“We just shagged in the hall,” Draco observed with a laugh, not that he would have ever said that aloud under any other circumstance. “Feeling less daring, are we?” Despite his teasing, Draco couldn’t fault her logic.
Drawing his wand, he locked the door and cast a less-than-inventive privacy charm. Such things were hardly his forte…
Tucking his wand back in his clock, Draco moved up to Hermione. Standing well inside her personal space, he pushed her knees apart with his and stood between her legs. He could already feel a stirring in his slacks.
Reaching up, he threaded his fingers in Hermione’s bushy hair and firmly but slowly guided her face down to the front of his slacks wondering if the dirty little Mudblood would show him again that she wasn’t the prude he thought she was…
If only he could remember, Draco would know she was anything but since he’d taken her arse their last night together.