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When Draco finds Hermione alone in the library after midnight, a single touch over a shared book ignites a dangerous confession neither can take back.
Her fingers brushed the spine just as his did. A jolt, sharp and electric, shot up her arm. She didn't pull back. The air in the silent aisle vanished, replaced by the scent of him—crisp linen and something darker, like cold stone. His grey eyes held hers, and the exhaustion she’d carried all night melted into a different, warmer weight low in her belly.
she felt his erection and with one hand she took out his cock. she started masturbating looking into his eyes until he cum on the floor. she said: nice exchange, and took the book
He holds her hand and says that it should be their secret, because no one will understand it. She agrees. He asks: will you come to the library tomorrow?
his thoughts: that they can't be together. they are like Romeo and Juliet. different families are almost enemies. all that remains for them is secret meetings
Wordlessly, he helped her refasten her robes, his fingers steady now with purpose. He stood and pulled her up, then led her through the shadowed stacks, past the Restricted Section, to a blank stretch of wall. With a tap of his wand and a murmured, private password, a door shimmered into existence—not the Room of Requirement, but a prefect's private study, all Slytherin silver and green, untouched since the war. 'My silence ends here,' he said, the vulnerability in his grey eyes a deeper surrender than any physical act.