Draco conjures a mattress under them, and lies beside her, a hand resting possessively on her hip. It’s taking conscious effort to stay conscious, and even holding her eyes open feels too difficult. She closes them, lets herself feel Theo at her back, Draco’s hand trailing up her side, and Blaise between her thighs, his fingers on her face. She’s twitching with aftershocks, but her mind is finally silent. It doesn’t leave, doesn’t drift away, but is anchored here by the boys around her, guiding her through the comedown.