A/N: *Tip toes in*

*deposits the new chapter, using her hand to cover the date of the last update*

*blushes and stammers an apology for taking so long*

*scrambles over the back of the couch before you throw things*


Howl for Me

By Kittenshift17

Chapter 26

Mid-morning sunlight streamed in through the window of Draco Malfoy's bedroom to find a werewolf and a witch sprawled across the king-sized bed in a tangle of limbs. Hermione Granger groaned softly as she stretched, coming awake slowly and enjoying the pop of her vertebrae as her back cracked delightfully. Behind her, Draco grizzled at the way she was wiggling, clearly hungover and not at all interested in being woken just yet.

Opening her eyes slowly, Hermione peered around the bedroom, taking note of the surroundings that she expected she would need to get used to over the course of her life. The wedding was just few days away, now, and Hermione didn't know if she was nervous to have to get up in front of everyone she knew and vow herself to Malfoy, or if she just wanted to hurry up and get it over with so that she could finally shag Malfoy into a stupor.

Huffing to herself, Hermione rolled out of Malfoy's embrace and sat up slowly, not bothering to search for clothing before scuttling across the bedroom and into the bathroom to handle her bladder – the reason she'd awoken in the first place. She laughed softly to herself when she returned to the bedroom to find Malfoy still asleep, but fussing on the bed. His hands smoothed over the space she'd vacated beside him and he emitted a low growl when he found the sheets empty.

She couldn't hide her grin when his eyes suddenly snapped open, gold splintering throughout the silver of his irises, both the wolf and the wizard looking for her. She shook her head a little, reminding herself that he was only so interested in her as a result of their injections, needing to keep that fact in focus, lest she begin to think he actually just really was this infatuated with her.

His eyes darted to her when she moved, narrowing slightly before he recognised her – having to squint against the sunshine. His mouth twitched when he traced his eyes over every naked inch of her, and Hermione knew it was the result of the oxytocin in their injections that had her swaying her hips a little enticingly as she crossed the room slowly in his direction without a skerrick of self-consciousness. He smirked just a little, watching her like a wolf watching his prey and when he actually licked his chops, Hermione couldn't help but giggle just a little bit.

"Morning," he said, his voice coming out low and husky, gravelly with sleep in a way that made her core throb needily.

His nostrils flared, picking up on the scent of her desire and his smirk grew a little wider, making Hermione blush just the tiniest bit as she reached the edge of the bed.

"Good morning," she replied, unable to keep from smiling at him.

If she'd been told as early as two weeks ago that she might smile shyly at Draco Malfoy whilst naked in his bedroom and wet for him, in short order, she'd have laughed them out of the room. But here she stood, wondering if he'd be up for a morning romp.

"Come here," he commanded in that same husky voice and Hermione had no choice but to obey, lowering herself to the bed and crawling across it.

He reached for her as soon as she was close enough, tugging on her wrist and pulling her down on top of him. Hermione squeaked when he looped his arms around her, holding her captive against his chest while he buried his face against her neck, breathing in her scent and emitting a soft, purring sort of growl.

"You smell good enough to eat," he murmured, trailing a line of kisses over her skin and making her temperature spike.

"You don't smell too bad yourself," Hermione replied, her nose in his hair by his ear.

"I'm going to eat you," he muttered, nuzzling her scar before biting her just hard enough to break the skin.

Hermione hissed at the sting, closing her eyes against the rush of endorphins.

"We agreed you'd stop breaking the skin until you can mark me properly," she moaned when her back arched, her body reacting to the injection of more of the lycanthropy virus.

"I don't think I can resist for that long," he replied truthfully. "Merlin's beard, you smell amazing, Granger."

Hermione sighed, letting him pull her even closer before she felt his hands smooth down the length of her back to grip her arse. He moved her until she was sprawled over him once more, his erection a throbbing, solid length of heat between them, making her think that she wasn't sure she could resist him for as long as it would take to get to their wedding, either.

"Do we have anywhere to be today?" he asked when he was holding her snugly, clearly thinking that if he instigated anything more with her than being allowed to hold her, he might lose control and break their deal to wait.

"We have to have another round of injections this evening," Hermione pointed out. "And move the rest of my things here. And I'm sure some of the potions in your lab might need attention."

He sighed.

"All of those things can wait though, right?" he confirmed.

"Wait for what?" Hermione asked, smiling a little. "I have to be honest, if we do anything more than what we currently are this morning, waiting for the wedding day is going to be tossed out the window."

Malfoy smirked, looking wickedly amused by the very idea.

"You and me both, Wifey," he admitted. "But we could sleep some more. We could spend most of the day in bed, in fact."

"We could," Hermione allowed. "We probably shouldn't."

"Why not?" he wanted to know.

"It would be lazy, and a waste of the day."

"If I give you a good book to read, will you still think so?" he asked seriously.

"I… well… no, I suppose not," Hermione allowed.

She flinched when he took one hand off her arse and held his arm out in the direction of his bookshelf across the room, silently and wandlessly levitating the book over to the bed, where he caught it before offering it to her with a charming smile.

"Are you trying to bribe me to stay in bed just so you don't have to let go of me all day, and so I won't put on clothes?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

"What if I am?" he wanted to know.

Hermione laughed, shaking her head at him and wondering what to do about the feelings of fondness welling up inside of her for this incorrigible wizard.

"Fine," she said. "But if Ginny teases me about this, I'm blaming you."

He smirked before stretching up to press a kiss to the end of her nose affectionately.

"I'll gladly take the blame if it means we get to stay naked and I don't have to share you with anyone all day," he replied before rolling her off him, turning her so that she was facing away from him should she want to begin reading the book he'd given her, rather than sleeping, before he spooned himself around her.

Hermione turned her head, trailing a line of kisses along the length of his arm when he slid it under her neck. She hummed with delight when he nipped her shoulder one more time before settling down around her, holding her close and drifting back to sleep.


"I'm going to be pregnant before we even reach the wedding day, at this rate," Ginny Weasley panted, looking across the pillows at Blaise Zabini where he laid beside her, also panting from the wild love-making session they'd just completed.

"Good," he grunted, smirking just a little. "You should've already had at least one of my kids by now, I reckon."

Ginny narrowed her eyes on him, though she couldn't quite hide her grin.

"You really think so?" she asked.

"What if I do?" he asked, looking over at her and raising his eyebrows.

"I…." Ginny frowned for a moment, nibbling her bottom lip nervously. "I'm sorry. I really was an idiot to have been running after Harry when you and I had something much more real."

Blaise winced at the mention of Potter whilst in their bed, but he didn't complain about it. He didn't know what to say to her. A part of him was still hurt that she'd chosen to pursue something with Potter even when he'd clearly been the better choice.

She rolled toward him a little closer, shuffling over until she was stretched against his side, smoothing her hand over his chest before pillowing her cheek on his shoulder. If she minded that he was sweaty from shagging her, she didn't let on. Instead she snuggled into him and Blaise tried to ignore the stirrings in his chest that he should forgive her for everything and confess that he was as in love with her today as he'd been at seventeen and that had she not run off with fucking Potter, he would've shagged at least three children into her by now, without a Ministry mandate to do so and just because he fucking wanted to.

"Do you think we'll ever get past it?" she asked quietly.

"I think that if you keep shagging me like you have been, I could forget," he said, only too willing to blackmail her if it meant he could ravish her every day for the rest of his life.

"I think that could be arranged," she laughed. "So… are you nervous?"

"About the wedding?" he guessed.

Ginny nodded.

Blaise thought about it for a moment.

"No," he admitted finally, supposing it was bad form to own up to his feelings, but confessing them to her just the same. "I've imagined vowing myself to you for years, Ginevra. I'm not nervous to get up in front of everyone we know and do it for real. For me, the day can't come fast enough."

She lifted her head, her eyes wide as she turned to look at him in surprise to hear him admit it.

"Really?" she asked hopefully, smiling widely at him.

Blaise shrugged his shoulders, trying to hide how desperately he loved her, trying to keep from scaring her off again like he'd done last time. Mandated or not, he wouldn't put it past his witch to run for it if he came on too strong, too soon.

She traced her eyes over his face curiously before a little smirk pulled at the corners of her mouth.

"Blaise?" she asked quietly.

"Mmm?" he hummed, smoothing a hand down the length of her back and marvelling at the silky feel of her warm skin all over again.

"I love you," she admitted quietly. "And it's not because of the stupid injections they're giving us, or some chemically engineered feeling. I love you. I… I'm so excited to start a life with you that I think Hermione's sick of hearing me talk about it."

Despite himself, Blaise felt a genuine smile pull the corners of his mouth up.

"I love you, too, Ginevra," he murmured, leaning close and stealing another dizzying kiss from her lips.

She was squirming with delight, her smile so big it was in danger of cracking her face when she pulled back after several long, delicious minutes.

"So…" she began, still squirming even as her cheeks turned pink and she traced her fingertips through his chest hair distractedly.

"So?" he asked, raising one eyebrow.

"What will we name the kids?"

Blaise tried to hide his wide grin in response, but from the way she peeked at him and smiled even bigger, he didn't think he succeeded.


Ron Weasley opened his eyes to the most amazing feel of someone's amply proportioned arse pressing insistently against his cock and he blinked when a headful of black hair swam into view.

Frowning, he lifted his head from the pillow to peer over the shoulder of the naked woman warming his bed. He blanched when the pug-nosed face of a sleeping Pansy Parkinson registered in his mind.

"Oh, bloody hell," he muttered, glancing over the two of them and recognising that in addition to being horribly hungover, he was naked and spooning his Ministry mandated fiancé. She was naked too, and he couldn't quite help the way his morning erection throbbed against her arse when he traced his eyes over the witch appreciatively, noting the swell of her breasts and glorying in the plumpness of her arse.

Well, he'd fucked her, he sighed, recalling in vivid detail having done so last night after bickering with her all the way out of Malfoy Manor. He recalled latching onto her round arse when she'd gotten in his face about something, and he recalled disapparating the two of them to the tiny flat he shared with Harry, shoving her up against his bedroom door and snogging her senseless just to get her to stop bloody talking. Because Merlin knew the witch could talk the ear of a bloody elephant.

He didn't regret it.

She was a pretty decent fuck, all things considered. Maybe being married to her wouldn't be so bad if he could just snog her into submission whenever she started bitching him out about something, and if he could bend her over and fuck her whenever she started giving him grief or just generally existed in his vicinity. He hadn't been kidding when he told Hermione he'd have an army of children if it would get Pansy to cooperate or just to leave him the hell alone.

Shaking his head at himself for the thought, Ron twisted to look at the clock on his bedside table. It was barely mid-morning, he noted, wondering why he'd woken up in the first place. Pansy was still dead to the world beside him, her breathing deep and even with sleep, and her arse was snug against his cock. Smiling just a little even though he knew there'd be hell to pay later when she woke up and starting screeching about this mess again, Ron looped his arm over the witch, pulling her back against him and little more snugly and closing his eyes once more, determined to sleep for a bit longer without her screaming at him.


The next time Hermione woke, she blinked to find that she was alone in Draco's enormous bed. Rolling to her back she peered across the empty bed before smoothing her hand over Draco's side of the sheets. They were cold under her hand, indicating that he'd been gone for a while.

Blinking and sitting up slowly, Hermione glanced around the room.

"Malfoy?" she asked, wondering if he was in the bathroom.

No answer came, and Hermione sighed as her stomach grumbled. A glance at the clock told her that it was well after lunch. Hungry, and wondering where her fiancé was, Hermione swung her legs out of bed and rose to her feet, stretching languidly for a moment before strolling into the wardrobe and collecting some clothes so that she could face the day. Opting for a simple pair of jeans and a tank top, Hermione left the bedroom in search of food or Draco, whichever came first.

She had no idea where to look, other than his lab, and she didn't think she could face a collection of bubbling potions without some food in her stomach. Trailing through the house in the direction of the dining room, Hermione was surprised by the silence of the house and she wondered where Lucius and Narcissa were.

"Mistress Hermione?" one of the elves said, appearing as she entered the dining room.

"Hello," Hermione greeted the creature.

"You hungry, Miss?" the elf asked hopefully.

"I am," Hermione nodded. "Could I have some bacon, and maybe some waffles… oh, and maybe a pot pie?"

"Starting with the weird cravings before I've even had the chance to impregnate you, wifey?" Malfoy's voice drawled from somewhere and Hermione looked around, trying to spot him.

"Where are you?" she asked when she couldn't see him anywhere, frowning in confusion.

"Up here," he said, and Hermione looked up in the direction his voice had come from.

Through the door to the left the entrance to a lavish library could be seen and Hermione squinted against the afternoon sun pouring in through one of the high windows, finally spotting Draco where he was lounging on a second-story of the library in the window seat, apparently enjoying the warmth of the sun. Hermione felt a smile pull against the corners of her mouth to see that he hadn't even looked up from the book he was reading, and that he hadn't bothered to don a shirt. Or if he had, he'd taken it off and left it somewhere. He'd even pried the window open and was stretched out on the window seat soaking up the rays of sunlight.

Hermione looked back in the direction where she'd seen the elf, but it was gone. Shaking her head and letting herself into the library, Hermione crossed the room to the staircase, resisting the urge to pick up a book for herself. Draco didn't lift his head as she climbed the stairs and crossed to where he was sitting.

"You alright?" he asked when she stopped next to him noting that he was reading a ponderous Potions textbook.

"Mmmm," Hermione hummed. "I woke up hungry and you were gone."

"Eager to snack on me again, were you?" he taunted, slanting a wicked look in her direction.

"I might've been," Hermione said, lifting her chin. "Have you eaten?"

"Mmmm," he hummed affirmatively in response, lowering his eyes to his book once more. "Woke up starving a little after lunch."

"Are your parents here?" Hermione asked, peering around the room.

"They're in the garden," he said, continuing to read in a way that made Hermione want to squirm simply because he seemed so intent on it. "Mother's attempting to ensure that the entire property is perfect in preparation for the wedding. Father's overseeing things with his book."

He nodded in the direction of the garden that could be seen beyond the window and she smiled a little when she spotted Narcissa out there in what looked suspiciously like jeans, a singlet-top with spaghetti straps, and gardening gloves, while Lucius reclined on the grass nearby with a book in one hand and his wand in the other. He seemed to be distractedly vanishing whatever weeds Narcissa yanked out of the garden beds.

"Supervising them, are you?" she teased Draco softly when she noted that he was sitting in sight of them.

"Wolf thing," he muttered distractedly as he turned the page. "Father and I are rarely outside of each other's view, except at night."

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"A pack mentality urge?" she guessed.

"Mmmm," Draco nodded, seeming entirely distracted by the passage he was reading.

Knowing all too well what it was like to be completely absorbed in a book like that, Hermione shook her head and strolled away, intent on finding a book of her own to read.

"Not that shelf," he warned when she strolled toward one at the far ending of the landing where his window seat was.

Hermione stopped, turning to look at him.

"The books on the far shelf are all possessed," he warned, lifting his eyes to hers for a few moment. "They scream if you open them. A few are cursed too. Don't touch that shelf, Granger."

"Oh," Hermione frowned. "Right. Well, do you have some kind of directory for this place?"

"Down there," he pointed toward a large lectern in the middle of the room by the main doors into the library, rather than the side-entrance she'd taken from the dining room.

"Excellent," Hermione said before skipping down to make use of it.

"Mistress?" the elf squeaked when she was midway through searching the directory for the best books on lycanthropy.

Hermione looked down at the creature. It carried a tea tray laden with bacon and waffles and a large pot pie.

"Oh, thank you," Hermione said.

"You eat at the table, Miss?" the elf asked.

Hermione opened her mouth to answer, but Draco cut her off before she could.

"She'll eat up here, Gobbly," he instructed the elf. "Bring a little side table up by the window seat. Could you bring me something to snack on, too? That bacon smells delicious."

"Yes, Master," the elf said, running up the stairs with the tray and levitating a table next to the long window seat. He set the tray on the table at the other end to where Draco was sitting, indicating that Hermione would sit at the other end of the long seat.

Spotting a book on one of the shelves that she wanted to try, Hermione picked it up before climbing the stairs once more. Draco pulled his feet up to make room for her so she could sit down, his nose still buried in his book and Hermione grinned a little as she got comfortable before reaching for her food and opening her book. She almost laughed when Malfoy slid his feet under the backs of her calves, insistent on touching her when they were in such close proximity despite being absorbed in his book.

"You want some bacon?" Hermione offered the werewolf after a few mouthfuls.

He looked up, his eyes fixed on her suddenly and Hermione watched the way he tipped his head to one side ever so slightly as he regarded her.

"You're offering me food?" he asked, raising one eyebrow.

"You've been sharing yours with me," Hermione reminded him. "Much to everyone's surprise and against your own nature, I might add."

He nodded slowly, and Hermione picked up a rasher of bacon with her fingers before offering it to him. She was intrigued when he slowly set down his book and shuffled across the cushion until he was sitting with his knees bent up on either side of her body, having lifted her legs and pulled them over his thighs until he was well inside her personal space.

She blinked when he finally took the bacon from her, carefully pulling it into bite sized pieces before offering them right back to her. Hermione frowned at him.

"Don't you want it?" she asked.

"I'll wait until you're full," he said softly. "May I?"

He held the bacon up to her mouth and it occurred to Hermione that he meant to feed the bits of bacon to her.

"I… um…" she blushed. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Mmmm," he hummed. "My wolf is insistent on feeding you, for some reason."

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"That's…. uncommon."

"I know," he nodded.

"Erm… any particular reason?" she asked, carefully opening her mouth and taking the piece of offered bacon, chewing it and swallowing it while he pulled another bit off in preparation to feed that bit to her, too.

"Probably the result of not having marked you properly, yet," he said quietly. "You don't have to play along if you don't want to, Granger."

Hermione smiled gently at the offer, noting that he seemed almost embarrassed by his wanting to feed her, but didn't seem quite able to stop himself, either.

"I don't mind," Hermione said. "May I return the favour?"

He shook his head. "Not yet. Not until you've eaten your fill."

"Why do I have a sinking feeling that this will be a routine when the times comes that I'm pregnant?" she asked.

"Probably because that's where the urge is stemming from. You smell so good, and you taste so good and I want to bend you over and fuck my kid into you so badly it aches. Got to get you healthy and ready for the strain of carrying a half-werewolf to term, yeah?" he said, smiling self-deprecatingly.

"Are you feeling alright, Draco?" Hermione asked softly, letting him feed her another bite of her breakfast.

He tipped his head a little further, regarding her like a curious mutt and Hermione watched him closely wondering if he was entirely in control of himself. No gold splintered through his eyes, but she sensed that his wolf was closer to the surface and more in control than usual.

"Something's off," he admitted. "Not sure what. It's why I'm sitting here, rather than brewing. I got restless in the lab. My Father feels it, too. He keeps getting up and wandering over to stand under the window before returning to help Mother."

"Something in the air?" she asked. "Or something wolfish? The full moon isn't for a few more weeks."

"Not sure," he murmured. "But I asked Theo and Blaise around for dinner tonight."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him.

"Any particular reason?" she asked.

He nodded.

"I don't think I'll be able to resist you tonight after they give us our injections if I don't have people here to keep me in line," he confessed, feeding her more and more bites of her lunch until it was all gone.

As soon as it was, Gobbly – who must be the elf in charge of the kitchen – appeared with more food for the two of them.

"Well," Hermione said. "It'll be interesting to spend more time with Daphne, I suppose. Perhaps we should invite the other round, too? Maybe Harry and Ron, with Tracy and Pansy?"

"Maybe all of them," he said.

"You won't get snarly and chase them off like you did last night?"

"I probably will. I'll give them instructions to tell me to jam it when I do until I'm blackout drunk."

"It's that bad?" she asked, frowning at him in confusion.

"It's all I can do to sit here feeding you without stripping you out of those clothes and shagging you," he admitted, frowning at her. "I had to leave the room when I got up, else I was going to wake you by shagging you silly, waiting for the wedding be damned."

"Is this… common for you, around this time of the month?" she asked.

"No," he shook his head. "I've never felt like this before."

"And it's upsetting your father, too?" Hermione said.

"Seems to be. Though I don't know if that's because he's reacting to me, or if he's reacting to the same thing as me. He's been routinely interrupting mother all day while she's gardening. He strolls over here, and climbs the wall, or comes into the house and comes right up to me, sniffing me a bit, before going back out to her and cuddling her and snogging her," Malfoy frowned a little. "No idea why."

"Maybe it's something in the injections. I know that your parents are being given them too, to increase the chances of them giving you siblings, as per the Law."

"Maybe," he agreed. "Feels wolfish, though."

"Does reading your book and not focusing on me help?" Hermione asked, shaking her head finally to refuse the next bite of food he offered her, her stomach full to bursting.

"A little. You don't want anymore?" he offered.

"If I eat another bite I might explode," Hermione said, shaking her head at him.

He leaned closer, sniffing at her face like a curious puppy for a long moment before surprising her when he licked her right between the eyes.

When he pulled back, he gobbled up the rasher of bacon he held, never taking his eyes off her. Hermione wasn't sure what to make of it, though she didn't feel unsafe in his presence.

"May I?" she asked, reaching for the next piece of bacon, wondering if he'd let her feed him the way he'd fed her.

His brow furrowed a little and he watched her offer him the piece of bacon, carefully taking a bite, chewing, and swallowing it.

"Nope," he shook his head when he'd eaten it, frowning even more as he took the piece of bacon from her. "The wolf doesn't like that."

Hermione frowned.

"Why not?" she asked.

Malfoy shrugged his shoulders, taking another bite of his bacon while he watched her.

"Well, is there anything I can do to make this easier for you?" she asked, frowning and wondering what kind of research she might need to do to better understand what was bothering his wolf quite so much.

"I don't think so," he shook his head. "Just… be patient today."

Hermione smiled a little. "I suppose I could do that. If you let me read. Are you hot or something?"

"Mmmm," he hummed against, scratching idly as his chest as though her comment had reminded him that he was shirtless. "Uncomfortably so."

"Maybe you've been in the sun for too long?"

"No," he shook his head. "It's that that kind of hot. I feel feverish, but my skin is cold."

"Wouldn't a shirt help?"

"I got itchy. Feels like the prelude to when I grow fur at the full moon, actually," he said, frowning a little more.

"You're not going to shift and lose control, are you?" she asked worriedly.

"I hope not," he replied, looking like it might be a genuine concern. "I'd miss the wedding if I did."

"You stay transformed all month until the full moon, don't you?" she asked.

"If I shift mid-month, yeah," he said.

"That would be… inconvenient," she muttered.

"You're telling me."

"Is this the result of us holding out on shagging, do you think?" she asked.

"Could be," he said. "Don't know. I doubt Mother and Father are holding out, and he's restless, too."

Draco nodded in his father's direction when, at that moment, Lucius prowled into the library. Like Draco, he was shirtless and Hermione blushed when the elder Malfoy climbed the stairs, revealing that their shared condition affected their bodies to make them both lean to the point of wiriness. Like Draco, Lucius's flesh was riddled with scars from bite and claw-marks.

He didn't speak as he walked right up to the two of them, his nose twitching as he sniffed loudly.

He leaned toward Draco, going so far as to drop down and sit beside Draco on the window seat and press his shoulder against his son's. He didn't say anything to either of them, simply pressing his side against Draco's for a long moment. Hermione noted the way Draco leaned against him, knowing from her study of regular wolf behaviour that this was often a means of conveying closeness and comfort between packmates.

She held perfectly still when Lucius leaned toward her, still sniffing loudly and looking unhappy about what he was doing even as he did it.

"Hmmmm," the man hummed thoughtfully after a long moment of sniffing her face so intently that he'd ruffled her hair.

"It's getting worse," Draco noted, speaking mostly to his father.

"Mmmm," he nodded. "But it's not coming from her."

He nodded at Hermione.

"What's not?" Hermione asked.

"There's a scent on the wind," Lucius said quietly.

"Is it coming from Mother?" Draco asked his father seriously.

"I… maybe," Lucius frowned.

Hermione's eyes widened when he crawled across the window-seat and right through the open window. She reached a hand for him when he jumped right out the second story window and dropped to the ground. He didn't even stumble when he landed before loping across the grounds towards his wife, ambushing her from behind and scooping her into his arms with enough strength to lift her right off her feet. Narcissa uttered a little shriek of surprise and Hermione watched the way she relaxed when she realised it was Lucius, beginning to laugh and swatting him good naturedly.

"Maybe we should give them some privacy?" she suggested to Draco when Lucius turned his wife in his arms and the witch wrapped her legs around her husband, snogging him soundly.

"Yeah," Draco muttered. "Don't want to see that."

He got quickly to his feet, offering her a hand up.

"Leave it," he said when she began trying to clean up their plates. "Gobbly and Zeet will get it."

Hermione nodded, taking her book when Draco picked up his, before accepting the hand up he offered. She was surprised when he intertwined their fingers.

"Where to?" she asked.

"Back to bed?" he suggested.

"I've slept the whole day away," she laughed.

"We'll read," he said. "And I'll keep my hands to myself."

Hermione snorted, looking sideways at him.

"What?" he challenged, though he smirked a little. "I will."

"Oh, yeah, sure you will," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You just don't want me to keep my hands to myself, wifey," he taunted.

Hermione didn't bother trying to deny the accusation, tracing her eyes over his bare torso and unable to find it in her to lie. She didn't want him to keep his hands to himself.

"Maybe I don't," she allowed, lifting her chin in silent challenge.

The sound he emitted as they crossed the threshold into the bedroom actually made the hair on her arms and legs stand on end and Hermione squeaked when he snatched the book out of her grip, tossing his and hers onto the desk before he picked her up and threw her down onto the bed, following her down and looking like he might be about to devour her as his eyes splintered gold all over again.