A pop! from behind them made her jolt. And a high-pitched, bored voice said, "Miss wants scones?"

Hermione slapped a hand over her mouth. Draco froze, his hand still on her breast and his lips hovering above her chest.

They tilted their heads to find Remmy glaring at them.

Hermione's thoughts were empty except for mortification.

"No," Draco said, point-blank.

Remmy pouted her little lips together, narrowed her eyes, and said, "Remmy maybe brings scones. For later."

"That won't be—"

Remmy disappeared with a crack!

Hermione could breathe again, and let out a high-pitched, nervous laugh. But Draco didn't join in. He pulled himself back, still panting, his pupils black and intent. Her stomach barely had a moment to flutter before he grabbed her wrist and dragged her to her feet to follow him. He tugged her up to the landing, twisting between the stacks and weaving them to a small alcove with a window seat overlooking the pond. She had half a second to enjoy the view before he pressed her against the shelves and devoured her again.

He muffled her squeak of surprise, his fingers on her waist and his body flush against hers. She grabbed his elbows as he kissed her slowly, deep and seductive kisses that spun her mind in circles. The hands at her waist were under her shirt, rubbing her sides and chastely brushing thumbs over her hipbones. She ran her hands down his elbows, over his wrists, and to his hands, giving him permission to touch more of her.

His knee pressed forward, slipping between her thighs. And the most embarrassing moan poured from her throat into his mouth. Before she could pull away, he angled her head back and kissed her like she was the answer to his thirst.

His thigh connected to her core just as his hand reached her bra. Her hips rolled forward and he groaned, pressing his hardening length against her hip. His fingers tightened in her hair, and his thumb rolled her nipple, squeezing her and flicking at her and slipping the lace down so he could feel her—

A pop! from right next to them. Hermione jerked.

"Remmy brought the scones."

Draco's body — which had been deliciously pliant against her — tensed. A frustrated sigh blew across her face.

"I told you we didn't want any."

"Remmy insists. Remmy brings anything else?"

"No."

There was a pause. Hermione turned her face to the right, seeing the round, older elf standing there with her hands on her hips.

"Remmy asks again later." And she disappeared.

Hermione stared at the spot Remmy had stood until Draco's fingers curled against her skin. She jumped, pulling back, her mind crashing back into its skull.

"Your mother has her spies out. We should… we shouldn't be…" she stammered.

"My father's spies, more like it."

Draco looked down on her. His eyes were bright — an excited grey instead of the possessed black pupils from the incident last week — and they roved over her features, skating across her jaw, curving across her cheeks, dancing with her own eyes.