"The fuck was that?"

Her eyes snapped up to find Draco scowling at her, apparently recovered.

Hermione opened her mouth. Then closed it. "She was… very friendly," she finally landed on.

As she moved to join him in the main room, he grabbed her elbow and spun them around. "Any other friends you'd like to make tonight, Granger?" he sneered.

And instead of leading to the couches in the Lounge, he dragged her straight to the fireplaces, calling out for Malfoy Manor and sweeping them back home.

Once they were in the entry hall, he dropped her arm and stomped toward the stairs. Hermione blinked after him for a moment before her anger found her.

"Why did we leave?" she demanded. "We weren't finished!"

"I think you had enough fun for one night," he hissed, starting to climb.

Her mouth fell open at his retreating back. "You're angry that I kissed Flint? You think that was fun for me?"

He spun back, several stairs higher than her. "I'm angry that you made me look weak."

She gaped at him. "Are you joking? Flint only made that bet because you refused to kiss me! You made us both look like idiots!"

His jaw snapped shut. Starting to ascend again, he bit out, "Kissing is too intimate."

Her temper boiled, bubbling over. Storming after him up the steps, she hissed, "Too intimate? Everyone else was kissing! I'm sure you kissed Pansy last week, so don't even—"

"I didn't," he spat back, half a staircase above her. "Stop talking out of your arse, Granger—"

"Oh, but you let her mouth on other places?" she shouted over him. "My mouth?!" Her voice echoed in the hall. She reached the second-floor landing just as he started up the stairs to the third floor.

"So tonight was revenge, then?" He laughed humorlessly. "You're going to go around snogging as many people as possible to get back at me?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Hermione snapped. "The girl in the bathroom was—" She didn't know if she should mention the way she'd fiddled with her collar. "Strange," she finished, "but Flint was a calculated move. He had information about Ron—"

"Oh yes," he snarled, spinning back to her, his face pink. "Ron." He dropped two steps, meeting her in the middle of the staircase. "I do wonder what your boyfriend would have to say about your method of information gathering, Granger."

She glowered at him, craning her neck up to meet his eyes. "My boy— my boyfriend?"

"Yes," he hissed. "What if your precious Weasley knew that you dropped into any lap offering the smallest crumb of information—"

"You — utter arse!" she exploded. "I wouldn't have to kiss your disgusting friends if you would just tell me what the fuck is going on!"

His jaw clenched, and he spun around to storm up the rest of the staircase.

"I answer every bloody question you ask me, Granger—"

"Merlin forbid you offer anything else!" She sprinted after him in her heels. "Like any kind of game plan for these evenings. Or having the decency to tell me about your stupid No Kissing Rule!"