"Yeah. They know." He corrects himself. "Or rather, they know that I've been keeping your presence a secret. They don't know anything else." Hermione frowns at him. What difference does that make? She asks him that, and he worries at his sore lip – nibbling it and wincing, then probing over it carefully with his tongue – before he finally answers. "They don't know why I kept you to myself – except that Theo knows I went down to the dungeons to f-fuck you," he says with reluctance, his gaze sliding away from hers and a pink flush rising on his cheeks. Hermione stares at him, eyes going wide and round.