DISCLAIMER: The world of Harry Potter and all related names, titles, ideas, etc. are the property of JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I make no profit off of this.

The quote "Shame is a product of education" comes from the musical Spring Awakening,

The light that woke me the next morning had a peculiar greenish tinge to it. That was my first hint that something was a little bit off. Ordinarily, the light in the morning was tinted oh-so-slightly baby blue by the curtains that it filtered through. The next hint I received was my bare legs. Ordinarily, I slept in sweats. But it seemed that this morning I was clad only in a long green satin button up. It also seemed that my bare legs were tangled up in something. The third hint came in the form of what was under my cheek. It wasn't my own satin sheets, or smooth cotton pillowcase. It was smooth, slightly moist and sticky. It was someone else's skin. My final hint came when I opened my eyes to see a blonde haired, pale Slytherin in bed next to me. Ordinarily, I woke up alone. It took me a second to process why I was in the Slytherin boy's dorms, and why I was not alone in them. When I finally comprehended my situation, I was more than a little upset.

"Draco" I hissed, shoving him. He groaned and turned over, burying his face in his arms.

"Malfoy," I practically snarled. He lifted himself slowly with his arms and tilted his chin up, his eyes still closed. They slowly flickered open and a groggy "Wha-" came out of his mouth. I stared at him in utter disbelief as he stretched out the morning tightness and ran his hands over his tousled hair.

Then, his silver eyes flickered open again and settled on me. First, a smile softened his face, then an annoyed sigh came from him and he flopped back onto the mattress.

"We need to talk, don't we?" He sat up again, rubbing his hand over his hair, which was sticking up in a way reminiscent of a certain black-haired, Chosen One, Boy Who Lived, mortal enemy of Draco.

"I should say so," I shrilly answered back, sitting up and facing him.

"Fine, you start," He cockily crossed his arms over his chest.

"I was under a lot of emotional stress. I needed someone."

"That's not true. If you just needed someone, you would have gone to Boot or Weaselette."

"Would it kill you to call them Terry and Ginny?" He ignored this.

"The point is, you needed me. Boot was there, just like he always is. Weaselette- no, I will not call her Ginny and I will not call Weasel king Ron so give it up- was there as well, just like she always is but you came to me. I didn't ask you to and I didn't ask you to kiss me, or strip, or any of that. It was you, River, take some responsibility for once. You don't get to shrug this off into you "mistakes I made while upset" pile and wash your hands of it. That is what it means to be a grown up, to make your own decisions and claim them as your own. So, admit it, you needed me.'

"I admit it! I needed you, not Terry, not Ginny."

"And you didn't want to stop."

"I didn't. But I also didn't come here for that."

"I know you didn't"

"You know what else I'll admit? And I don't care if it makes me feel like a whore. It's the truth. I, River Trife, stripped for Draco Malfoy. I, River Trife, spread my legs for Draco Malfoy. And I, River Trife, enjoyed it."

"I did too. So why can't we just date, River?"

"I didn't say I wanted to date you. I said I liked shagging you."

"So, we're, what, friend's with benefits?" He sneered at that idea, skeptically raising an eyebrow.

"You're going to try to tell me that Draco Malfoy is morally opposed to friends with benefits?" I matched his skeptic sneer exactly.

"No, but I thought you would be."

"I guess I am," I surrendered.

"So, where does that leave us?"

"I did what I swore I wouldn't do."

'What's that?"

"Fall for you, head over heels. I can't believe it."

"We could work, River. Just give it a shot."

"Yeah, we'd work as the most dysfunctional couple to ever grace the halls of Hogwarts." I scoffed.

"Aye and we'd give Weaselette and Corner, not to mention Chang and Corner, a run for their money for best looking couple."

"We'd fight like crazy."

"We already fight like crazy. Might as well do it as girlfriend and boyfriend." He flipped his wrist, as though waving off my feeble excuse.

"I won't want people to know."

"Okay."

"Terry will hate you, maybe me too."

"Boot's too crazy about you to hate you. And he already hates me."

"What if it gets to your lot?"

"Let me handle that."

"There's too much in the way."

"You're putting too much in the way."

"Just stop it, Draco, my head hurts."

"No. You don't get to just get out of this like a child with some trivial complaint. Give me one good reason why not."

"Because I don't want to want you. I'm ashamed of it."

"Shame is a product of education."

"Pretty words, Draco, but what does that have to do with anything?"

"If you hadn't been taught to hate me, you wouldn't be ashamed of wanting me."

"But-" he gave an exasperated sigh and cut off my next argument with his lips. I pushed against them subconsciously, hungering for more of him. He moved his hands to my face and I clutched his hair. A few moments later, I felt him smile into the kiss and I parted.

"You were saying?" He raised his neat blonde eyebrow.

"That I give up. I'm out of lame excuses."

"Fantastic!" He grinned and grabbed my hands. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

I sighed deeply, the surrender half killing me.

"Yes."

"Good," He smiled, wrapping his arms around me and burying his face in my hair.

"We have class, Draco." I reminded him, prodding his rib cage with one finger.

"Fuck," He drew away from me.

"How are we supposed to get you out of here without being seen? Can you do a disillusionment charm?"

"No, that's N.E.W.T. year level,"

"As if you've never worked ahead before,"

"Flitwick hasn't taught me that one yet. It's far too advanced."

"How about an invisibility cloak? Do you have one of those?"

"Yeah, totally, my muggle family just happened to have one sitting around." He fought off a smile at the blatant sarcasm in my tone.

"Father won't give me ours until I've graduated. He said it's far too valuable for kid's games."

"Give me those green robes and a green tie and sweater. It's the only way." He tossed me the clothing and I walked over to the mirror above his bedside table and started transfiguring my face. I shortened my nose and made it turn up, thickened and darkened my eyebrows and darkened my eyes, then turned to face him.

"Do I look sufficiently like Pansy Parkinson to not have any questions raised if I keep my head down?"

"As long as she's not in the common room."

"That's a risk I'll have to take," I said, quickly changing into a Slytherin uniform and shrinking my own blue and bronze trimmed clothing until it was small enough to carry in my pocket. I tied my hair into a loose bun so that it looked short like Pansy's if nobody looked too hard.

"This is insane." Draco muttered, fumbling as he tried to button his shirt with quick, frustrated movements.

"I'm not, and I repeat, not, having people talking about me like I'm some common slut because they saw me leaving the dormitories with you."

"Fine." He snapped. I glared silently at his back as he slipped the robes over his body. He turned around to face me, his eyes dark and stormy with his frustration.

"What, Draco? What's wrong? What did I do this time?" I yelled, finally breaking.

"You care far too much for what other people think! And I hate, I absolutely hate that you're ashamed of me."

"Of course I care what other people think, Draco! Imagine what it would be like for me if people found out, imagines the comments and snide remarks and criticisms and gossip I'd have to suffer."

"Do you know what it would be like for me? A thousand times worse, River!"

"Oh, sorry, I forgot that it's always about you!"

"No, it's always about you. Your reputation! Your shame! Your petty, childish concerns! If people find out about us, I will undoubtedly lose my parents. I will lose my fortune. I will lose my friends. I will lose the loyalty of my housemates and my position of honor amongst Slytherin. I will lose everything, and not just in school, in life too. You could rise from the ashes of your teenage years defeat. I couldn't."

I bowed my head and took a few deep breaths.

"I'm sorry, Draco. Sometimes I forget that people have problems that are bigger than mine."

"It's alright." He gently squeezed my arm and smiled at me to show that he meant it "We need to get out of here though or we're going to be late to Potions." He said, putting his arm around me and walking out of the dorms. I ducked my head as we stepped into the common room.

"Okay" Draco mumbled into my ear "It looks like most of Slytherin is at Breakfast…. There's a group of third years, and a few fifth years, but they're hardly paying attention. They see black hair and just assume it's Pansy. We're almost to the portrait hole… three more steps." I heard the door opening and we stepped through.

"Did anybody really look?"

"The fifth years, but they were up really late studying for O.W.L.S. so they looked a little glazed over."

"Lucky us," I sighed, tapping my wand against my face and restoring my normal features. I took my hair out and pulled the Ravenclaw uniform out of my pocket, then restored it to its normal size. I whipped the green trimmed robes off my shoulders and tossed them at Draco. He shrugged into them, then he took the tie I handed him and knotted it around his throat. Lastly, I tossed him his own v-neck Slytherin sweater and slipped into my uniform.

His eyes trailed over my figure and he smiled. I grinned cockily back and turned to saunter away, with a little more bounce to my step and sway to my hips than usual. I heard him chuckle, then his quick footsteps. He came up behind me and placed his hands at my hips.

"You're going to be the death of me, Trife." He whispered, his lips barely brushing my earlobe. I shivered. He laughed.

"What?" I demanded.

"Sensitive spot?" Again his lips brushed the skin of my earlobe, but this time he closed his mouth over it, gently nibbling and licking the soft skin. I rolled my head back into his chest and reached my arms up to encircle his neck behind me. His arms tightened around my waist and his mouth drifted down my neck until his forehead was resting on my shoulder. I turned my head and kissed his temple. He lifted his head and pushed gently against my hips. I moved away from him. He adjusted himself so that he was on my side and took my hand in his as we walked, to a hurried breakfast, then to class.

All the while, the small, dark, disapproving eyes of Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe never left us.