They were still against the wall except Hermione was in nothing but her underwear and bra now, and Draco in his unbuttoned jeans, his face buried against the crook of her neck, his breath hot on her skin, his hand down her underwear. Hermione thought dazedly as Draco's fingers slid over her sensitive, swollen flesh and swirled over her clit, dipped into her pussy and sent wrenching spasms of want through it, that if she had known that having sex with Draco was like this, she would have started doing it a long time ago, back at school. His arrogant, nasty bigotry would have been worth putting up with for this.