Her lips trembled against his and her toes curled, and she whimpered as his mouth moved velvety and tantalising on hers, her hands seeking beneath his shirt, sliding over the smooth, warm skin of his back. There was something hanging in the air between them, something fragile and tenderly greedy. She knew she was trying to close over the fresh wounds Pansy had opened, mend them with her lips and tongue and searching hands, and she thought Draco was trying to do the same. Reassure each other that it hadn't damaged anything irreparably; that they loved each other and years-old words weren't going to taint that, no matter how hurtful they'd been.