Draco Malfoy was fucking pissed. He was strung out because he never got to spend time with Hermione and he hadn't gotten laid in days as Weasel and Scarhead had been clinging to his princess like flies. He was fucking sick of it. He knew it was for the best, no one would like their relationship but he couldn't stand it anymore. He couldn't keep his eyes off her all through Arithmancy and she kept catching his eye and pouting, bloody rubbing salt into the wound. Goddammit. He needed to kiss her, touch her, fuck her.
And there she was walking a metre or so ahead of him. Her hips swaying, wild hair swishing. He wanted to grab her, pin her up against the wall and snog her senseless. Fuck all the people watching he needed her. Now.
Hermione Granger was sick of this stupid charade, Golden Girl this, Precious Hero that, blah blah blah, all day. It was her life, why couldn't they just butt out? Ugh, Harry and Ron were being extra annoying lately, all Quidditch and school and Help us, Mione. God, sometimes she wanted to tell them where they could shove their essays. Ginny didn't help either, she was all concerned about the fact Hermione didn't have a nice boyfriend. Well, frankly, Hermione wouldn't even try to mention Draco to her, but Ginny insisted on setting her up with every red, blue or yellow-clad Hogwarts male over seventeen…
She heard his intake of breath behind her, she knew him by now. All the little sounds and actions, she just wanted to be able to kiss him without the whole world throwing her in St. Mungo's. Was it such a big question to ask?
He glared at Potter and Weasel, eyed them up, sick of their overprotective crap. She caught his eye again, a sad look in her eyes. But this time he snapped, this time he couldn't take it.
"Fuck it," he growled.
He strode across the corridor and pulled her against him, pushing her into the wall. She wound her arms around him, fingers threaded into his hair, bringing his head down to hers.
"Fuck them," she whispered.
Pressing her lips to his, it was a relief, a freedom, needed. The protests of the other students drowned out by the desperate hands clinging to one another, the lips fighting. He pinned her against the wall with his hips, their bodies flush as she murmured across his lips,
"Secret's out," brushing her lips across his, panting softly,
"Oops," he replied, nibbling her lip gently.