Hermione/Draco
It’s quiet in the morning. Draco’s leg is wrapped over hers until he feels her tiny frame start to move against him.
She finds a shirt and pads quietly to the loo. She’s tacit, they save their talking for after tea. They speak in other ways.
She sits on the edge of the bed bringing his hand up to her heart. He can reach into her (his) open shirt and palm her breast. His thumb across her nipple sends a shiver up her skin.
He pulls her back under the covers. She lets him touch her any way he likes. He starts at her feet and follows a trial of freckles to her lips.
He chases forgiveness with every kiss, every sigh, every moan. When she whispers his name it sounds like absolution.
He intertwines their fingers and it’s the closest thing to peace he’s ever known.