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"Snacking in class, Y/N? Consider yourself lucky I don't report this to Umbridge."
Draco jeered at you, his lips curling into his signature look of disdain. He leaned onto your divination table, his elbow digging into the soft purple tablecloth. His gaze was currently transfixed on the glistening bowl of black cherries placed discretely in your lap. Professor Trelawney was slowly making her way across the room, inquiring upon the progress of the students and their crystal balls. Umbridge followed her closely, tapping incessantly at her clipboard as she surveyed the anxious woman.
"You can't blame me," you pouted, "I'm famished, and it's my favorite snack." You nudged the bowl with your leg. "Want one?"
Draco rolled his eyes.
"It would break my heart to have to take you in," he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Oh, please," you drawled, popping another cherry onto your tongue, its cold, crimson nectar bursting between your lips. "Let's not kid ourselves by pretending that you take this job seriously."
You gestured halfheartedly at the shiny facets of the new inquistorial squad crest that adorned his robes. Draco's brows furrowed indignantly.
"For your information, Y/N, I don't take this lightly. It's not like you have any other ideas on how to get in Umbridge's good graces," Draco scowled, ignoring the cherry stem you just flicked at him underneath the table. Umbridge now stood at the center of the room.
"You're not wrong, but it seems a bit dire to play the part of Umbridge's dog. I expected more from you, Draco," you snapped in hushed tones.
Draco's nostrils flared as he exhaled.
"Dog? You're being ridiculous. I can't believe you didn't just join with the rest of us," he scoffed incredulously.
You looked back at him, maintaining eye contact and a mockingly sweet smile as you delicately removed a cherry pit from your mouth.
"Why? So I can torture students for snogging in the halls or eating stone fruits during class?"
You caught the beginnings of an knowing laugh flash across the Slytherin boy's face, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. Umbridge was a few tables away.
"Now you're being more stupid than I originally took you for. I wouldn't let her touch you," he whispered sharply, as if the stated were obvious.
You stiffened at his firm yet unusually sentimental words. His eyes dropped to your lips, his expression stern. He lightly touched a finger to your bottom lip, and wiped gently. His finger and your lips were now tinted a deep magenta.
"Merlin. You've got juice all over your lips."
Your cheeks flushed the same color as the cherries in your lap.
"Shut up."
Not before rolling your eyes, you sharply pulled your boyfriend by his stupid inquisitorial squad pin into a swift kiss. He tensed, then quickly sighed into you, his minty breath cutting the sweetness the cherries had left behind. Your hands curled into his platinum hair, and you suddenly resented the fact that the two of you weren't alone. His teeth gently grazed your bottom lip before the two of you hastily pulled apart, eyes scanning the room for onlookers. Shockingly, there were none, save for Trelawney's disheveled looking owl, perched obediently near her desk.
"Here ? Really? You're practically begging to get caught," he whispered under his breath, his eyes now glued to the crystal ball in front of you in an attempt to look casual. His hand lingered on yours under the billows of the tablecloth.
"I didn't seem to hear any complaints," you snorted, eating another cherry.
Umbridge, however, was less than pleased when she arrived at your table to find you and Draco's mouths completely smeared in messy shades of ruby and jam. She was even more displeased when you jokingly offered her a cherry.
"The cherries. They're mine," your gorgeous prefect had said, earning both of you a lesser sentence of weekly detention and janitorial duties. Draco was right. He didn't let her touch you.
However, unbeknownst to her, Umbridge's punishment failed to have the desired effects. Each time you and Draco were spotted leaving the cupboards you had been sentenced to organize, or the trophy rooms you'd polished, there was no mistaking it. Both of your lips, faces, and necks were covered in hues of cherry red.