"Draco, we have to slow down!"
"Darling, we're in public, you must refer to me as 'Malfoy'."
You wrenched your hand out of his, growling. "You are infuriating."
"And you are going to reveal the nature of our relationship," said Draco, looking over his shoulder with that maddening smirk.
Fresh from a tryst in the Room of Requirement, you were young, careless and guilty. "Slughorn's going to be suspicious," you gasped, trying to keep up with Draco's long strides. "We're going to be late, our faces are red and your hair is sticking up everywhere."
"I can fix that," he replied. "But don't bother with your hair, it normally looks like that." His bark of laughter drowned out your snarl, as you started going down the dizzying staircase to the dungeon.
"Wait," Draco said, suddenly stopping and turning, his eyes hard. "We need to appear separately. You go first." He knew he hurt your feelings, but he needed to keep up public appearances. He couldn't risk whatever was left of his tattered reputation.
"Fine." you said harshly, avoiding his eyes. Then you stalked past him, and you were suddenly Hermione Jean Granger, war heroine again, and Draco Malfoy's lover was left behind.