Draco Malfoy

Y/N knew it was wrong. Their encounters in the Forbidden Forest were quieter than a mouse's squeak, and their glances in the Great Hall were shorter than a second. He was the heir to a pureblood family, she was what his father would have called "unworthy of the dust beneath his cloak."

"You're shaking," Draco whispered, throwing his school robes over her shoulders in the chilly dungeon of the Room of Requirement. His usually prickly fingers now caressed her wrist weightlessly.

"I'm afraid," Y/n answered honestly, not taking her eyes off his ashen, tired-looking eyes. "I'm afraid that tomorrow, your Aunt Bellatrix will meet me at the Gryffindor door."

Draco grinned wryly, but there was no usual cruelty in his smile. There was only bitterness.

"Then it's not her we should be afraid of. It's the fact that I'll abandon you before she even gets her wand out."
He didn't refuse. But as the sun rose over Hogwarts, they parted ways, erasing their traces with spells. Their love grew not because of the circumstances, but in spite of them. Too dangerous to be true. Too real to be mere foolishness.

One night, under the stars, he kissed her as if there was a war tomorrow. And it was.