"Two households both alike in dignity, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny. Could almost have been written for us." Draco heard Hermione mutter as he watched her through a shelf in the library.

He knew what she meant. Her house and his had been at war for centuries and it didn't have to be all out war either. At present Gryffindor was locked in a fierce prank war with Slytherin while the school watched with amusement and carefully keeping well back of the frequent duels that broke out around the school.

Now he watched her as she put aside her little book of Shakespeare scenes and looked up at her three best friends who were planning their next set of pranks.

"Fred promised us those tricks and he hasn't followed through." Harry protested.

"George has though. He sent us some good stuff. You know it really helps having Weasley's Wizard Wheezes on our side." Ron said.

"You know as well as I do that, were they still at school, they'd be leading the attack. Instead of our reckless head boy." Ginny said repressing a snigger. Harry glared at her.

Hermione sighed quietly. From where she sat with her back to the bookshelf which was concealing Draco, he could tell she was bored out of her skull. He could read her moods far better than her best friends could.

"If I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss." He whispered through the shelf. She glanced around and he saw her smile. She got up and pretended to be browsing the shelf between them for a book.

"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss." She whispered back.

Draco locked his grey eyes with her brown. "Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?"

"Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer."

"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;
They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair." Slowly and together they moved to the end of the bookshelf.

"Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake." Hermione was now at the end of the row.

"Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take.
Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged." Draco grabbed her and pulled her round to his side of the shelf, and drew her into the shadows out of sight. He kissed her sweetly and she gasped and had to restrain a pleasurable moan.

"Then have my lips the sin that they have took?" Hermione whispered as they broke apart, determined to play out their little scene as they always did.

"Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!
Give me my sin again." Draco wound his hands through her curly hair and kissed her again.

"You kiss by the book." She breathed as he proceeded to kiss along her jawline to her sensitive spot under her ear.

"Where's Hermione gone?" Ron's voice broke through quite loudly.

Hermione stopped Draco and placed a hand over his mouth, which he kissed. "To be continued." She whispered before removing her hand and kissing him briefly before turning to go back to her friends.

Draco caught her hand and stopped her. "Why then tonight let us assay our plot." He whispered as he kissed her hand.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat and she smiled and blushed a little, looking into his eyes so full of love. She, and only she, knew what that quote meant when one of them said it to the other.

"Thou art a votary to fond desire." She whispered.

"Farewell fair cruelty." Draco muttered as she pulled her hand away and went back to her friends.