This one is a short one, setting up for something that will happen soon, so hopefully you enjoy this little nugget of a glimpse into Hermione and Draco's thought processes.

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Chapter 21

That night, Hermione managed to sit through dinner and pretend that nothing was different. She did the same in the Common Room for as long as she could until she simply couldn't any longer, excusing herself from the room to head to bed early. She pulled the curtains closed around her four-poster bed and lay there, replaying the afternoon over and over again in her head. She felt transcendently happy, like nothing could go wrong. After weeks of suppressed feelings and sexual tension, the freedom she now felt to be what she wanted when she was with Draco was indescribable. The memories of the afternoon spent in his arms played in her head on repeat, and she fell asleep that night with a content smile upon her face.

She woke the next morning, going through the day floating on air much to Harry's confusion. She wasn't able to meet with Draco as the Slytherin team had booked the Quidditch pitch for nearly the entire day. Instead, she and Harry spent the day together in the library with Harry working on his assignments ("Honestly Harry! Why must you always leave it to the very last day?") and Hermione skimming through countless ponderous tomes for any mention of Horcruxes. She found her attention slipping quite frequently, however, staring off into space and engrossed in thoughts of the day before.

That Monday, however, she had been brought back to reality with an unwelcome jolt. For the entirety of breakfast, Harry had gone on nonstop about how he was certain that Draco was a Death Eater and that the other wizard was up to no good. She'd had to bite her tongue to stop herself from interjecting with more than the occasional, noncommittal grunt.

She constantly found her eyes straying to Draco during classes and mealtimes in the Great Hall, mentally scolding herself more times that she should have needed to, knowing that watching him so closely was not wise. She was unable, thought, to keep herself from looking at him when she knew no one else was paying attention.

She could feel the secrecy, the duplicity of their relationship, gnawing away at any residual happiness from their Saturday together. She knew, logically, what they had been getting themselves into; having to actually live with the consequences was another thing entirely. Having to ignore him, to pretend that he wasn't there, when all she wanted was to launch herself into his arms was even more draining than she could have imagined for a person that was used to wearing her heart on her sleeve in most things. She found herself wondering frequently how Draco was handling the situation, thinking bitterly that he seemed to be doing a much better job of it than she was.

In fact, Draco was not handling the situation well at all. He had watched Hermione sitting with Potter and the Weasel at breakfast, then at lunch, and then again at dinner, and he had seethed. He had seen her sitting with the Dundering Duo in classes, pointedly avoiding eye contact with him. He knew perfectly well why she was doing it, knew that it was necessary, and he probably would have scolded her for her actions had she not done so. Yet, each time he saw her laughing with Potter, saw the other wizard reach out to touch her with an innocent brush of skin against skin, he saw red. And every time she walked by him without so much as a glance in his direction, he could feel his heart turning to bitter ash in his ribcage.

He had been certain that the worst part of loving her would be knowing that, should someone discover their secret, they could use her as a weapon or worse, torturing of even killing her because of their relationship. That was still true. He was also coming to discover, however, a close second; seeing her, being near her, yet unable to claim her publicly as his own. All he wanted was for the two of them to escape back into their private world in the Room of Requirement, a place where they could be together without worrying that it would somehow find its way back to the Dark Lord.

That evening they were unable to meet at all, much to his bitter disappointment. The last he saw of her that day was one final, longing-filled look aimed his way from under long, dusky lashes. Then he watched yet again as she rose from the Gryffindor table and left the Great Hall, Potter glued to her side. He found that, for yet another moment in his life, he was envious of Potter, and he loathed the feeling.

Song Inspiration: Uncover – Zara Larson

Hoping to be back very soon with the next chapter!

sbz