Draco pushed the trapdoor open quietly and found the dining room empty, thank Merlin. Draco didn’t think fighting with Weasley would have endeared him to any of the Order. In hindsight, it had been a rather stupid thing to do. Except Hermione might not have kissed him if he hadn’t done it, so... He eased the door shut again and winced as his knuckles ached, hoping the kitchen would have something cold to wrap around them. Draco had gotten in a few good blows to Weasley’s face and head when Weasley tackled him to the floor, but unfortunately the other boy’s skull was as thick and hard as a rock. Draco suspected he’d hurt himself more than the redhead. He didn’t care in the slightest right now, still grinning stupidly as he remembered with vivid clarity Hermione in his arms, her body crushed to his, his hand kneading her luscious arse.