His lips never left Hermione’s as they reappeared on the bed with a crack. It occurred to him she was still in Astoria’s dressing gown. He vanished it as he guided her onto the pillows, easing his weight on top of her. He breathed in the scent of her - the familiar lavender and vanilla, and he felt their magic crackle and dance across his skin, intertwining as their bodies did.  Her hands were in his hair and her kisses became increasingly needy and insistent. 