Good girl
Harry never outgrew his tendency to act before thinking, nor his habit of asking for forgiveness after the fact rather than permission beforehand. Years of sneaking around under his invisibility cloak inflated his sense of entitlement to tread wherever and whenever he pleased, and that included the home of a certain Draco and Hermione Granger in the recently renovated Malfoy Manor.
You see, he really had intended the excursion to be a short one. He was simply there to retrieve his watch, which he had removed the night prior at Hermione’s birthday celebration before another game of Gobstones, promptly forgetting about it several drinks later after which he was hauled home nearly unconscious by his irate wife.
Noiselessly treading down the hallway from the Floo and nearly passing by the library, he heard a loud thump and moan inside its sealed doors.
“Mmmmmffff, yes….Just. Like. That.” Malfoy’s exultation stabbed him right between the shoulder blades, freezing Harry’s movements.
Oh, Godric. Were they doing what he thought they were doing?
The far-too-familiar giggle of his best friend preceded another masculine groan. In a sultry tone Harry wished to never hear again, she asked, “Do you like that?”
“I doooo…ahhhh, fuck, you’re such a good girl for me…”
More thumping—were they rutting against an unsteady desk?—ensued, and Harry backed away in horror. He didn’t need his watch. He could just retrieve it later after sending an owl, or perhaps he could just get Hermione to return it to him elsewhere.
Yes, that sounded like a better idea.
***
“Do you think he learned his lesson?” Draco dropped his head back onto Hermione’s chest where she stood behind him, kneading his shoulders. He hissed as she dug into another knot, thumping his fist down onto the oak tabletop. “Ffffffffffuhhh, that hurts so good.”
“One can only hope,” she murmured, leaning down to nibble softly along his ear, never stopping her ministrations.
“I don’t see why we can’t just restrict Floo access and adjust our wards.”
“We could, but where would be the fun in that?”
“Hmph. Who knew Hermione Granger had such a mean streak?”
“If you think I’m always good, you obviously weren’t paying attention in school.” She punctuated her statement with a swift yank to his chair, sliding it back from the table before straddling him. “Now, I suggest we follow through on our roleplay.”
Draco matched her Cheshire grin with his own. Grabbing her thighs firmly, he stood and plopped her onto the table, shoving books and parchment aside. “As you wish, witch.”
The table was, in fact, perfectly stable.