AN: Characters don't belong to me.
We get away with it precisely because it's so unlikely. Being who we are, there was never any doubt that we'd be enemies. But expectations don't always come true, as I found out during my time at Hogwarts.
I can't walk down the corridor by the dungeons without being pulled into a dark alcove, usually the one covered with the tapestry. Behind it, waiting for me, is Draco Malfoy, the boy I'm supposed to despise, but I can't help the attraction I feel for him. Mutual attraction, I might add, before anyone accuses him of using me. We use each other, if you want the truth. Not that anyone would believe us, if we were discovered. This walk down the corridor is no different to any of the other times. I slow down as I reach the tapestry, and slip behind it as his hand grasps my wrist. At least he waited until after potions – Snape always gives detention to late Gryffindors.
It's lunchtime, so I don't have to rush off anywhere. That means we can take our time, which is a luxury we can't usually have. Although if that's the only way I can be with him, you won't find me complaining.
The gentle caresses are normal fir us, when we're alone like this. It's a side of Draco that no-one ever sees in public. And after I was over my childish crush on Harry Potter, no-one ever saw me looking at anybody with such undisguised adoration. I fell head over heels for the one guy I'm not allowed to have, so we sneak around, have sex in places where we might get caught, because we can't do it in a bedroom like normal people do. I don't care if we do get caught, if I'm honest. I hate lying about our relationship. Yes, it is a relationship, dysfunctional though it may seem at times.
He runs his hands through my hair, tousling it. He always said he likes it that way – wild and unrestrained (like my temper can be).
We fight like cats and dogs in public, and always have. Though the insults are no longer related to the war – we've put all of that behind us. It's stupid things now – he calls me the little Weasel, I call him Ferret. Harmless enough, and it doesn't really affect us any more, but we're expected to argue, so we do. Wouldn't want to disappoint our audience, would we?
He fastens something around my neck – that's not normal, and I raise one hand to my throat. Underneath my fingers is a narrow chain, and a teardrop diamond. I'm not sure any Weasley has ever owned jewellery like this. I look up at him, confused.
"Did you think I'd forgotten your birthday?"
"I don't remember telling you about it."
"That's because you didn't. I have my ways of getting information."
And he does. I'd love to know how, but that's his secret. Before we leave our hiding place, I carefully tuck the necklace out of sight. Much as I want to show it off, it wouldn't be a good idea at the moment – everybody is suspicious of everyone else. No need to fuel the fire, after all.
Leaving has to be carefully orchestrated because we can't be seen together. He walks out first, while I wait there for another five minutes. I've just got time to eat before Transfiguration starts.
We make an unlikely couple. But when the war is over, I'm going to make sure everyone knows about us. I don't want to hide in the shadows any longer.
AN: Is it too much to expect for people to leave a review saying whether you liked it or not? Even if that's all you write, that's fine. Just let me know by leaving a review.