He finished his yawn, ending in an indulgent stretch. "No."

"Draco, you know as well as I do that we're moving far too slowly. At this rate…" She shook her head. "I know he knows something. I can feel it—"

"What do you want to know?" he said lazily, breaking off a corner of a biscuit. "I'll ask."

"And why would he tell you anything? You're terrible to him."

He scowled. "I take it you still think you can seduce the information out of him?"

She sighed heavily. "I think he needs flattery. A chance to brag. He sees you as a rival, and there's no way he'll—"

Draco abruptly stood, tossing his parchment on the cushion. "It's far too early in the morning for you to be psychoanalyzing my friendships, Granger—"

"It's half-past ten!"

"And how late did you keep me up last night?"

"Tomorrow night at Edinburgh is the perfect opportunity. Flint won't be there. I just need five minutes—"

He cracked his neck and took a few steps away. "I'm not going to leave you alone in a booth with him—"

"I'm not asking you to!" She scrambled to her feet. "What about a Trade for the Lounge." It was a term she'd heard thrown around once or twice. By now she could guess what it meant. "Just the couches, not the booths."

Draco glared at her.

"Hear me out," she said, approaching him carefully. "Theo has just taken the Mark. He's working closely with his father and loves bragging about it to anyone who will listen. I think I could easily sway conversation toward the tattoos."

"You really don't think he'd see through you?"

Hermione lifted a brow. "With a bit of alcohol? No. Besides, I think he's been lacking an opportunity to talk about himself. For years, possibly."

"How kind of you to take an interest in him." He sneered and dragged a hand over his face. "I cannot just make you available for Trades and Shares. Word would spread—"

"What about a one-time bet?" She took another step closer. "Perhaps another card game? You could wager a Trade for the Lounge."

Draco rolled his eyes. "And you think Theo will win?"

"He doesn't have to. You just need to lose." She watched him frown and let his eyes drift out the window, as if searching for more reasons to say no. An idea sparked, and her heart quickened as she closed the distance between them. "You're clearly the best card player there. I have no doubt you can twist the game however you see fit."

His eyes flickered down at her.

"I saw it the last time you played cards with them," she hummed, sliding her hands around his neck. "Did you play cards a lot in the dormitories?"

"A bit, yeah." His throat bobbed.

"You probably won a lot of bets." Her lips tilted up to his jaw, and his arms slid around her waist. "What was the best hand you ever played?"