Hermione highly doubted any Weasley would necessarily find it in their hearts to forgive him if they found out what the pair of them had gotten up to, but at this point, the Weasleys were the furthest thing from her mind. With the way he was going at it, she couldn't help tightening her fingers in his hair despite wanting to be conscious of not hurting him. She didn't know how she'd managed to last this long as it was, but when he began to pick up the pace, she knew she was fighting a losing battle.

She couldn't keep up with her silence, not while she was squirming underneath him like that, and it was all she could do to force herself to at least call out his name rather than let out a strictly unintelligible cry as her body gave in, buckling and shivering around him as the pleasure made her toes curl. If he could promise more of the same every time they were naked together, Hermione might just never bother with clothes again.