His arm brushed against hers in the hallway, and sparks flew. He whipped around, claiming in fright, but truly in shock at the electricity. When he saw who it was he grimaced. His mouth said "Mudblood" but his eyes showed her love.
His voice was hard and sly and rough when he spoke to her, but his gaze was soft and tender and genuine. She snapped back at him, keeping up appearances, but always avoiding his eyes. She feared that if their eyes were to meet, the world would explode in fireworks around them, and then their secret would be no more. She dreaded the day people found out about them, while he feared the same. She dreaded the loss she might feel and the support she might lose if those beside found out her true feelings. He feared her death should his come to light.
In the corridors, he made a snide remark. His eyes told her he would apologise for it later. She told her friends not to fight back - "He isn't worth it" - and turned her back on him. For all the world, they seemed like strangers. Enemies, at best. But they knew the truth.
In lessons they glared and laughed and smirked, both electrified from the confrontation before. After dinner, they were parted. Gryffindor and Slytherin do not mix. She passed through the portrait and sat in front of the fire, her eyes lost in the flames that became pictures of him. He entered his dungeon and laid on the sofa, oblivious to all. Simpering girls surrounded him; he couldn't bring himself to pretend to be enthused. Gryffindors were raucous around her, as she curled up in her chair. She tried to lose herself in a book, but for once the words couldn't pull her in. She went to her dorm - "I have a headache, sorry." - and sat on her bed. She took off her cloak and out fell a note. She gasped and smiled all at once, hoping it to be from him.
Her wish was satisfied when she picked up the note. The writing was his, she knew it. She tore the envelope open and read the note within:
"Meet me at the place with no names at the time with no hour.
Yours always,
-D"
She smiled, immediately understanding. They could have both been Ravenclaws truly.
At midnight, he left his room and entered the Room of Requirement, certain she would be waiting for him. He was not to be disappointed; she arrived in a tidal wave of rose petal perfume. He stood up a little straighter as she shyly walked towards him. As she neared him he opened his arms, welcoming her into him. When she was pressed against him, wrapped in his arms, she felt safe. She felt secure. She felt complete. She raised her head and finally their eyes connected. He was captured by the beauty of her eyes as he was captivated by his. He moved his head down until their lips met.
Fireworks.
She saw him in the hallway the next day. His arm brushed hers, and a jolt of electricity ran through her.
"Careful Granger." he drawled.
"Get lost, Malfoy." she retorted.
Nobody saw him slip another note into her cloak. Nobody saw a thing. To anyone else, things looked as normal as ever. They looked like enemies, at best.