Taboo

Hermione lay on the bed staring out the small window at the starry sky. She wasn't sure if the window was real or just an illusion, but it gave her a sense of peace. She heard knocking on the walls and an indistinct voice calling out.

"Hermione?" said the voice. "Are you in there?"

Scrambling for her slippers, she raced to the door and yanked it open. There stood Malfoy in his bathrobe, a toothbrush in one hand.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered. "Isn't it past curfew already?"

"Five minutes," said Malfoy, checking his watch. "Can I come in?"

"Why aren't you in your dormitory?" asked Hermione, ushering him inside the dark room. "Ouch," she said, tripping over something on the floor. She pulled out her wand and muttered, "Lumos."

"I'm here for the same reason you are," he said, squinting against the bright light. "This room never fails to amaze me," he said, shaking his head in reverence.

"I'm going to brush my teeth," said Hermione. "There's a bathroom over here."

It felt oddly intimate brushing her teeth next to him in front of the sink. She rinsed and looked up at their reflection in the mirror: Malfoy, pale and several inches taller than her, his eyes ever-changing shades of gray and blue. Herself, slightly darker than him, her bushy brown hair in a loose ponytail.

"What are you looking at?"

"Us," she answered simply. "We're so different."

"Opposites attract," said Malfoy, turning out the light.

They climbed into bed and lay on their sides, propping up their chins.

"So..." said Hermione, breaking the awkward silence. "Did you talk to Pansy?"

"Yes." He sighed. "I told her everything. Or rather, she guessed and I verified." He paused for a second. "Okay, so I didn't tell her all the details. I left out the part about New Year's. That's none of her business." He relayed the rest of the conversation to Hermione. "...and then she slapped me. I wasn't expecting that."

"Well, are you seeing any other girls?"

"Not you too," groaned Malfoy. "My own girlfriend doesn't even trust me."

"All the evidence makes you look rather suspicious," she teased.

"I just want to know why the only two girls I've dated have also been the only girls that have hit me."

"When have I hit you?" She racked her memory. "Oh, right. Well, you deserved it."

"I guess so."

"Love hurts," she said, snickering. He smiled and looked at her, radiant in the soft glow of the moonlight.

"You are so beautiful," he said to her.

"And you're the only one who's ever said that to me," she said, turning pink with pleasure.

"I should take you to meet my parents," he mused.

"We've already met," she said sourly, remembering their past encounters.

"I want to introduce you properly."

"What will they say?"

"I think my mother might be more lenient. My father will probably be all 'You can do better than her, blah blah blah.'"

"Your father hates Muggleborns." She cringed as she said it.

"He's a power hungry fool, and he wants me to be just like him."

"Do you want to?" she asked quietly.

"No," he said truthfully. "I don't want to spend my life being someone's servant. I want to do something good and noble. I want to be an Auror someday. I know it sounds far-fetched, but if I make it out of this alive, that's what I want."

"Hmm," she murmured, nodding pensively.

"What? Do you think that's a stupid idea?"

"No, of course not. It's just...I know you don't want to hear this, but you reminded me a little of Harry when you said that. Just the thing about being an Auror." She chewed her lip nervously.

"I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult." He scowled slightly.

"Mad-Eye Moody once told me I should be an Auror," recalled Hermione. "Okay, so it was actually Mr. Crouch's son in disguise, but it's not every day someone tells me I should be an Auror, Death Eater or not."

"We should both be Aurors then," suggested Malfoy. "Just imagine it: us together, fighting evil..."

Hermione giggled. "You make us sound like superheroes. They're sort of like Muggle Aurors, I guess," explained Hermione, upon seeing Malfoy's puzzled look. "They're supposed to fly around in capes saving people from villains with their magic powers."

"Do they really exist?"

"In comic strips and on television."

"Come again?"

"You really should take Muggle studies," said Hermione, doubling up in laughter.

They fell silent for a while, staring at the ceiling while lying on their backs.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Malfoy a few minutes later.

"You," she replied. "And Ron."

"Don't think about him."

"That's impossible. How can I not think about him?"

"Like this," said Malfoy, rolling over so that he was propped up on his elbows on top of her. Their noses almost touched.

"It's not working, Draco."

He brushed his lips against hers. "Is it working now?"

"Uh-uh, nope," she said without moving her lips. He kissed her, gently biting down on her lower lip. She squirmed beneath him. "Wait."

"What's wrong?" He leaned away from her.

She sat up and pulled the nightgown over her head, tossing it unceremoniously onto the floor. He stared at her, speechless with astonishment.

"You don't remember this? We bought it in Hogsmeade."

"No, I remember," he said, sucking in a death breath. "It's just...I wasn't expecting that." He blushed in the darkness, glad that she couldn't see his face. He lifted a corner of his bathrobe and pointed to his boxer shorts. "Do these look familiar to you?" They were shocking pink with silver hearts.

"Very," she said, grinning. "But today is Valentine's Day. You're only allowed to wear pink or red. Your robe is green."

"What kind of silly rule is that?" he teased, throwing the robe towards the open wardrobe. It landed on the bottom shelf. "And he scores! Ten points to Slytherin!"

"You're supposed to play Seeker," she said pointedly.

"Well, then, one hundred and fifty points for me, since I've found you." He kissed her again. "You're my little golden Snitch, and you've evaded me for a very long time."

"Catch me if you can," said Hermione in a singsong voice. She hopped off the bed and darted to the door.

"You're not serious," he said incredulously, as she turned the doorknob. "We'll get put in detention. I don't care, but you'll ruin your perfect record."

"Bye bye," she said, opening the door and running into the dark corridor in her bare feet.

Shaking his head, he kicked off his slippers and launched himself after her.

"Hermione?" he whispered. "Where are you?"

"Over here," she called back. He heard the pattering of feet to his left and followed the sound. He saw her shadow in the dim lamplight and dashed in that direction.

"Where--are--we--going?" he panted, sprinting up another set of stairs.

"You'll see."

Ten minutes later, they arrived in the deserted Astronomy Tower. They sat down on the steps to catch their breath.

"That was fun," said Hermione, rubbing her frigid toes.

"Are you mental?" he said, his face partially obscured by the darkness. "First of all, we're out of bed after curfew. Second, we're only wearing our underwear, albeit very sexy underwear. And lastly, we're together, which might cause people to jump to unwanted conclusions."

"You're right," said Hermione, finally coming to her senses. "I don't know what came over me."

"We should go back," said Malfoy, standing up. "Right now."

"It'll be a miracle if Filch doesn't catch us."

"Well, I believe in miracles, so let's go."

Stealthily, they made their way back through the empty halls, suspicious of every tiny noise in the eerie darkness. They were nearly to the seventh floor when they heard a familiar voice.

"Sniff them out, my sweet," said Filch in his wheezy voice. "Their trail is still fresh."

"What now?" mouthed Hermione to Malfoy, freezing in her tracks. He motioned for her to stay quiet. They could hear Filch prowling closer. She suddenly thought of an escape route. She tapped Malfoy to get his attention and then mouthed "prefects' bathroom." He pointed in that direction to indicate that he understood. She nodded. "On the count of three..." She held up one finger.

"Two.."

"Three!" they shouted, and bolted from the spot just as Filch rounded the corner. They sped through the corridor, turned a corner and hurriedly whispered the password. As soon as the doors opened, they flung themselves inside and collapsed onto the marble floor. The doors shut soundlessly, and they could hear Filch's uneven footsteps. They pressed their ears against the door, listening intently.

"We'll get them next time, my pet," he crooned to Mrs. Norris. Eventually, the footsteps faded away.

They checked to make sure the halls were clear and crept back to the seventh floor.

"That was close," said Hermione, once they were back inside, and the door was shut securely.

"Too close."

"Do you think he saw us?" she asked worriedly.

"No. It was too dark," he said reassuringly. "Why did you do that?"

"I just felt kind of rebellious," she said sheepishly. "I'm already sort of a rebel for going out with you, and...I don't know, I guess I just sort of craved more." She sighed. "All my life I've always been the 'good girl,' the responsible one. I've never done anything really daring or out of the ordinary."

"Yes, you have. What about in our first year? That obstacle course thing. Or last year at the Ministry. If that's not brave, I don't know what is."

"But that's different. I was with Harry and Ron." She looked down at her hands. "Sometimes I just get tired of being perfect," she said, looking at him with an intense fervor. "And then all I want to do is hide from the world for a little while."

He put his arms around her, encircling her in his warmth. "I know exactly how you feel," he said, cradling her.

After a minute or two, she looked up at him, her eyes deep wells of sorrow.

"Hide me," she whispered.

Wordlessly, he caressed her, kissing her eyelids and breathing in the faint smell of grapefruit and cinnamon of her hair. And once again they were moving slowly in sync as the night waned.