It helped that it was apparent her own position would never be jeopardised by his impending nuptials. Draco, to put it vulgarly, could not get enough of her; not content to limit himself to the night-time hours, he frequently sought her out in the daytime too, flipping her skirts up and screwing her over her desk, or against a bookshelf, or on the sofa. More than once, he would begin nibbling at her neck in front of his parents or the servants, forcing Hermione to transfer them rapidly to the nearest private space. She rapidly acquired the subtle emanation of languidness that only a constantly well-fucked woman could exude. Narcissa frequently commented that she had never seen her son so smitten, and even Lucius regarded her with a faint stirring of interest in his cold grey eyes.