Draco swore she was going to slap the shit out of him when he pulled away. Her eyes definitely looked liked they were about to. The kiss wasn’t even in the script, but somehow his lips made their way onto hers at the end of Act III. “YES! YES!” said Bart, “This is the passion we need!”

“Why did we stop?” Draco said nothing as he breathed cold air from his nostrils. A faint grin crept its way onto the corner of his lips. She looked at him quizzically, then back at the house, then back at him. It was the house they had always passed on their morning walks.

“Run away with me.” She gawked at him, as if he had just slapped her. “What?” She knew what he had said, but she was hoping, praying even, that he was joking or had post-coital delirium or something. “You heard me. Run away with me.”