It's not a hardship to get a little carried away, given all that. She manages to kiss his smug smile into submission by dint of kissing it over and over until he's focusing more on responding than on being smug.

And then the night goes on. Whatever wine they had at the work party has ceased to make her dizzy, so if she gets breathless or dizzy at all, it's his doing.

Him and that mouth of his.

The night stretches in a haze of discovery, curiosity, and lust. By the time she falls asleep, she's tangled both in his sheets and in his arms.

Sunrise waked her, slipping through the window, and finds her playing big spoon to Draco Malfoy, of all things. She buries her face against the nape of his neck, but it doesn't make sleep return. An invasive thought hits her, going back to last night: the books.

So ten minutes later, she's crept out of the bedroom to the living area, bare naked and crouched by one tower of books, browsing titles one by one.