Draco pinned her against the wall and kissed her before she could say anything else. It was much softer than the last time. Hermione’s stomach flipped, and she felt drunk from the kiss, as she kissed him back. His hands cupped her jaw and hip, sending heat through her body. She carefully slid her hand through his hair, a part of her afraid that it was just a dream. It wasn’t a passion-ridden kiss, there was something that felt like home about Draco. His tongue made its way into her mouth, gentle but persistent, as his grip tightened on her hips. Hermione wrapped her hands around his neck, standing on the tip of her toes. She wanted to be as close to him as she could, to be one whole. To never let go, to never stop. One of her hands slid down to the top of his shirt, trying to unbutton it.