It was what she could give him to reassure him that she was his if he wanted, that nothing she was doing meant she felt anything for anyone else even if that someone else was his duplicate. The kiss went on for so long, Hermione felt him growing hard against her hip where he pressed into her, and she found herself rocking forward to relieve him even just a little. His hands were everywhere now, the base of her skull, fingers tangling in her hair, tugging, groaning into her mouth in something that tasted of desperation.