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"Prying, are we?"

"Speak to your son," Hermione said, handing him Sam's journal. "This is horrible!"

Severus snorted. "We've already had the Talk."

"Have another one. Seven pages? Seven girls?"

"I believe that this," Severus replied, placing the book aside, "is a work of fiction."

Hermione smirked. "Keep telling yourself that. A boy can get rather far with doggerel."

"Is that so?" Severus pulled Hermione to her feet. "Roses are red—"

"Oh, honestly!"

Severus closed the distance between them. "Violets are blue."

Hermione rolled her eyes; Severus rolled his hips into hers.

"I've got a stiffy, and. It's. For. You."