Draco cleared the space between them in two strides. When he spoke, his voice was low and husky, not quite The Wolf but perhaps a different Draco than the one she was used to. "The only thing I want to do, Hermione, is bury myself in you. Over and over again, until you can’t think of anything but me and how good I make you feel. I want to make you forget your own name. I want you panting and desperate for me." His hands gripped her waist and he’d leant down so his breath warmed her neck as he spoke. He pulled away abruptly and she missed the warmth of him. "But I don’t even know if that’s me, or The Wolf talking, and it’s definitely not what you want so it doesn’t matter. That’s why I stay away."