His nostrils flared — but then he blinked, and the eyes that opened back at her were a cool grey. He jerked a nod.

Grumbling, she moved closer, and he steadied her on his lap, holding her still while he sat stiffly. Slowly, gently, she let her fingers trail over his collar as she kissed at his neck. Tracing a path through the opened top of his collar, she paused at his ear before cautiously running her teeth over his earlobe.

He hissed and tried to push her back again. And her blood erupted in anger.

"Stop acting like I repulse you—"

"You bloody witch—"

"—so stiff and uncomfortable, it's a miracle the entire room hasn't noticed! And if you keep pushing me, I'm going to fall off!"

She shifted onto his lap, pulling herself tight to his body, sitting sideways across his groin. And she felt it at the same time Draco groaned.

He had an erection.

Hermione's eyes popped wide, her face still buried in his neck. His fingers were digging into her hips, holding her very still.

Her heart started racing, and the heat in her body boiled. Her fingers were squeezing his shoulders before she could stop them. She begged herself to use her brain.

He was experiencing attraction of a…sexual nature. But she didn't have on Pansy's red dress or knickers. She was bare-faced and wild-haired, in just a jumper and denims.

And suddenly she remembered every other time he'd pushed her off his lap — even the first time she'd kissed his neck — weeks ago.

Mouth open, she pulled back to look at his face.

His eyes were pressed closed, lips tight, breathing quickly through his nose. The blush on his neck had spread to his cheeks.

Snapping open, his eyes locked on hers. Heated greys and bottomless pupils.

"Satisfied, Granger?" he hissed. His fingers dug into her hips, pulling her tight against his crotch. "That makes one of us."

He swiftly removed her from his lap, placed her on her feet, and was out the door before Hermione could take a breath deep enough to clear her head.

~*~

She laid in bed that night, staring up at her canopy with wide eyes. It was after midnight, and her mind was still racing.

Perhaps Draco Malfoy was just very sensitive about his neck. Or he had instant erections when his neck was kissed.

Or maybe he was remembering their kiss as well. Maybe he couldn't stop imagining the girl with the red lips in the red dress—

But no. He was shoving her off his lap well before she'd ever put on those knickers.

Hermione huffed and rolled to her side. She thought of his eyes on her legs whenever they had left for Edinburgh. Even months ago, on the night he'd taken her to Hogwarts to stand before Voldemort, she'd been in a thin, short slip, and his eyes had dropped.

A warmth in her chest blossomed. Perhaps he did find her attractive, even though he claimed he'd "forgotten himself" that night. Something deep inside her, hidden away for years, preened. Like a flower feeling sunlight again after a frozen winter.