A stilted silence amongst the boys. Hermione could only hear the thump of the music.

Viktor's brow creased. "That is… I vould appreciate the chance to visit vith her privately."

"That's out of the question," Draco drawled.

She pinched the skin of his neck. She needed to speak to Viktor.

He didn't flinch.

"Ah. I see I am being impolite." Viktor managed an unsettled smile. "Of course if there is the question of price—"

Pucey leaned into Viktor's ear and loudly whispered, "He's not one to share, Krum." Flint snorted, then quickly stared into his drink.

"You let Theo use her as a Lap Warmer," Montague piped in. "Surely Viktor Krum—"

"I lost her in a bet. Fair and square." Draco's eyes were hard as he sipped his Firewhisky.

"I am happy to bet my gold for a smaller prize. I vould very much like it," he said, with another intent look at her, "to have Herm-own-ninny as a Lap Varmer."

There was a tingling certainty in her veins. This was it. He'd been sent by the Order, and he needed to speak to her. Her mouth was dry as she ran her fingers into Draco's hair, giving a gentle but urgent tug—

"I'm not looking to Share tonight. You'll have to manage with one of the Carrow Girls."

Hermione inhaled sharply. Draco refused to meet her eyes, his gaze intent on Viktor. Blaise shifted next to them.

"Ah." Viktor's eyes were narrowed as she turned to look at him, her pulse thrumming in her ears. "I forget Malfoy is the only child, yes? He does not let others play with his toys." The boys laughed. Hermione tugged on Draco's hair again, trying to communicate with him.

"Surely a famous Quidditch player like yourself could have any girl in the room." Draco brought his glass to his lips. "Some of these whores might even beg the Carrows for a chance at Viktor Krum."

The Slytherins were silent, watching the match.

Viktor smiled at Draco, and his teeth gleamed white. "Yes, perhaps I vould not need to buy a girl for company. I vonder if I could say the same for you." There was a tense breath. Draco's thumb tapped his glass. "Perhaps ve should let Hermione choose—"

"You'll excuse us"—Draco stood swiftly, putting her on her feet—"but listening to you butcher your consonants has given me a headache."

Her elbow was grabbed, her feet forced to move.

"Come on, Draco! Stay!" Pucey called out behind them.

Draco had dragged her across the length of the room before her brain caught up and she realized they were headed for the fireplaces.

"Wait!" she hissed.

His jaw was clenched, and his grip on her tight.

"Draco—"

He tugged her roughly into his side and leaned in to whisper in her ear, "If you fight me in public, I will have to discipline you in public."

"But I need to—!"

He snarled and jerked her forward through the green fire and into his bedroom. She stared at the fireplace in shock, reeling from the speed at which they had flown through the Lounge and into the flames.