As Hermione made her way downstairs the next morning, she contemplated exactly what she wanted to say to Harry about what she'd witnessed last night.
Still deep in thought, she was brought up short by the sound of someone clearing their throat. She looked up, right into the face of her best friend.
"Oh," she said awkwardly. "Good morning, Harry."
Harry gave her an easy smile. "Good morning." He settled back against the kitchen counter, a slightly chipped blue coffee cup in his hands. "How was Buenos Aires?"
"Hot," she replied. She reached up into the cupboard and pulled out another mug, before filling it with the rich, dark coffee that Harry had already brewed. "And a bit more stressful than I'd originally hoped."
"Oh?" Harry asked. He pushed the cream towards her with one hand, the other setting his cup on the counter. "What happened?"
Hermione shifted uncomfortably. She was well aware that she'd seen something last night that she should not have, and even if it had initially been an accident, she certainly shouldn't have stayed to watch the entire time. Harry was regarding her with a calm look, eyes unfathomable, which was completely unlike him, as he usually left his emotions out for all to see. She couldn't figure out exactly how he felt, and it was adding to her discomfort. Nonetheless, she trudged on with her response.
"Well, as you know, we were meeting with the Argentinean Minister for Magic prior to the start of the conference to determine if there was any interest in starting up an exchange program. We're interested in having witches and wizards from around the world come to work for us here in England, just to get a better idea of how other countries run their Wizarding communities. I feel that we could really strengthen the Ministry here if we could incorporate those ideas that seem to work well in other places, and Kingsley agrees that it's something worth looking into."
Harry hmmed, and picked his cup back up, regarding her over the rim. "And was there any interest?"
Hermione took a drink of her coffee before speaking again, her neck prickling uncomfortably under Harry's gaze. "Well, see, that's where the problem came in. While I was talking it became quite apparent that he didn't understand a word of what I was saying. Turns out the man doesn’t even speak English, which you would have thought someone would have informed us of. We could have brought along an interpreter. I ended up using a Translation charm and we did manage to muddle through, but it was rather embarrassing for me, to say the least. At least I didn't resort to using obnoxious hand signals and arm movements the way Fudge did at the World Cup that year with the Bulgarians, I suppose."
Harry smirked. "It would have been fun to watch."
Hermione felt herself flush at the tone of Harry's voice. "Er, yes, I suppose so." She fiddled with her mug for a moment before setting it down. "Look, Harry, about last night—"
She was cut off as Harry gave a laugh. "I was wondering how long we'd have to go before you brought that up." Harry held her gaze for a moment, twisting his mug around and around in his hands. "I suppose my first question would be if you're okay with the fact that I'm seeing Draco. But," here Harry's voice became teasing, and Hermione was sure she was scarlet from her neck to her hairline, "considering your reaction last night I'm thinking you probably are, although perhaps not for the reasons I'd originally thought might be the case."
Hermione cleared her throat. "Yes, about that. I am sorry for intruding like that, Harry. I didn't mean to, really, I just…." She trailed off, unsure what to say. What could she say? She couldn't find it in herself to look away? She hadn’t wanted to look away? She risked a glance at Harry's face and saw that he was smiling, and his eyes were patient. She pressed on, then, determining that Harry deserved the truth, no matter how embarrassing it would be for her to say it.
"You and Malfoy, well, you were … well, beautiful, Harry, and I honestly just couldn't stop staring at you. I don't think I've ever seen anything like that before and frankly couldn't bring myself to step away. Even though I know I should have."
Harry was quiet for a moment before setting his cup down and reaching for her hand. He squeezed her fingers gently, then spoke. "Hermione, I have a confession to make to you. I left the door open last night on purpose. I wanted you to see who I was with, because I thought it would just be easier to tell you that way instead of actually sitting down with you and saying it to your face. I suppose it wasn't very Gryffindor of me, but I guess I just wanted something to be easy about all this."
Hermione returned the pressure on her fingers. "Is everything all right, Harry?"
Harry smiled. "Now it is. But at first, no, it really wasn't. And I'll tell you all about it, I promise, but can we wait until Draco gets down here? I think it will be easier to talk about everything if he's here, too."
Hermione blinked, surprised. "Malfoy's still here?"
Harry looked uncertain. "You did nod your head at me last night, when I'd asked him to stay. I thought that meant it was okay for him to be here this morning."
"Harry, it's fine, really, I did mean that he could stay. I just didn't think he'd still be here. I didn't know you'd want him here to talk with me."
Harry's face relaxed. "Thanks, Hermione." He pulled her into his arms and gave her a hug. She ran a hand gently up and down his back and swore she could actually feel his nervousness leaving his body.
"Draco was in the shower when I came down, so he should only be a few more minutes," Harry said quietly. He held her for another moment, then released her, picking his mug back up and placing it on the small wooden table in the middle of the kitchen. "He'll definitely want coffee, though. He's not much of a morning person."
Hermione smiled at that and pulled another mug from the cupboard. "How does he take it?"
"Black with two sugars," came a voice from the doorway, and Hermione spun around quickly, knocking her elbow into the edge of the counter.
Draco Malfoy was leaning insolently against the doorframe of the kitchen, face carefully blank. He was dressed in a grey cashmere sweater that was probably ridiculously expensive, and black trousers that were probably more so. Hermione became acutely aware that she was still in her pajamas and immediately wished she'd thought to shower and dress before coming downstairs.
Harry tugged the mug from her numb fingers and filled it with coffee and the requisite number of sugars. He caught Hermione's eye briefly and gave her a small nod and a reassuring smile, before turning his attention to Malfoy. Malfoy had been staring at Hermione, but as Harry approached him, shifted his attention to the man holding the cup of coffee before him like an offering.
"Here," Harry murmured, and Hermione watched as Malfoy lifted a hand to take the cup, fingers tightening around Harry's tan ones for a moment before fully taking the coffee.
"Thanks," Malfoy murmured back. He took a sip of the coffee and pulled himself away from the doorframe. "So," he said with a drawl. "I suppose you have questions. Let's have them, then."
Hermione cleared her throat again before scooping up her cup and sitting at the table. "Why don't we sit? I get the feeling that this isn't going to be a short story."
"No." Harry gave a rueful smile. "It's definitely not that." As he sat at the table, he gave a flick of his wand and Summoned a basket of muffins from the top of the stove. Malfoy arched an eyebrow at this.
"You didn't bake those this morning, did you?"
"No, I baked them yesterday. Let's just say that I've been planning on having this conversation for a while." Harry fiddled with the basket. "I knew Hermione was coming home last night, and wanted to have them ready. Plus it gave me something to do while I waited for you to get off work, seeing as I'm not allowed to work myself." Harry's voice had gone petulant at the end, which seemed to annoy him because he jerked out of his chair and went over to the counter. He returned to the table with the coffee pot, slamming it down on the table more forcefully than necessary.
"Harry," Malfoy said soothingly, reaching for one of his hands and holding it tight. "It's all right."
Harry dropped his head forward and huffed. "Sorry." He drew in a deep breath and slowly released it, and when he looked up his expression was once again calm.
Malfoy regarded Harry for a moment and Harry gave him a small smile. Malfoy nodded, tightening his grip on Harry's hand for a second, then released it to pick up a muffin. As Harry refilled their coffee cups, the silence between the three of them started to get slightly uncomfortable, so Hermione hastened to get the conversation started.
"How long have you and Mal- er, Draco been seeing each other, Harry?"
Malfoy smirked. "What you're really asking is whether Harry was cheating on the Weaselette, right?"
"No," Hermione replied. "I know Harry wouldn't do that." Harry snorted, and Malfoy's smirk widened. "Oh, Harry, you didn't, did you?" Hermione asked anxiously.
"No," Harry replied. "I didn't." His eyes were on the muffin in his hand, and she watched him pull it apart carefully, thinking over his response.
"Then Ginny…." She trailed off, unable to actually voice her question. But Malfoy knew what she was asking, and replied, voice heavy with disdain.
"Yes, Ginny did," he said with a sneer. "Didn't you think it odd that she was suddenly seeing Thomas so soon after breaking it off with Harry?"
"Ginny was with Dean? At the same time she was seeing you?" Hermione's voice had gone slightly shrill. "Oh, Harry!"
Harry looked up. "Hermione, relax. It's not exactly like that. There's more to that than Draco's letting on." He took a bite of his muffin, chewing slowly.
Malfoy snorted. "Always the martyr, Harry."
Harry rolled his eyes as he swallowed. "No, not really. But getting Hermione all riled up isn't really the way I wanted to start this conversation off."
Hermione sat back in her chair. "Well. Why don't you tell me what really happened, then?"
Harry sighed. "All right. To answer your original question, I've been seeing Draco for about eight months now."
"But you and Ginny only broke up six months ago," Hermione pointed out. "And yet you said you weren't seeing anyone else while you were with her."
"Ginny and I have been separated for nine months, Hermione, not six. I only moved in with you and Ron six months ago, but that didn't mean Ginny and I hadn't split before then. We just didn't tell anyone what was going on, because we knew it would be a big mess and I really didn't feel like sorting it out at first. There was no immediate reason for me to move out of our flat, because she was away with the Harpies. When she returned to London, I moved out." He paused and fiddled with his muffin.
"What happened between you and Ginny, Harry?"
Harry was quiet for a moment. Hermione could hear the clock ticking on the wall in the silence that filled the room, and fought the urge to fidget. When Harry finally spoke, his voice was weary.
"Me and Ginny had been having problems for a long time before we finally broke it off. Actually, the problems started shortly after we moved in together, which was probably a sign that things were not going as well as I'd thought. I was at the Auror Academy and away from home for long periods of time. Ginny was training with the Harpies and was away even more. When we were home together it always seemed like things turned into arguments whenever we actually tried to talk for longer than a few minutes at a time. I started spending even more time at the Academy, and when I wasn't there I was drowning my sorrows at one pub or another." Harry's lips quirked into a half-smile. "Not that I knew that's what I was doing. I just thought I was stressed."
Hermione thought about what Harry had said. It was true that once Harry started his Auror training that he was hardly around. She was lucky to be able to catch even a few minutes with him via the Floo, and even then it was typically when he was rushing out the door to the Academy. She would send a ridiculous number of owls before getting a short, scrawled note in reply that never actually answered any of her original questions.
"I always wondered why it seemed you were busier than Ron," Hermione finally said. "Considering that you and he were undergoing the same training program, I would have thought your schedules would have been identical."
Harry nodded. "They were at first. Then I started picking up extra sessions, or started taking shifts that others didn't want. I didn't realize back then that it was only because I didn't really want to be home, but of course that's exactly what it was."
Hermione sighed. "I feel like such a bad friend, Harry. I should have realized that things weren't going well for you. I mean, you've always been bad at owling me, but the two-sentence letters I was receiving were ridiculous, even for you."
Harry grinned. "Yeah. Sorry about that."
"So how exactly did you and Draco get together?"
"Well, you know that I returned Draco's wand after the war," Harry said. Hermione nodded; Ron had been against that decision and had told Harry such. It had been a rather ugly conversation. "Narcissa opened the door, and I asked her if I could please speak with Draco. She sent me into the drawing room. You know, where I'd originally taken Draco's wand from him." Harry shook his head. "I don't know if she did it on purpose, but it immediately made me uncomfortable."
Harry glanced at Malfoy. "When Draco came in he noticed my anxiety, and figured out the reason behind it. I still remember the flash of recognition that crossed his face." Here Harry smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. "Of course I tried to dismiss it, but, well…." Harry trailed off and sighed, and Hermione knew exactly what he was thinking of.
"I decided pretty quickly that the drawing room wasn't a good place for us to meet." Malfoy continued the tale, and Harry gave him a grateful look. "I took us outside into the gardens instead, figuring that there probably weren't any unwelcome memories associated with those."
"Anyway," Harry said, "I returned his wand, and we actually managed to have a civil conversation for the first time ever. We didn't talk about anything to do with the war, of course, but did manage some conversation about Quidditch and other trivial topics. I found out that Draco was studying to be an Unspeakable, and told him I was training to be an Auror. His response was a rather droll—"
"How predictable," Malfoy drawled, and Harry laughed.
"Yes, well. What else was I supposed to do? It's what I'd been trained for my entire life. And I really do enjoy it. Most of the time," he amended at Malfoy's raised eyebrow.
"I was really surprised at how easy it was to talk to Draco, and found myself wanting to spend more time with him. I'd been considering asking him out for a drink when I bumped into him in Diagon Alley. That was the day you'd made me pick up all those Divination books, remember?"
"Well, as you know, every Friday all the Auror trainees would get together at the Three Broomsticks for drinks. When I bumped into Draco in Diagon Alley, I decided to ask him along. Actually, you probably remember that, too."
Hermione gave a slight smile. She did remember that, and it had been yet another ugly confrontation between Harry and Ron. Ron had been outraged that Harry wanted to spend time with Malfoy. There had been a lot of shouting and Harry had finally left in a huff, slamming the door to the Burrow so hard that the cuckoo clock in the living room had gone off. Molly had come hurrying out of the kitchen with her face covered in flour and proceeded to tear into Ron, telling him in no uncertain terms that he was being a right prat about everything and if Harry wanted to spend time with Draco Malfoy then he had every right to do so. Ron hadn't liked that one bit and had turned to Hermione for support, but since she'd never seen Harry get so angry about something like this before she knew that it was obviously important to him and found herself unable to agree. Needless to say, Ron hadn't liked that, either, and they'd actually gone for two weeks before she'd been able to talk him around.
"Ron wasn't pleased, to say the least, so I decided that I would have to start spending time with Draco away from Ron. So we'd get together once a week or so for drinks and just hang out. It was nice. As we met each week we slowly made our way around to our years in school." Harry paused here and turned his head to look at Malfoy. "They … weren't always easy conversations."
Malfoy gave Harry a soft smile. He reached a hand up and cupped Harry's face in his palm, smoothing a thumb across one cheek. "It was worth it, though."
"Yeah," Harry said quietly, turning his face to nuzzle Malfoy's fingers. "It was."
Hermione knew it wasn't any of her business, so she didn't ask what exactly was talked about during those difficult conversations. Instead, she focused on Ginny. "What was going on with Ginny during all of this?"
Harry sighed and Malfoy dropped his hand. "She was still at Hogwarts at first, and I'd go visit her on Hogsmeade weekends. I was a little better about owling her than I was with you, but I sort of felt obligated to keep up our correspondence. She was my girlfriend."
"And I was just your friend?" Hermione asked wryly.
"It wasn't like that, Hermione. You know that. I guess I just knew you'd be more accepting of the lack of owls, whereas Ginny, well…." Harry trailed off, and heaved another sigh. "Ginny was a bit more demanding of my attention," he finally said, and Malfoy coughed.
"To put it mildly," he said, nudging Harry's shoulder with his own and Harry gave another half-smile.
"When she finished Hogwarts everyone just assumed we'd move in together, and I guess I didn't see any reason why we shouldn't. For the first couple of months it wasn't bad at all. She went to practice, I went to my training, we came home, had dinner, had sex and went to sleep. Then got up in the morning and did it all over again.
"It started getting repetitive, though, and we began arguing, so I started taking those extra shifts, or meeting with Dawlish for some extra one-on-one training. On the nights when I couldn't do anything at the Academy I went to the pub. After a few months of this the Quidditch season started, so Ginny was away for her matches more than she was home, and there was no reason for me to be at the flat anyway." Harry shrugged, and took another bite of his muffin.
"We sort of continued on like this for a while. I'd occasionally go see one of her matches, or go visit her while she was away at her training sessions, but after awhile we just grew apart. I was actually in the Auror Corps at this point and was also being sent out on assignments, which meant that I was around even less than before. I'd continued to see Draco during all of this and finally decided to talk with him about what was going on. He told me that he thought we'd simply become complacent with each other, and that, if it was what I really wanted, I should try to bring a bit of life back into the relationship."
"Were you already interested in Harry at this point?" Hermione asked Malfoy.
Malfoy chuckled. "Yes, and he was perfectly obtuse about it all."
Harry rolled his eyes at this. "Yes, well I was still thinking that me and Ginny were supposed to be together. It didn't help that Mrs. Weasley kept dropping anvil-sized hints about our future wedding."
Hermione smiled. "Molly definitely wasn't keeping her hope that you and Ginny would marry well-hidden."
Harry shrugged again. "I finally determined that Draco was right, that I needed to try to do something special, so decided I'd surprise her at her final home match of the season. I contacted the manager of the Harpies and told her my plans. She owled me a ticket to the game and a pass to get back into the changing rooms. I was planning on visiting Ginny briefly before the match and then taking her out for a nice, romantic evening afterwards. You know, flowers, candlelight, the whole bit. Needless to say, it didn't quite work out as I'd intended." Harry's voice had a bitter edge to it, and Hermione had a feeling she knew what he was going to say next.
"I showed up pretty early, as I wanted to catch Ginny before they started in on their pre-game warm-ups. I slipped into the changing rooms and headed up towards the front, where Ginny's locker was." Harry's jaw clenched and Malfoy ran a hand gently along his upper arm. Hermione watched as the movement soothed Harry enough so he was able to continue.
"Did you know that Dean is the trainer for the Harpies?" Harry asked, and Hermione blinked at the apparent subject change.
"No," she said slowly. "I knew he had something to do with the team, thought he might have been in the front office or something. I wasn't aware that he was the trainer."
"Well, he is," Harry said shortly, "and I suppose Ginny had an injury that she hadn't told me about. One that apparently could only be cured by having sex with the trainer."
Hermione felt her eyes widen in shock. "What?"
"Oh, yes," Harry said. "I personally had never heard of an injury that could only be cured by sex, although it certainly sounds like something I could get behind." He gave a bitter laugh. "Wish I'd known about it while I'd been in school. It certainly beats having all the bones Vanished from your arm."
"Did Ginny see you?" Hermione asked, her voice hushed.
"Yes." Harry took a drink of his coffee and regarded her over the rim. "I didn't even wait to hear what she was going to say. I left straight away and Apparated back to London, walked into the first pub I came to and got rip-roaringly drunk."
"Harry called me on my mobile completely smashed," Malfoy said. "I finally worked out where he was and Apparated to him. I knew he wasn't in any condition to make it home himself, and figured I'd help him out. I knew that he was supposed to have gone and seen the Weaselette that day, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that something had gone wrong."
"Oh, Harry," Hermione said. "I'm sorry."
Harry shrugged his shoulders irritably. "I'm fine now, for the most part. It was more the fact that she couldn't just be honest with me that still bothers me."
"When did you finally talk with Ginny?" she asked. Even though she'd asked Harry the question, it was Malfoy who'd answered.
"I made him wait a few days until he wasn't still tempted to throw things. Even though she deserved it, I didn't want to see Harry get slapped with a battery charge or something. Besides, it took him nearly a full day to get over his hangover, even with the help of some pretty strong potions."
Harry entwined their fingers together on the tabletop. "Draco got me home from the pub and into bed. I don't actually remember all that much from that night, but I do remember one thing." He rubbed his thumb over the back of Malfoy's hand and turned his head so that he was looking at the blond next to him.
"I remember thinking that you looked like an angel in the moonlight as you cursed and fought to get me into bed. I remember that because it was ridiculously sappy, and I couldn't actually believe I'd thought it."
Hermione had thought Malfoy would laugh at this, but he didn't. He simply lifted their hands and placed a kiss on Harry's fingers.
"That was the start of things," Harry said after a moment. "When I could think a bit more objectively – which wasn't until after I'd had two doses of hangover potion and thrown up once – I started really thinking about how I felt. To be honest, I wasn't really all that surprised that Ginny was seeing someone else. I was angry that she hadn't bothered to tell me, and really pissed off with Dean for buggering my girlfriend, but I couldn't actually say that I was surprised. I was surprised to find out the way I did, but not really surprised that something like that was going on. Does that make sense?"
"I think so, Harry," Hermione said. "How long did it take for you and Draco to start seeing each other romantically, then?"
"It was shortly after I'd finally confronted Ginny. We had it out, I yelled a lot, she screamed even more, and as I stood there shouting I realized that I just honestly didn't care. If I had been honest with myself, our relationship had been over for a long time and I was just too stupid to see it. But what really made me think was when she'd accused me of sleeping with Draco on the side. Because we most certainly were not – and I'd actually never even thought of that – but suddenly it made a whole lot of sense in a way that not much had made sense of late.
"I remember just standing there as she screamed, not even hearing her words, and kept repeating 'sleeping with Draco?' over and over in my head. The thought was not nearly as disturbing as it would have been even a couple of years prior, and it made me do a bit of soul-searching. I finally cut Ginny off mid-rant and told her that I had to go. She sneered, 'Going to see Draco?' The way she said his name set my teeth on edge, so I didn't even try to lie. I told her yes."
Hermione felt laughter bubble up inside of her and tried to tamp it down. "Oh, Harry. That probably wasn't the smartest thing you could have said."
"Probably not," Harry agreed. "But it was the truth, and at that point I honestly didn't care how she felt. I Apparated away just as she hurled a paperweight at my head, immediately called Draco and had him meet me for lunch. We did quite a bit of talking that day. It took some persuasion but I finally got him to agree to go to dinner with me."
"I was worried that Harry was only interested in seeing me to get back at the Weaselette," Malfoy explained at Hermione's perplexed look. "I wanted him to prove to me that he was serious, that this wasn't just a bit of experimentation or something. So I made us go slow."
"What he means is that he made me court him," Harry said with a grin.
"All good things in life are worth the wait," Malfoy said with a drawl.
"Of course they are," Harry replied.
Hermione sat back in her chair and regarded Harry thoughtfully. "You're happier now with Draco than you'd ever really been with Ginny, aren't you?"
"Yes," Harry said unapologetically and Hermione nodded in response.
"I'm glad, Harry. No one deserves happiness more than you do."
Harry gave her a grateful smile. "Thanks, Hermione. For everything."
She reached across the table and squeezed his free hand. "I love you, Harry," she said simply.
"I love you, too," he said softly, and she could hear the tightness in his voice showing just how much her words meant to him.
Deciding that she needed to lighten the mood a bit, she said teasingly, "So when will you be moving in with Draco, then?"
"What makes you think he's moving in with me?" Malfoy asked.
Hermione felt herself flush and she turned wide eyes on Harry, who burst into laughter.
"You didn't tell him?" she demanded.
Harry was laughing so hard that he couldn't answer verbally, and simply shook his head.
"Tell me what?" Malfoy asked.
"Oh, God," Hermione said, and dropped her face into her hands.
"Tell me what, Harry?" Malfoy said threateningly.
Harry finally calmed himself enough to answer, wiping away the tears that had streamed down his face. "Hermione saw us last night, Draco."
"She saw…." He trailed off, and Hermione risked a glance at his face. She'd been expecting to see him looking angry, but instead he looked sly.
"Well, well," he said silkily. "Does Weasley know that his wife is a voyeur?"
"Oh my God, NO!" she screeched. "I am not! It was just last night, with the two of you! It's not like it's something I indulge in on a regular basis or anything!" Her voice had become shrill and she fought to bring it back down to normal.
"Ah, but you did enjoy it? A kink you never previously knew existed, perhaps?" Malfoy asked, a hint of that drawling quality that she found so infuriating coloring his voice.
"Oh my God," she repeated, burying her face in her hands again. "This is so embarrassing." With as scarlet as her face was she would be surprised if it ever returned to normal.
"Relax, Hermione," Harry said. "And stop teasing her Draco. It's not her fault that we're nice to look at."
Hermione peeked through her fingers and groaned at the teasing smirk on her best friend's face. "I am never going to live this down, am I?"
"Nope," both men replied.
"Oh, well," Hermione said, dropping her hands. She decided it was time to turn the tables just a bit, so continued, saying, "I suppose it's good that Ron isn't a Legilimens. I don't suppose he would get the same amount of enjoyment out of it as I did."
A brief look of horror crossed Harry's face. "Oh, God," he said. He swallowed heavily. "I don't even want to imagine that. It would be … bad," he finished weakly.
"Speaking of Weasley," Malfoy interrupted smoothly, "what do you think we can expect when we tell him?"
Hermione winced. "I think it might be best if I try to soften him up a bit beforehand. Maybe if I really push the angle of Ginny cheating on you it will help butter him up a bit. But I won't lie, because you're not stupid and I'm sure you've already guessed what his reaction will probably be. You know Ron doesn't like Draco at all. He's not going to like this, either."
"We'll handle it," Harry said firmly. "It's not really anyone's business anyway. It's my life and I can choose to spend it with whoever I want. And I want Draco."
Malfoy's response to this was to lean forward and kiss Harry hard. The kiss was gentled almost at once, and Hermione was once again struck with how absolutely perfect they looked together. As the kiss started to become a bit heated, though, she cleared her throat loudly.
"Right, well, I have to go into the Ministry today to give Kingsley my report." The two men hadn't even bothered to separate, and Malfoy was actually working a hand inside Harry's dressing gown, trailing kisses down Harry's jaw, so Hermione decided it would be best if she took her leave.
"Feel free to stay as long as you want, Draco," Hermione said quickly, gathering up the mugs as Harry made a flailing gesture and nearly dumped his onto the floor. "Harry, I'll see you later."
Harry's response was to moan. Hermione flushed from head to toe and hurriedly dumped the cups in the sink.
"Right, well, see you later!" she shouted over her shoulder as she ran from the kitchen. She was sure she heard Malfoy chuckle, but it was quickly drowned out by another moan from Harry.
As beautiful as they were, she decided as she hastened up the stairs, she definitely didn't need a repeat performance.