h.p.

"what do you love about hermione?" i phoned ron and put him on speaker so malfoy, who was reading in the living room could hear. "and for the love of god, you don't need to shout,"

ron, who is always waiting for an opportunity to talk about his girlfriend started imediately. "well... she has really nice cursive handwriting- she makes shopping lists look poetic even though i can't read it. she wakes up early in the morning and kisses my forehead when she thinks i'm still asleep. she loves me when i'm filthy or stinky or angry or being stupid. she doesn't realize that when she reads, her face can tell you if the part of the book she's reading is intense or sad or happy. when i ask her a simple question, she could go on for hours. it's annoying and adorable and i love her for it. when she's in a really good mood, she giggles and kisses me on the cheek. i used to hate it when girls giggled, but she's just different-" he snapped out of his trance and paused. "wait, why'd you ask?"

i looked at draco malfoy, who was obviously listening. "just for research purposes."

"what research?"

"a study on love and how people experience it," i said, smiling at malfoy who rolled his eyes. "i'm proving love exists,"

"i still don't buy it," malfoy mouths at me.

"well, uh, is that all you needed? because i gotta go,"

"yeah that's it, really, thanks,"

"um, okay, weirdo, bye,"

i hung up and turned to malfoy. "even a hot mess like ron experiences love."

"well no one could love me," malfoy says shortly, going back to his book.

i frowned. well i could, i wanted to retort but that could easily be taken the wrong way.

"we accept the love we think we deserve," i say. "it's from a book i read once,"

"you read? that's surprising,"

ignoring him, i continued. "there's people who care about you. you just won't let them,"

he didn't say anything, as if he ignored me.

"i just don't want their pity. i'm a fuckin mess," he said finally.

"i am too and everyone who loves me knows, but i appreciate them caring for me and i love them back."

"...it must be nice," he said quietly. he went back to his book.

my words made an impact and at least that's something. i'm still so sad for him, but there was only one thing left to say.

"well i care about you. so that's someone else,"

"..."

"..."

"thanks. i... care about you too,"

i started to smile. that was enough.