"I'm sorry. I have to get hold of my contact in the Order, but I haven't been able to get away to leave a message at the drop point yet. My master's been watching me, lately. I think he knows that I was down here, the other day." Malfoy speaks soft and quick. "Hang on, I have to – have to pretend. But I won't..." His hips start to thrust into hers, and she jerks, half-startled, her hands clutching onto his shoulders. His crotch rubs again and again into hers, in rhythmic little movements, and it feels good and so, so bad. Disgusts crawls up and down Hermione's spine, and makes her stomach lurch sickly. "Not to mention, there are a lot of people here who dislike me because of the Dark Lord's favouritism, and would love to fuck me up. So...I can't come down here a lot, in case he gets suspicious, or someone like Theo figures out what's going on and tattles to him."