Hermione was rather more coordinated than he was. When he landed on the bed - which he had actually made, by some impossible stroke of luck - he still had his shoes on and his sleeve was tangling in his watch and it all seemed a little hopeless. But that was all right; he was more interested in her anyway. He grinned, slipping his arm a little tighter around her waist beneath her shirt and pulling her down with him. He wouldn't even complain that she hadn't noticed his room was - relatively - clean.