Hermione was resting from the pleasurable ache between her legs, propped up against Draco as he read to her again that night. She had her head on his chest where she could also feel the vibrations from his voice as he read what appeared to be the last story from the fairy tale book Dumbledore had given her. It had been a little over a week ago she had stumbled upon it again among her many other research books. After flipping through it a few times she realised she had never begun to read it and when Draco proclaimed he knew every story in the book, she challenged him to just tell her the stories. Of course, then his memory suddenly failed him and they had reached a compromise for him to read out loud to her. One story a night. Except for the nights, his voice would lull her to sleep, and he never finished even one small fairy tale.