"Maybe we should go upstairs," Hermione said, grasping at his hand, and Draco nodded, eyes glued to hers, feeling dazed and half-lost and more than a little drunk. Maybe that would take his mind off everything for a little while; there was nothing quite like losing himself in her, and it was still all so new that Draco felt like he could spend all day shagging Hermione, and never, ever want to stop. Her legs and the curve of her luscious arse, and the firm warmth of her tits, and the way she moaned and arched under him, and whimpered his name. He blinked and cleared his throat.