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That night Hermione got some of the best sleep of her life. She awoke with the sun, her eyelids fluttering from the soft morning light. The air was still. Her body was at the peak of comfort in the large, cozy bed. It took a moment for her to remember where she was. Then, the weight across her waist reminded her.

Draco Malfoy had his arm wrapped around her. In his bed.

Carefully, so as not to wake him, Hermione rolled over to look at her fake boyfriend.

Unsurprisingly, his expression was unreadable. She found herself staring at his lips, the same lips that made her feel all sorts of delicious sensations the night before.

But the longer she looked at him, the sadder she became.

He was perfect for her. He matched her wit and challenged her. He treated her well and made her laugh. Being with him had felt so natural, like breathing in and out.

But last night proved it to herself. Her feelings for him were growing and if she continued on this path, she would only be using him. She couldn’t do that to him. He had played his part well, but it needed to end.

The sudden urge to leave hit her like a force. She had to get out of there, before he woke up. Because if he woke up, then they would talk. She would want to cuddle more. And she knew she’d look into those eyes, and be in even bigger trouble than she was now.

She was careful to edge out from beneath his arm. She was careful to lift the covers, and careful to slip from the bed. She tiptoed across the room, gathered her dress and shoes from the night before, and stepped into his fireplace.

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Draco awoke to the sound of crackling but when he glanced at the fireplace, nothing was there. He then turned to look at the other side of his bed.

Empty.

He placed a hand where Hermione had lain.

Where she should still be.

A foreboding sense washed over Draco, and his face fell into his hands.

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The next two weeks of April slipped by in agony. Every day Draco and Hermione saw each other at work, but there was a gulf between them. Draco felt at a loss for what to do. She was avoiding him at all cost. They barely made eye contact, let alone spoke with one another. Even Draco’s patronus lessons had ceased.

Hermione was determined to set the relationship aside, Narcissa’s words coming back to her. People do not often consider the anguish they put someone else through apart from what they feel themselves. And she had been right. Hermione barely thought to consider his side in all of this. And if she was feeling any pain, he must be too. She had been so certain emotions wouldn’t be an issue for them. She hadn’t intentionally wanted anyone hurt. So, she decided to cut if off – to end the suffering.

A few days after they had slept – and only slept – together, Draco attempted to talk with Hermione in her office. When he got to her door, however, Cormac McLaggen was back on the scene. A foreign heat swept across Draco’s face, and he turned to take the lift home instead.

Now, here it was, the first day of May. Draco sat in a daze at his office desk, ignoring the case files piled high on his desk, trying to pinpoint where he had gone wrong. Because he must have if she was avoiding him.

She had been the one to suggest fake dating in the first place. And she had been the one to insist on “practicing.” So why did he feel like he had messed things up? He didn’t think he was bad at it: he had been attentive, thoughtful, a true gentleman. And he knew she had enjoyed their first kiss, not to mention the night in his library.

“You look awful.” The voice of Harry Potter came from his doorway.

Draco grunted in response.

Harry shut the door behind him and sat in front of Draco. “All right. Tell me what happened.”

Draco’s head rolled up to look at him. “You’ll have to ask her because I have no idea.”

Cursing, Harry ran a hand through his hair. “This is about you and Hermione? Malfoy, the benefit dinner is tomorrow night. Tomorrow. Do you not remember what I said a few weeks ago?”

“Like I said. Ask her.”

Harry sighed. “Go wait in my office.”

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Harry stomped into Hermione’s office next, but had no luck figuring out what happened. He brought her back to his office in an attempt to sort it out.

Hermione kept her eyes down as she took the seat next to Draco, but saw him in her peripherals.

He wasn’t looking at her.

Harry sat at his desk, a tired hunch in his shoulders. He clasped his hands together and sighed.

“I don’t know what is going on here. But seeing as I can’t get a straight answer from either of you, here is how this is going to go. The two of you will be attending the benefit dinner tomorrow. Together. You will arrive together and leave together. You will not argue, you will not leave each other’s side, and you will be a convincing happy couple, even if you have to pretend.”

The irony of Harry’s statement was not lost on either of them.

“Got it?”

Hermione turned her head away from them. “Fine,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Malfoy?” Harry asked.

Draco’s chin was jutted out, but he nodded.

“Good,” Harry said. “Now both of you go home. You’re not getting any work done here anyway. See you tomorrow night.”

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Draco had never been to Hermione’s penthouse, but it’s where they had agreed for him to pick her up for the evening. He punched in the code for her floor on the lift, his hands moist from nerves. Other than deciding on where to meet, they hadn’t spoken since leaving Harry’s office.

He saw tonight as a last-ditch effort. It was the last time he knew he would be attached to her, and he intended to make the most of it.

The elevator dinged and opened into the entryway of her home.

“Just a minute,” she called from a separate room.

Draco relaxed. Her tone was light.

She’s not an idiot. She knows we have to pull this off tonight.

He patted his hands on the sides of his slacks. When he looked up, his mouth fell open.

Hermione was wearing a wispy lavender gown with a sweetheart neckline and a sleeve that hung off one shoulder. The uneven hem looked like upside-down flower petals, giving a ballerina-esque look.  

Her head leant to one side as she fastened an earring. She gave him a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Hi.”

“Hi? You look like that and you just say ‘hi’ like it’s any normal day?”

This earned him a cheeky grin from her. “You look nice, too.”

He paused. He wanted to apologize then and there for…well, whatever it was that he’d done wrong. To say he’d like to date her in a not-fake way. But courage failed him, as it often did, and he worried it would ruin the polite back and forth they had going right now. He cleared his throat and held out his arm.

“Ready?”

She held onto him tightly. Draco ignored the warmth that spread in his chest and apparated them to the gates of Hogwarts.