Silence. And then: "You're a horrible liar, Granger."

"Fine," she fumed. "Because we kissed. Because we both had a terrible lapse in judgment and we kissed. But I'm trusting that we can both just buck up and behave like adults about this!"

He lifted a brow at her. "Adults?"

"Yes." She huffed and curled her fingers into fists. "Just because we had a 'moment' doesn't mean we should throw away all our hard work."

His lips pressed together. "If you really think…"

"Wonderful. I'll see you at seven tomorrow."

His mouth moved wordlessly before she rushed ahead of him, practically bolting up the staircase. She didn't turn around, but she could feel him glowering at her back the whole way.

~*~

The small sitting room in the eastern wing had a variety of chairs and couches. The elves had conjured a small table at Hermione's request so they could simulate a dinner at Edinburgh as closely as possible.

On Monday evening, he sat in their usual chair and picked at his dinner while she grilled him on Italy. He'd spent the entire time in Rome, protecting the new minister.

"Like a bodyguard?" she asked.

"I guess you could say that." He cut into his steak, one arm around her waist. "More of a babysitter, really. Making sure Romano is following the instructions the Dark Lord set for him."

"What kind of instructions," she said, tearing her eyes away from the way his lips closed around his fork.

"Magical education reform. A Muggle-born registration."

She nodded, having expected both. She waited for him to be almost done with his dinner before she said, "I need a favor."

His jaw froze, mid-chew. He lifted a brow and shook his head at his plate with a frustrated sigh. "Go right ahead, Granger."

"I need your help getting time alone with Theo."

He dropped his utensils, turning to look at her. "Why?"

"His father designed the tattoos, didn't he?"

He glanced quickly down to his initials on her arm. "Yes—"

"Maybe he helped his father. Or maybe he knows something—"

"And how in Merlin's name are you going to find out? Ask him nicely?"

"Not exactly." Hermione cleared her throat, suddenly feeling hot all over. "I thought I might be able to flatter him a bit — cozy up to him. Maybe wear something he'd find appealing. Nothing serious, of course. You could break it up like we did with Cho."

Draco's barking laugh jostled her. She stared at him wide-eyed, feeling mortification creep up her neck as his chest rumbled.

"What's so funny?" she demanded.

"As much as I would love to see you try, Granger," he said, still smirking, "your charms won't work on him."

"And why not?" The tips of her ears were burning. "I wore a tight red dress last time, and my 'charms' seemed to work on someone we both know."

His smile immediately died. His ribs were stiff and unmoving against hers.

She scoffed and turned her face away, grabbing her wine glass.