The Gloriana Set

Secret Torrid Affairs

When Hermione arrived at the Potions lab Thursday morning, she was pleased to three pigeons squawking in a cage beside the door. Slytherins truly were resourceful, although it seemed like Pansy had gone out of her way to procure the dirtiest, scruffiest birds possible. Hermione brought the cage into the lab and placed it on the wooden cabinet Draco had repaired. She'd work with them later in the day.

Draco was at the Slytherin table when she entered the Great Hall for breakfast and they did their usual routine: He'd give her a look and she'd give him a nod, this time with a small smile. Theo appeared absorbed in his textbook at the other end of the table, flanked by Goyle and a skinny Slytherin boy. Hermione was happy not to have Potions that day.

She left breakfast early, hoping for some quiet time to study for Friday's Transfiguration exam, and had nearly reached the Great Hall doors when two Squeaky Mice blocked her way.

"I'm busy, Percival," she said, resisting the temptation to pull her bag over her chest.

"Have you forgiven him, Miss Granger?" he said. "Mr. Malfoy, I mean. I have a bet going."

"Forgiven him for what?" Hermione asked.

"For being himself," said the red-haired girl, Imogene.

Hermione smiled. "I don't know. That's a lot to forgive."

"He's very handsome," Imogene said. Percival scoffed. "You're just jealous," she told him. They began arguing, and Hermione took the opportunity to slip away.

She was leaning against the wall outside Ancient Runes, reviewing the limitations of the Inanimatus Conjurus spell, when footsteps prompted her to look up. Draco was striding toward her briskly, his face unreadable, black robe flapping. He walked straight up to her, and for a mad instant she thought he was going to shake her hand, he looked that businesslike, but instead he placed a hand on the wall beside her head and brushed her lips with his.

Hermione couldn't help responding to that light, now familiar touch. It was stupid to do this here, in the hallway where they'd argued so many times before, where McGonagall and her flock could turn up any minute. She needed to stop this and she would, in just a minute ...

It was Draco who pulled back; he looked down at her, one hand still on the wall. "Good morning," he said quietly. "Sleep well?"

"Very well," she said, trying not to blush. "Thank you for the snitch. I'm using it in my Arithmancy presentation today."

"Of course you'd find some swotty purpose for it." He looked around the empty corridor, then fixed her with those eyes again. "Meet me tonight. In the old Charms classroom."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "It depends. Are you bringing the Codex Runica?"

"Are you bringing your LOON plan?"

"It's LOOP, and certainly not," she said. "Some people manage to start up secret torrid affairs without a blueprint."

Draco brushed a thumb over Hermione's lower lip and her breath hitched. "You think I need any help?" he whispered in her ear. His thumb left her mouth and traced lightly down her throat. He was barely touching her, and her heart was pounding.

"A secret torrid affair," he repeated thoughtfully. "Certainly an affair. Hopefully not secret for long." His thumb was tracing her cheekbone now. "How torrid it becomes is entirely up to you."

The echo of feet further down the corridor warned them of McGonagall's arrival, and the Slytherin stepped smoothly aside. Hermione felt heated and disheveled, but Draco was all cool perfection, standing a proper distance away with a superior look. So this was how it was going to be. She could weep for her own stupidity.