All They Want For Christmas...

Revealing

"We need to talk."

Hermione read the note several times, keeping herself from glancing at the boy who had sent it to her, the boy who now sat at the back of the charms classroom. Hermione worried about Draco; he had looked rather pale (well, more pale than usual) when he had walked up to her and discreetly pressed the note into her hand before class. Ever since that moment, Hermione found herself counting down the minutes until Charms was over. When the class finally ended, Hermione couldn't even remember what had been covered.

Lucky for she and Draco, Charms was their last class of the day. Hermione shoved her book, parchment, and quill into her bag the second that Flitwick dismissed them and practically dashed out of the door, knowing that Draco wouldn't be far behind. Their dorm was the only place they could talk privately. Her heart raced, fearing whatever it was Draco intended to tell her. She could easily tell that it was not good; she felt her heart stop at the thought that he might be ending things, but shook off the sickening feeling of dread that accompanied that thought. No. That wasn't it. Couldn't be it.

Hermione quickly stated the password to enter the head's common room and dropped her bag rather unceremoniously on the floor beside the couch that she settled herself on. The silence that followed was a welcomed sound, a sound that she and Draco had become unaccustomed to for the past week or so. After the night of the Dance, Pansy's portrait had become quite a problem. It screamed at Hermione every time she entered the room and flirted with Draco nonstop. And Merlin forbid they be in the common room at the same time. Even just studying for N.E.W.T.S. the painting never shut up. The only reason they'd been stuck with the monstrosity for so long was because Pansy had, at first, refused to take it back; that was when Draco had threatened to burn the offending portrait, and Pansy quickly demanded that it be returned to her.

At the current moment, Hermione lacked the patience required to wait on Draco; she fidgeted nervously as anxiety flooded her mind. When Draco finally walked through the swinging painting, Hermione would have leapt for joy, were it not for the distraught look on his face. He dropped his books on the floor and sat on the couch across from her for a few silent moments, looking at his hands. Hermione itched to question him, but somehow restrained herself. He finally looked up at her and said the words that they'd feared since Christmas Holiday.

"We've been found out."

His voice, normally music to her ears, resembled an orchestra of broken instruments played by toddlers as those words left his lips. "What?" she whispered in shock.

"Someone knows about us," he further elaborated.

"But... but who? How?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't know, but I received this," he pulled a folded note out of his trouser pocket and handed it to her, "today when the Owl Post arrived."

With shaking hands, Hermione reached out and took the note from him. The handwriting was nondescript, clearly done by magical means to make it anonymous. She read the fluid script.

"I know about you and your precious mudblood girlfriend. How sweet, the classic tale of star-crossed lovers. If you know what's good for you, you'll leave her before someone gets hurt. Everyone knows that Romeo and Juliet had no happy ending."

Hermione shuddered at the implications of the note. Someone knew they were dating, and someone intended to do something about it. She looked at Draco searchingly. "What are we supposed to do?"

Draco laughed bitterly. "Don't you see? We have to break up, Hermione." He shook his head slowly from side to side. "I should have seen this coming. I was a fool to think we could get away with this, especially since I don't even deserve you. The Slytherin Prince with the Gryffindor Princess." Another bitter laugh once more escaped his lips. "We were doomed from the start."