"Of course," Draco says after a long pause. He releases Astoria, sliding his hand—palm side up—beneath Hermione’s, biting the inside of his cheek at the thrum of power that snakes around his wrist, surging up his arm with the minimal touch of skin on skin. Tightening his fingers around Hermione’s, he traces his thumb over the prongs encasing the large diamond on her wedding ring, bowing low to ghost his lips over the back of her hand. "Madam Minister."