Harry turned to look at his husband in exasperation.
Sanguini grinned evilly as he leaned against the door to the library.
"You don't like them, my heart?"
"Like them?!" Harry exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "You replaced all the books with skulls! Why would I like that?"
Sanguini sauntered lazily over to where his husband stood, hungrily drinking in the angry gaze, and reached out to trail one cold finger over Harry's flushed cheek.
"Ahh," he purred, "but wasn't it you who complained that every time the bookworm visits, you barely get to speak with her before she secludes herself in the library?" When Harry's eyes widened in comprehension, Sanguini leaned down and licked lightly up the side of his neck, smirking at the shiver that went through the smaller body.
"Hermione," Harry said weakly. "Her name is Hermione, not 'bookworm'."
"Do not fret, my heart, I call her by name among others, but when it is just the two of us, surely it is of no great importance..." the vampire trailed off, lightly nipping at Harry's earlobe. Harry's breath hitched.
"Just... don't forget to replace the books later, alright?" he said, his head involuntarily tipping away to grant his lover better access.
"Of course not, dragul meu..." Sanguini breathed against Harry's skin, enjoying the shiver that evoked. Harry was still so sensitive, even after ten years of marriage, something that the vampire greatly enjoyed.
"So..." another lick against the warm neck, "when does the bookworm arrive?"
"Not for another hour," Harry whispered, hoping his husband's mind was running along the same lines as his. Apparently, it was.
"Then I can think of a better place to be than the library..." Claiming Harry's lips in a deep kiss, Sanguini whisked him away to the bedroom, eager to hear his young lover's cries ringing through the empty mansion.