She ran her fingers over her lips, thinking quickly. If they'd sent a house-elf, it had to be because they didn't think an Order member could safely enter the Manor using one of their new Portkeys. The Portkeys were only able to penetrate Edinburgh's wards.

She let her mind run for several minutes before looking back up at him. He was watching her, his eyes traveling the lines of her robe, tracing her wet curls. He looked dead on his feet, but his gaze was glued to her.

"Did they ask where you went last night?"

He blinked and shook his head. "Father told them that I was hit by an unknown curse, and that he had to send me home for treatment."

Nodding absently, she let her mind drift to what he'd actually been doing when he'd come home last night. Specifically, what he'd been doing to her.

A blush rose to her cheeks at the memory of his breath between her thighs — the slide of their bodies together, and the press of his face into her hair.

She bit her lip and glanced at him. His eyes were focused on the modest triangle of skin visible at her collarbones, where the robe closed. His gaze drifted upward, pausing on the lip pulled between her teeth.

She swallowed. "About last night…"

His eyes jerked to hers, wide and guilty. She opened her mouth to continue, but he was spinning on his heel and striding to the window.

"Don't worry, Granger." His voice was flat and distant. "It won't happen again."

Her chest tightened. "That's not what I—"

"There were a lot of... emotions involved. I should have had more self-control."

"Draco, I don't regret it."

She heard his breath catch across the room.

Last night, they hadn't known if they'd live to see the morning. But as he turned to face her, sunlight catching on his hair just as it used to in Fifth Year Transfiguration, she was certain she'd do it again. They might be running on borrowed time, but she'd take these moments with him while she still could. She'd take them, because without them her shelves might crumble and bury her in grief.

Something writhed inside of her, begging for him to release it again. She crossed the room and stepped into him, rising on her toes to press her mouth to his. His arms rose to her elbows — soft, tentative — as his lips parted for her. She brushed her tongue inside his mouth, and a small sound escaped from his throat.

Pulling away from him, she met his glassy gaze and reached for the tie on her robe. The moment the knot loosened, he pushed her back against the wall, kissing her deeply and running his hands over her stomach and hips. She sighed and threw her arms over his shoulders.

The quick slide of his palms over her body awoke every memory of last night, and her skin caught fire as his hands rounded her hips and dipped down to squeeze her backside. She gasped into his mouth, and he moved to kiss her neck. He pressed his hips forward, pinning her to the wall, and she could feel the outline of him, growing harder.