Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter because that honor is JK Rowling's alone. (And I guess Ginny Potter, too. Ha.)

A/N: Very, Very short. I didn't mean for it to be a DracoXHermione, but I think it worked out okay.

"We shouldn't be doing this."

"I know."

"If we get caught..."

"We won't."

"What if our friends find out?"

"They won't." He grasped her hand tightly. Hermione sighed and wished she could be as confident as he was. "Now, are you going to kiss me or are you going to stand there worrying all night?" His words cut through her thoughts easily. He was such a distraction (one of many, many reasons this was so completely wrong). But when she kissed him, which she did promptly, none of it mattered.

The kiss itself was hurried, feverish. Exactly what you would expect from a boy like Draco Malfoy. She didn't love him, and she knew he didn't love her, which she supposed was for the best. What they had was a secret fling of no consequence. That's what he always said anyway. She agreed.

He was her secret rebellion, she his corruption project. They were both aware of this. It worked for them, and when the parted ways that night, they knew it would stay this way.