"You have no right to – to... Ugh!" Hermione gave up her attempts to regain the bottle and slumped back in her chair, rubbing her hands over her face. She looked so small and so sad, and Draco just wanted to make things better. Wipe away the weary disillusionment in the alcohol fumes surrounding Hermione by kissing her, making her forget everything but his mouth hot on hers. His skin on her skin. Heat and sweat and slick and breathlessness. But he couldn’t, for so many different reasons – one being that Draco wasn’t sure he would be physically able to carry out the act after the bloody cold bottle of vodka had finished trying to turn him into a block of ice.