Otter and Ferret ✓

Our Dirty Little Secret

Hermione noticed a general feeling of secrets and rumours spread throughout Hogwarts the next day.

Some were simply ridiculous, but others so close to the truth she grew hot and uncomfortable at the thought of his name. And, she thought of his name a lot.

Once or twice, she found herself trying to believe that she'd imagined the kiss, imagined feeling something she'd never felt before.

Something inside her stomach and chest that swelled and pulsed and made her feel tingly and like a bar of chocolate melting in a microwave.

She knew that, he would probably forget about it .. Or try to, at least. He would've moved on in two days with another girl, and would leave warm breath marks on her neck, leave a spearmint aroma that engulfed her senses, and not Hermione's.

At one occasion, just before lunch, Hermione found herself accidentally catch eyes with the grey ones across the corridor as wind hurled her hair into curlier curls.

As soon as he caught her eyes, he seemed to do something that resembled a smirk, that made her insides tremble and butterflies swarm.

Ginny, Harry, Ron and all the people Hermione was closest to refused to believe the rumours. Ron snorted rather violently when a third year walked past them at lunch, whispering hurriedly to her friend, while looking at Hermione.

Harry rolled his eyes and raised his eyebrows in refusal and disbelief. Ginny simply didn't do anything, but frowned.

As dinner time whirled around, Hermione stalked across the grounds on her own hurriedly, for a snow blizzard was starting to come down, and her stomach was emitting embarrassing pleads for food.

"Granger Danger," she knew who that was, but refused to turn around; refused to admit and give in to what she had let herself get lost in last night. "Hey," his voice was softer now, less of the vain and arrogant one she knew so well.

Even in the semi-darkness, his hair was aglow with the unique platinum blonde, his eyes searching her face.

"Hi," finally Hermione turned around, listening to the wind and the rustle of trees and distant chatter, refusing to look at his pointed face, his soft and chapped lips.

"You've got snow in your -"

"Hair. I know," Hermione quickly raised a hand to brush it out, but Draco was there first, inches away from her face, breathing down that spearmint scent that never failed to leave him. He ran a long-fingered and very gentle hand through her ringlets.

"People are clueless," Draco spoke, pulling back so her legs could solidify again. "You've heard the rumours, right?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry for getting you into this."

"Why are you being nice?" Hermione ignored the chattering protest of her teeth, and looked Draco straight in the face.

Draco took a while to answer, looking at his feet. "To tell you the truth, Granger, I don't have a clue."

"Stop being so weird!" Hermione was uncontrollably shaking now. "Stop it."

"You're cold," Draco ignored her, and instead unfastened his Slytherin cloak to wrap around her shoulders.

"I can't wear a Slytherin one ..."

"Says who?"

"The rumours ..."

"Try not to care so much, would you, Granger?" Draco rolled his eyes, finally smirking, leaving her a great sense of relief.

"Can I just ... Clarify something?"

"Sure."

"The kiss - our kiss. What did it mean?"

Draco's eyes flashed for a second, he began to shiver from the cold, and he looked down at her, blinking so a snowflake caught on his eyelash.

Then he grabbed her hand, pulling her into his chest, resting his chin on her head, and she wondered how she had felt so cold because now she felt like she was being fried ... And like her heart was going to break from its cage.

"It meant this," Draco whispered, leaving tingly trails from where his breath met her head.

They stayed like that for what seemed forever; silhouettes interlocked, arms numbly wrapped around one another's body, eyes closed.

When Hermione was almost completely sure she would melt, Draco pulled away, only to brush her lips with a finger, leaving cold marks on them. She then, as if last night was on repeat, closed her eyes and waited for his chapped and warm and soft lips to claim hers, and when they did, she forgot about the rumours.

She forgot about everything.

"How about," Draco smirked down at her, his voice rougher than usual. "This can be our dirty little secret?"

"Sounds good," Hermione claimed his hand again, and they walked up to the castle together in the moonlight.