The Moment I Knew

Chapter 3

Remember when we couldn't take the heat

I walked out, I said, I'm setting you free

But the monsters turned out to be just trees

When the sun came up you were looking at me

- - - - - - Out of the woods - Taylor Swift - - - - - -

Days turned into weeks turned into months and before Hermione had the chance to take a breath, Christmas was upon Hogwarts.

She hadn't expected her and Draco to get away with sneaking around for so long, hadn't expected to still be an outcast in her own house and certainly hadn't expected to be facing the prospect of spending Christmas alone, or back in the muggle world. There had been a very noticeable silence from Mrs Weasley since she'd hexed Ron that suggested she was no longer welcome at the Burrow.

So much had changed in such a short time but she had adjusted, accepting her new normal graciously, despite how difficult it felt at times. Draco hadn't needed to adapt quite as much as she had, given that his house and friends hadn't turned their backs on him but he was supportive, recognising the difficulties of the position she was now in. Although he remained cold towards her in public he was as cautious as possible, trying as hard as he could (without raising suspicion) to avoid making her life any more difficult. If he ever called her name, needing to keep up appearances, he apologised profusely and tenderly at the nearest opportunity. No matter how many times she said that it wasn't necessary. He would hold her close, whisper sweet nothings against her skin and fuck her so gently she almost considered it lovemaking.

Almost.

Neither of them had built up the courage to discuss the gravity of what had developed between them and, having learnt from the mistakes she made with Ron, Hermione was not going to let her heart run wild. She would not let herself be so disappointed by a boy again. Her mum had taught her better than that. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like they were likely to be discussing the emotional consequences of their secret affair anytime soon. As the days passed by it was becoming harder and harder for them to find the time to meet. They were, like every student in their year group, kept busy by a vast number of assignments, all with deadlines that felt unfairly close. However, alongside the school work that was drowning them, the time they had for one another was also limited significantly by Dracos duties to his family and, by extension, to the Dark Lord. Whatever he was working on should have been a bone of contention between them but Hermione did her very best to keep her nose out of that part of Dracos life. If she became privy to any details of his project in excess of the fact he had a job to do then it would only put them both in danger. Alongside this, although she would never admit it out loud, she wanted to keep her naivety as to the extent of his position amongst the Death Eaters for as long as possible. If they didn't talk about it she could pretend that he wasn't the sworn enemy, wasn't bound to someone who thought people of her lineage were undeserving of the magic that ran through their veins. If they didn't talk about it she could pretend that their relationship wasn't some strange taboo, a forbidden affair. Maintaining her blissful ignorance helped her to ignore the significance of the tattoo etched into the pale skin of his forearm.

"Granger." Hermione jumped in her chair, nearly causing the pile of library books balanced on the desk beside her to topple over. She narrowed her eyes as the owner of the voice snorted, looking up at Draco with a slight pout on her face.

"Malfoy." She replied, keeping her tone as neutral as possible. The library was essentially empty but they still had to be careful. They could never really be too careful. He gave her a quick half-smile, reaching to grab a book from the shelf above her head, dropping a small piece of parchment into her lap as he did so. Once he'd retrieved the book he was after, he looked around the room before deeming it safe for him to push a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. She couldn't help but blush at the tenderness of his action, holding the parchment he'd dropped tight in her fist.