past

Standing among the rubble that had once been a school, the girl, whose clothes were stained with dirt and dust, looked around, but wherever she went, there were only fragments on her way. Although Hogwarts won and the great dark wizard Voldemort or Tom Riddle lost this battle and disappeared into oblivion, but it still did not affect her with any relief. It was as if something was squeezing her chest hard, not allowing her to breathe in relief and let go of all the fears and horrors that she and her friends had experienced together, in the distant past. This war has claimed so many innocent lives that it is impossible to count, but she could have died in this war. And who would need her if not her friends? Who cared about a Muggle-born sorceress who was smarter than most purebloods? That's right, no one. At this thought, her shining eyes were filled with shiny tears flowing down her cheeks and she pressed her palms to her lips, suppressing her cries of despair from despair. Her wavy brown hair, once arranged in a neat hairstyle, was unruly in the wind. No matter how hard she tried to remove the hair falling on her face, but it, as luck would have it, fell on her face. How pathetic she looks now. Malfoy would have laughed at her if he had seen the "great know-it-all" who, in all situations, whatever they were, finds a way out, in such a depressed state, as if she had lost the meaning of her life and did not know where to go. "Mudblood!", — echoed, with open contempt, this terrible word from the lips of pure-blooded wizards, who treat Muggles with disdain, dreaming of their destruction, since they undeservedly live in magical Britain. Why all pureblood wizards treat Muggles with such hatred, the girl could not understand this. Suppressing her tears, she wiped them away with the back of her hand and mindlessly wandered around the outer courtyard of the school, often stepping on debris. Everything that once happened within the walls of this school remained only in her memories and it is impossible to return it. Brushing a strand of hair that had fallen over her face behind her ear, she briefly looked up at the gloomy sky. She didn't want to go into the school, despite the fact that two of her friends were there. She needs to collect her thoughts, but how long it will take is unknown. Pursing her lips, Hermione kicked the pebbles that got in her way, continuing her leisurely way, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. There can be no optimism after the time she has been through. As much as she would like to forget about it, these memories kept recurring in her head over and over again, causing her unbearable pain. Pausing, she listened for a moment to the footsteps slowly approaching in her direction. Who could it be if almost everyone was in the school building? Only if Harry. Without turning around, the girl coldly said: — If it's you, Harry, don't worry about me, I want to be alone. In response to her words, there was a light laugh, from which she involuntarily shuddered. She seemed to know that faint voice. There was a short silence, which was broken by the roar of the wind, but after a couple of minutes a calm voice followed, radiating an ironically cold tone, addressed to her: — Do you still think that our great hero Harry Potter will be with you all your life, Granger? — Malfoy! — Instantly remembering who that voice belonged to, she immediately exclaimed. Turning sharply, Hermione confidently, without a shadow of fear, met the gaze of gray eyes looking at her with some curiosity rather than contempt. Well, yes, many people change after the war, but can this be attributed to Draco? So far, it's hard to believe. — Are you here to finish me off completely? Why didn't you leave like the other death eaters did? — Shut up, Granger, what do you understand about this? — Holding back his anger, bursting out, he gritted his teeth with displeasure. In all likelihood, this topic hurt him a lot, but he tried not to show his weaknesses, especially in her presence. — Believe me, I understand, — Hermione said calmly, crossing her arms over her chest. – But you didn't answer: Why didn't you leave? — You'd like me to leave, wouldn't you, Granger? — with a sarcastic smile, he asked, not taking his sly gaze off the girl, as if it did not bode well. — Malfoy...— She gasped, shifting from one foot to the other, – The war is over, and we are... The girl hesitated briefly in her own words, thinking for a moment before squeezing out: —... we were enemies. All my life. And you were on the enemy's side in the war. Do you think I want you to leave? — As always, it's maddeningly logical, Granger. But I'm afraid I can't leave yet, — Draco said with a snide note, tidying up his disheveled blond hair. — Why is that? No one's keeping you here. — Oh, no. He fixed his attentive gaze on the eyes of the girl, who was waiting in amazement for him to continue. Her incredulous gaze seemed to burn a hole in him. There is nothing surprising in this, especially considering the fact with what contempt and arrogance he spoke about her throughout her studies at school. Taking a deep breath, he calmly added, — You. – I? — thinking that I misheard, the girl asked in amazement, glancing at him and the repeated answer was a slight nod. Anticipating all her subsequent questions, Draco continued as if nothing had happened: — As strange as these words may sound, but that's the way it is. The only person who is currently keeping me on the territory already... You are a ruined school. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here. And before your friends come looking for you, I'd like to tell you something. — Somehow...Suspicious, — the girl suggested in a whisper. So that Malfoy himself, who was scheming not so much for her as for Harry, just to show that he was better than the friends he had made, would say that he stayed here because of her? Is this flattery or a well-played role? What is he trying to achieve? Well, he can't say such sincere words without some kind of trick. Summoning all her willpower, she continued in a firmer tone, — What do you want to say? — What do I want to say? Can't you guess? — Draco asked with an ironic smile, watching with interest the girl's face flushed with anger, clenching her hands into fists, clearly intending to punch him in the face. It happened once. In the third year. So it can happen again. — How can I guess?! — unable to stand it, she raised her tone, – If you want to tell me something, then speak directly, not in riddles! For your information, I can't read other people's minds. — What a pity, — continuing in the same sarcastic tone, Draco briefly looked away in the direction of the dilapidated castle, from which a couple of people were coming out, talking to each other, whom everyone recognizes from afar, it's none other than Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, heading in the opposite direction from them, — Apparently you've been lost, Granger, — returning his gaze to the still furious Hermione, he continued. — I don't care, — Hermione snapped, calming down more or less, straightening her disheveled hairstyle with her hands, not taking her menacing gaze off the guy standing not far from her, — Say what you wanted and leave! — Oh, how rude, Granger, — Draco drawled with a sickly sweet smile, taking a short look at her face, —You should learn etiquette. You're being too cocky. — Thank you for the compliment, Malfoy, — unable to contain the sarcasm in her voice, the girl could not restrain a sly smile, continuing with the same intonation: — but I will probably refrain from your instructions. I don't want to be a hindrance to a person like you. There was a long silence between them and the wizards standing opposite each other radiated each other with questioning glances. Hermione was nervously biting her lips, simultaneously brushing dirt off her soiled blouse, and her gaze kept darting from side to side. Draco just took a deep breath and briefly looked away, plotting the next words and actions in his head, including. — Hermione...— suddenly he called her, it seemed for the first time, by name, after some time, from which the girl looked up at him in amazement, waiting for the continuation. She wasn't. This is his first and last chance. If he doesn't say it now, he'll never do it. Gathering his thoughts, he took a couple of unhurried steps towards her, but, being stunned, Hermione could not move from her place, as if her feet were rooted to the ground. — I'm sorry for humiliating you for so many years and trying to get rid of you in every way, just not to see you in the walls of the school. Initially, I would have dismissed it as simple envy. Just think: A Muggle-born sorceress is smarter than a pure-blooded wizard. Yes, it's a shame for any pure-blooded wizard. But the older we got, the more I realized that it wasn't envy at all, but something else... He paused briefly in his speech, looking into her surprised eyes. It feels like she has guessed what he wants to say. If so, why doesn't she voice her own thoughts or is she afraid that she might jump to conclusions? No, Hermione is not one of those who is afraid to make mistakes, since she rarely makes them, or rather, never. She is an intelligent and gifted sorceress, which cannot but be admired. No wonder she was the favorite of almost all teachers at school. Who knew that standing in front of this girl, all the confidence that Malfoy had instantly evaporated, leaving only defenselessness? Afraid of a girl? Well, no, he wouldn't stoop to that. Without thinking twice, he took her wrist, gently squeezing it in his hand, which made it feel as if he was holding not a woman's hand in his hand, but a glass vase that could shatter from an awkward movement. If he wanted to, he would never let her go to anyone, but even in such a world there are rules that should not be broken. Overcoming his inner fear, he continued, trying to give his voice firmness and confidence, but each time he succeeded less and less: – I love you, Hermione. As it turns out, all this time I loved only you and the reason for my hatred was...jealous. he shifted his gaze to the side, rather than see her piercing gaze, which, in all likelihood, read anger. Well, he deserved it. — You've always looked at Weasley, not as a friend, I noticed that a long time ago. You deserve better, Granger, but it's not for me to judge, it's for you. I wish I could fix something so that you would look at me not as an enemy, but at least as a friend. That would be more than enough for me... but... — He sighed, and before lowering her slender hand, he gently touched his lips to the back of her hand, making his way to the knuckles of her long fingers. It seemed that the girl flinched from his actions, not knowing how to behave. Finally lowering her hand, he took a step back, nervously twisting his fingers, forcing himself to calm down and look into her eyes, no matter how much he wanted to look away from her. Just imagine: A native of an aristocratic family of wizards fell in love with a Muggle-born sorceress who did not stand next to him. I fell in love and lost my head. Yes, his parents would have sunk through the ground if they had found out the name of his beloved. The silence lasted as long as it could have. No one wanted to break it, as everyone was thinking about something different, rethinking the words they said. Draco was the first to break this silence and interrupted him in a low voice: – I understand you. Don't bother with words. I know your answer. You've made your choice towards the Weasleys and I'm not going to change your mind, because... — he bit his lip. A lump immediately got stuck in my throat, which did not allow me to breathe evenly. He knew, he knew that saying these words to a girl who had fallen in love with another person during this time would hurt twice as much, but he still came to tell her this. How stupid this confession looks, especially knowing that she loves someone else. Holding back the tears that were trying to burst out, he added almost in a whisper: —...I'm nothing to you. Only the one you hated. Hermione looked at the guy with a surprised look of bright eyes, staring straight into gray eyes, whether hiding from her direct contact. From his confession, amid the piles of rubble and the deathly silence, the girl's cheeks involuntarily flushed scarlet. She expected anything, but she definitely did not expect a declaration of love. Is this a dream or reality? Was Draco Malfoy himself, who had treated her with disdain from the very beginning of their acquaintance, secretly in love with her, but hiding these feelings behind disgusting behavior? — Malfoy... Hermione called him softly, bringing him into the real world, — What you said... — she did not have time to finish the sentence, as she was interrupted by cold, hopeless words: — Don't worry, Hermione, I won't get into your life, I promise. I just want you to be happy. Your happiness is worth a lot to me. He smiled faintly at her and waved goodbye to her, headed in the other direction, gradually disappearing from her line of sight, and the light wind again tousled his snow-white hair. Pressing her palms to her chest, the girl watched his disappearing figure for a while, thinking about their conversation. After a few minutes of thought, she took off, intending to catch up with him, ask him to stay, and not go anywhere, but she was stopped by Harry's hand, firmly grasping her wrist. Hermione looked at her friend with slight displeasure. — What? — You don't have a face on, Hermione. I saw you talking to Malfoy. Did he drive you that far? — No, — Hermione replied in a low voice, shaking her head. — What happened then? — I just realized that I made the wrong choice.