*Short one shot* 'It's the stolen kisses that always taste the sweetest.'
That was how they described their relationship. Secret smiles across the Great Hall when they were sure no one was watching, gentle brushes of the hands as they pass each other in the corridor, stolen kisses in darkened hallways and empty classrooms when Draco should have been on Prefect patrol; that was all they allowed themselves.
Then, with whispers of ‘I love you’ they would part and return to being opposites. The ‘Boy Who Lived’ and ‘Ferret’ masks would slide across their faces and they would scream unimaginably horrible things at each other in an attempt to make the world think they hated each other.
And oh how they hated. Hated the way the other made them feel, hated how they could not be more open about their relationship. They played their parts so well even their closest friends believed them.
That was how they loved, caught in a vicious circle, surrounded by people who would vilify them for being themselves.
After all, how could a Gryffindor and Slytherin ever be together?
But as Harry would always say ‘It’s the stolen kisses that always taste the sweetest.’ and for the moment, Draco is content to believe him.