She cast her eyes down, ready to play her part.

"Not your lady," Draco snapped, part warning, part playful edge to his voice.

"Oh, Love," Flint crooned, "did Draco whomp you good and proper after last week? Never one to share, our boy. Why don't you bend over my lap so I can kiss it better?"

The boys laughed as Draco took his seat, his jaw barely tensing before it loosened in a grin. More greetings and conversation as she assumed her position in front of the window. She took an inventory of the girls around the table, starting at her right: several Carrow Girls who usually rotated around Higgs, Derrick, and Warrington; Susan behind Goyle; and Penelope behind Flint. But Mortensen was absent from her place behind Pucey's chair, replaced with a Carrow Girl.

She cataloged the information and moved on before losing her breath at the sight of the Italian Minister's niece standing behind Zabini's chair. Giuliana Bravieri looked so small. Her eyes staring down at her shoes, her wrists thin and crossed submissively in front of her stomach. Hermione's heart ached, bile rising in her throat at the reminder of what she'd been through, followed by sharp anger. So much for her "not appearing anytime soon." But then, perhaps Draco hadn't known she would be here tonight.

Ten girls stepped forward, pouring wine into crystal glasses, and before she could return to the wall, Draco's arm was around her waist, guiding her to his lap. Other than Zabini lifting a theatrical brow at them, no one else said a word about it. Hermione was quite pleased with their "practicing" paying off, but she did have a moment of guilt for the extra minutes Susan had to spend against Goyle's chest when he quickly followed Draco's lead.

She crossed her legs in her little slip, tilting her knees toward Draco's waist. His left arm slipped over her hip, holding her to him instead of clenching his fingers tight around the arm of the chair. When she shifted in his lap, nuzzling into his neck and letting her fingers play with the hair on the back of his head, he didn't flinch. She felt giddy with success. Their time together had paid off, just like she'd predicted.

He jostled her when he laughed at something Zabini said, and she turned to the source, finding the Italian girl staring at her with deep brown eyes. She was sitting gingerly in Zabini's lap, as though he wasn't nearly as comfortably intimate with her as he'd been with the others. Hermione felt examined, flayed open by her gaze. The girl quickly turned her eyes back to the tablecloth, a small smile pulling at her full lips, almost as if she'd been caught. Hermione swallowed and pushed her concerns for the young girl aside, focusing on what information she could gather.

Nothing noteworthy caught her ear in the table's conversation after the first half hour. But then Theo's voice rang out above the others.