There were more eyes on them than before—Hermione felt the intensity of these stares like a brand on her skin, boring into her bare back. Draco shifted a little so they were better accommodated in the large throne. His hands gripped her hips and she looped her arms around his neck, feeling oddly like a ballerina in that position, arching into him. Draco’s gaze threatened to melt her. Hermione was half-tempted to tease him, work him up to the edge and leave, but knew that wouldn’t fly this time.