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Summary
Ron's not a fan of how close all of the Hogwarts students have become with the Slytherins since the war. He's especially not fond of the ever budding friendship between Hermione and Draco.
Which is why it's all the more worrisome that they've been cooped up in the Potions classroom for more than fifteen minutes now. Alone.
Whatever could they be doing in there?
***
"Draco – ah – did you put up – oh, fuck – a silencing charm?"
"No," he whispered with a proud, devious tilt to his voice, continuing to lap up the wetness flowing from her like they had all the time in the world. "Just the world's strongest Alohamora."
She shouldn't have, but Hermione's lower stomach fluttered at that. The arousal flowing out of her increased tenfold at the idea of all of them listening to her– Ron listening to her, listening to her with Draco–
"Draco – oh gods – Draco, we can't –" Hermione moaned her objections almost nonsensically, with no real intent behind the words. Her hands only reached down to grip his silver strands, pulling him closer.
"Having a bit of stage fright, love? . . . Want to pretend that you didn't know?"