"I think maybe I drank too much," Hermione mumbled, taking her hand away from Draco's scarred injury and rubbing at her eyes and yawning, and he twisted so they faced each other, holding her waist to help steady her on her feet. She swayed into him, breasts crushing warm and firm against him, forehead dropping onto his chest, her hands clutching at his sides and fisting handfuls of his shirt. Her breath was hot through the thin cotton and one of her hands slid up, pressing flat against his chest as she breathed, hot and steady.