Fifteen minutes of this. Hermione took a deep breath. This is what they'd been practicing for, right?

She turned back towards Draco's neck, and he leaned in as if she was going to whisper to him again. Her lips brushed softly over his pulse, and she felt his body tense before his muscles relaxed. The hand on her waist felt as heavy as lead.

Her hand came up to rest on his chest to steady herself, and she began to kiss his neck as she usually did during their practice sessions. She could feel his heartbeat pounding beneath her fingertips as she pressed soft kisses to his neck and jaw. Her tongue flicked out to taste him and she felt his ribcage contract. His hand shifted to her hip as she leaned closer, and he adjusted her in his lap, pushing her off a bit.

She pulled back to question him, but he was staring into his full glass of scotch. A quick look around confirmed that no one was watching them. Flint was focused on Penelope, kissing her slowly as he pressed their hips together. Montague had leaned his girl back across the arm of the couch and was mouthing at her neck. Theo had disappeared into a private booth.

In fact, Draco seemed to be the only male in the room not touching or kissing his Lot. Hermione frowned. She'd been so focused on getting Draco comfortable around her, she'd forgotten that owners usually were the ones to initiate contact. She needed to push him more next week.

A shadow crossed over them, and Hermione looked up to see Cho Chang smiling down demurely.

"Master Malfoy," she said, her voice low and velvety. "Where do you want me?"

Hermione blinked, feeling blood rush to her ears.

"We have a private booth," he said.

Draco shifted them to standing, steadying her on her heels with a hand on her waist. It brought her face to face with Cho. Her dark eyes twinkled as they ran over Hermione's face and hair.

"She's stunning, Master Malfoy," Cho said, like she was appraising a piece of art. "You dress her so beautifully."

Hermione felt her face heat. Cho's purr was odd, so different from the shy, tomboyish girl who used to outfly Harry on the Quidditch pitch with a ringing laugh. The girl who struggled not to cry all of Hermione's fifth year over the loss of Cedric.

Draco muttered a "thanks" and wrapped one arm around Hermione's waist, taking Cho's hand in the other. He led them around the corner, past the dancing girls and drinking men and couples on couches, to the last private booth on the left wall. They would have plenty of privacy in the corner, but this also meant every eye was on the three of them as they passed.

They had a plan. Hermione would suggest some alone time with Cho so they could "prepare" for him, Draco would agree, and he'd return two minutes later with an emergency that would bring an end to their sordid threeway.