Colors
“Look, just for you. A red cord, for the only Gryffindor I can stand. Alert the papers,” Draco said drily.
“Nope, not shocking enough. You’re still wearing all black. You need to also be wearing oh, orange and purple,” smirked Hermione.
Draco made a face. “Then I’ll just look like the Weasel’s face when he found out we were dating.”
“What would it take to get you out of the house in orange and purple?”
“There’s nothing you could possibly say or do.” Draco asserted with conviction.
“What if…I let you elongate that red cord and use it on *my* wrists? Hmm? Make use of that four-poster bed of yours?” Hermione gave him her most fetching eye flutter.
“Merlin, you’ll be the death of my sartorial credibility, witch!” He swept her up in his arms with a cursory grumble, but secretly, he thought he was still getting the better end of the deal.