Avoiding her was just another way to punish himself. And ruin her sleep in the process.

She threw the covers off in a huff and sprang out of bed, marching across her room and through the passageway into Draco's.

He was sitting up in bed, reading a book. His mouth fell open when she stomped inside. Without a word, she threw back his comforter, crawled over him to snatch his wand and turn off the light, and plopped back on her side of the bed, tugging the sheets up. There was a long stretch of silence before she heard him close his book with a sigh, and felt him curl up against her in the darkness.

Waking with the dawn, she found her irritation had vanished. The sound of quiet breathing filled the room, and she turned over carefully. She spent the next hour memorizing Draco as he slept, studying him in ways she'd never been able to before.

When he stirred just before seven, she ran her fingers up and down his bare chest until his eyes fluttered open. As his gaze focused on her, a wariness flickered in the grey.

Hermione bit her lip, brushing his hair from his face. "Let's not talk about your father," she whispered.

His ribs stopped expanding for a moment.

"You're helping me." She propped up on her elbow, tracing his scars. "That's all that matters."

Hermione waited. And then— the slightest dip of his chin.

His pupils darkened as her fingertips dipped lower, cementing her morning plans. She moved over him, kissing him and reaching for his morning erection, and he flipped her on her back before she could draw breath. He sucked at her neck, her breasts, her thighs until she was begging him to end her agony. She came twice on his tongue. And then he pressed inside of her, panting into her neck and nipping his teeth across her throat with heady words of praise as she lay boneless under him.

~*~

She waited listlessly for two days, tearing open the Prophet and Ghost, searching for news. Both gave her little valuable information, though Gumley at least castigated President Harrison for his continued silence. On Wednesday, she and Draco spent most of the day brainstorming ways to sneak into Hogwarts, with little agreement. On Thursday, she was in her tub, meditating.

When her skin had pruned and her hair was half-dry, there was a familiar knock on her bathroom door.

"Come in."

Draco pushed the door open and leaned on the frame, a weary expression on his face.

The waters in her mind rippled, and she sat up straight. "News?"

He shook his head. "The post, actually."

Her eyes fell to the envelope in his hand. The opened wax seal was pressed with a black Dark Mark. "What is it?"

Draco tugged the card out of the envelope and stepped to the edge of the tub, holding it out so she could read it.

The Dark Lord requests your presence at a celebration honoring