With her legs trembling and Malfoy licking into her mouth and drawing out moans and whimpers from her, Hermione shakes a mitten off so it dangles by the cord from her wrist, and worms her hand beneath his layers of clothing. She sighs in bliss and closes her teeth gentle over his plump bottom lip when her fingers find the smooth, hot skin of his abdomen, and her palm flattens to it. She kisses him eager and greedy, and her hand searches over his concave stomach and up to his chest, brushing across a pebbled nipple and feeling him mmff into her mouth in response. It's intoxicating. The feel of him like this, all fear and memory gone, as if lost beneath the pristine blanket of snow. All she knows is how good he feels, and how her clit is aching and her body needy.