Draco made a soft, hungry sound and Hermione whimpered in return as the sound sent quivers through her every nerve and muscle, made her melt against him. His lips were warm and eager as they parted against hers, and his tongue tasted faintly like blood as it teased the tip of her own, the delicate flicks sending thrills of arousal twisting through her, and she moaned into his mouth, his arm holding her up as she swayed in his grip. Her knees trembled and her blood throbbed like want and need, and she felt sudden, slick wetness as lust made her flesh twitch and her breath judder, her belly cramp. Draco smelt like sweat and soap, and he needed to shave, and...oh god, his teeth worried at her lower lip, tongue swiping over it and eliciting another shivering moan muffled against his urgent mouth.