When Lilly popped in at seven sharp to inform them that Narcissa awaited their company for dinner, Hermione blushed furiously. Her lips were no doubt swollen from Draco’s attention, her hair long since tangled by Draco’s grip, and her clothing askew from her perch on his lap. She stood on shaky legs and noted the persistent pulse of arousal in her centre. She winced as she shifted and her knickers slid wetly against her. 