He stood in the corner, flicking glances at his watch every few seconds, trying not to look anything less than suave and sophisticated. Inside, however, his emotions were in turmoil and he was frantic and nervous. His frazzled nerves were soothed when she slid into the booth, drawing the curtains behind her.

"Sorry," she said. "Harry and Ron were impossible to loose. They kept on insisting that I look at some stupid broom."

"The Nova?" he asked, fingers creeping across the table to twine with hers. "Yes, it's a nice broom. Father's buying me one for Christmas, I believe."

She wrinkled her nose. "And I suppose you'll lord it over them," she said. "You won't give me any peace, will you? I hate having to pretend to hate you when I know I don't."

"Shh, luv," he replied, stroking her palm with the pad of his thumb. "It'll be fine. Someday we'll be able to tell them. And then I'll try not to lord my life over them, even though it's so much better than theirs."

"Just because you've got money doesn't mean-" she started before he cut her off.

"That's not what I meant," he soothed. "I meant that it's better because I've got you. Honestly, don't jump to conclusions."

They laughed for a moment, before freezing at a pair of familiar voices.

"I could swear I saw her go in here, Harry," the voice of Ron Weasley said. "Seamus said he saw her in the back booth. That one, with the curtains drawn."

As the footsteps neared, Draco whispered, "It'll be all right. After all," an amused glint came into his eyes, "they had to find out sometime, right?" Hermione smiled back at him, but it was frail.

As the curtains whipped open, Draco strengthened his grip on her hand.

"Hermione?" said the shocked Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. "Malfoy?" They started at Hermione.

"What the bloody hell?" Ron asked, ears turning red.

"Ron, we were going to tell you," Hermione said, trying to be diplomatic. "I know you two and Draco don't get along-"

"Don't get along?" Ron fumed. "Don't get along? He insults me all the bloody time! You hear him, Hermione! And- And you hate him too!"

"How could you not tell us?" Harry asked, quiet with emotion.

"I'm sorry," Hermione pleaded. "I really am- For not telling you sooner, I mean. I love him. He's kind and sweet and worries about me when we go off and he loves me, too. I wish you two would at least try to get along with him!"

They blinked at her for a moment before walking away. Hermione stared after them before starting to cry, bent in half over the table.

Draco quickly moved over to her side and put his arm around her shoulder. "Shh, luv," he crooned. "It'll be okay. After all, you've still got me."