A/N: It's a Christmas miracle, readers! In the form of my Mum, who let me borrow her laptop while on our family holiday. Since the destination of the holiday was a seven-FREAKING-hour plane trip away, I managed to write a whole chapter of TA2 in a Stopover environment! Alas, I was not invited to tour the 'upstairs' ;)

Thanks so much for your lovely reviews! A couple of reviewers said they'd binge-read all of the first TA and up to chapter 13 of this one, for which I admire their stamina and courage :) I'm beginning to wonder if my stories should come with a medical disclaimer? haha

As always, please enjoy! Oh - almost forgot. Lemon below...

Hermione watched Draco depart with a pensive look and a nibbled lower lip.

Ginny, who'd already leapt into bed, rolled her eyes. 'He'll get over it,' she said, sounding like her Mum. 'Now, hop into bed! It's time to talk.'

Dutifully, Hermione doused the room's light and climbed into her twin bed by the light of her wand. 'About the boys?' she asked, facing Ginny. 'They came back from the pub very subdued, and in Draco's case, cranky.'

Ginny cast a small Lumos and held it beneath her chin. 'That is worth looking into, but we can beat it out of them later. You must remember that the traditional topic for discussion after Lights Out is'- she paused for dramatic effect – 'boys!'

Hermione wrinkled her brow. 'But that topic is about boys.'

Ginny sighed. 'If you subtract Dad and my brothers from that group, who do you have left?'

Hermione didn't need to think that hard to figure it out. Or think at all, really. 'Draco and Harry.'

'Correct!' Ginny imitated a toothy game-show host she'd seen when watching TeeVee at the Grangers. 'I'd like to go first.'

Hermione snuggled down in her bed, bracing herself for a detailed description, or speculation, about parts of Harry's body she'd prefer not to think about, thank you.

Then Ginny sobered. 'About Malfoy.'

Surprised, Hermione glanced over at Ginny's face. Now it was her turn to bite her lip.

Gently, Hermione said 'You don't have to, Gin, it's okay'-

'But I do have to,' Ginny blurted. 'I need you to completely understand what happened between us, otherwise I'll never get over this lingering guilt. About you not really knowing. Draco's not told you anything, has he?'

No, he hadn't. Well. He'd told her, in a most uncharacteristically subdued and stumbling manner, about why he seduced Ginny, and when - along with why - he ended it. And that he hadn't taken her virginity. Which probably kicked off Pansy's diabolical revenge.

She didn't yell. She didn't scream. She didn't slap his face or take to his testicles with a rusty razor blade. Just one look at his white, guilt-ridden face told her all she needed to know.

That he'd changed, and for the better.

But having Draco give her chapter and verse about exactly what he and Ginny did without their clothes on wasn't something she was dying of curiosity to learn.

'Gin'-

'I mean it.' Ginny's voice wobbled. 'I don't want you thinking it was worse than what it was.'

Hermione didn't need much imagination to think that this could be a very bad idea. But Ginny was determined, so she hoped her love for and trust of Draco was solid enough for her not to fillet him like a side of beef afterwards.

'All right,' she said, very reluctantly.

'Thank you.' The relief in Ginny's voice was plain to hear. She was quiet for a moment, thinking. 'At the beginning, we mostly sniped at each other. But even then, he did his best to calm my nerves…'

Hermione listened, staring at the ceiling, while Ginny spoke. She didn't interrupt.

She heard about all the things Draco showed or taught Ginny; who was clothed and who wasn't. She also heard how patient and respectful he was with her fiery friend; how he refused to give in to her increasingly impatient demands for full sex; and that his own needs were considered last of all, if ever. How they slowly bonded over Quidditch, and began to forge a tentative friendship that was separate to the sex lessons.

And that's all they were. Just lessons. They didn't feel anything for each other except as cautious friends. And those abruptly ended when Hermione stole his heart.

Eventually, Ginny ran out of things to say. She was tempted to nip downstairs and cool her parched throat with a slug or two of the twins' bootleg firewater that they thought they'd concealed from the rest of the family.

There was an unnerving silence from the other bed. Had Hermione fallen asleep? It was most unlike her to be silent for so long while conscious.

Then she heard a muffled sob.

Oh, hell.

Ginny leapt out of bed and crouched on the floor next to Hermione's head. Wanting to put her arm around her friend but unsure how it would be received, she clutched her hands together and beseeched 'Please don't cry! I'm not worth it. Please don't kill Malfoy either – I never thought I'd say this, but even he deserves a second chance at life.'

The sob changed into a wet, sniffly giggle. 'I'm not angry-upset,' Hermione promised. 'It's just that hearing about how Draco was with you… I felt…'

'Yes?'

'Envious.'

'Eh? What on earth for?'

'I wish he'd taught me what he'd taught you, the way he taught you'- Hermione got no further. Emotion overwhelmed her, and tears tracked down her cheeks.

Overcome, Ginny hopped into Hermione's bed and wrapped her arms around her dear friend.

When Hermione's sobs dwindled, Ginny whispered 'You'll have Draco as your friend, lover and partner for the rest of your lives. My time with him was a drop in a bucket compared to all the experiences you've yet to have together. There's no need to envy me. Therefore, I forbid you to.'

Hermione smiled and turned to face Ginny. 'You've become so wise, lately.'

Ginny snorted. 'Three months in a sports-mad school when you're only one of three girls makes an impression on you.'

Hermione smiled again.

They lay silently together, cheek to cheek, like they did when they were kids.

'I'll say this for Malfoy, though,' Ginny ventured slowly.

'What's that?'

'Godric, he's good.'

They dissolved into giggles.

'Gin?'

'Yep?'

'Do you think you could teach me how to striptease?'

Harry and Draco's heart-to-heart occurred in the morning, as both were asleep the night before.

When Draco woke, he fought off the unsettling feeling of the discombobulation one associates with waking up in a strange bed, room and house. For a startling few seconds, he thought the room was on fire, but he realised that it was just wallpapered end-to-end with lurid orange Chudley Cannons memorabilia.

He glanced over at Harry and wondered how in Merlin's name he managed to sleep through the troll's battle cry that was Potter's snoring.

He felt around on the floor for a suitable missile and lobbed it at Harry's head.

Harry fought off the silken fabric that suddenly covered his face. Blearily, he opened an eye and squinted at it, only to yell out and fling Draco's boxer briefs as far away from him as possible.

Draco hooted with laughter while Harry groped for his wand and vigorously scourgified himself.

'What the hell was that for?' Harry snapped as he put on his glasses and raised himself up on his elbows.

Now it was Draco's turn to yelp. He was used to Potter's thatch of unruly black hair looking like someone had taken a Muggle eggbeater to it, but the horrific state of Harry's bed-hair reminded him of a shaggy dead animal, well in the stages of advanced rigor mortis and likely beginning to smell.

Draco did his best not to look at it. 'Because you were putting the house at serious risk of collapse with your ground-shaking snores.'

'Whatever,' Harry mumbled.

'Also, I'm irritated and horny. Not for you, you understand.'

'I sincerely hope you don't entice Hermione into bed by throwing your dirty laundry at her.'

'Har, har,' said Draco, mildly sarcastic. Changing the subject slightly, he asked 'Can I ask how far you've taken things with Red?'

Harry flushed. 'What's it to you?' he asked suspiciously.

Draco rolled onto his stomach and rested his chin on his fists. 'Because I can't face another week without having sex with Hermione,' he said frankly. 'You've no idea what lengths we've gone to in order to be together these holidays! So, if you're sleeping with Red, you must know of a place on the property where you can be undisturbed that isn't affected by the anti-nookie wards.'

Hiding a wince at the unbidden image of Malfoy and Hermione having sex, Harry mumbled 'We've fooled around a bit.'

'Fooling around is good,' Draco encouraged. 'Any tips for locations?'

Harry sighed. 'In the barn, Arthur keeps a Muggle Ford Anglia.'

'Huh?'

'It's a car, Malfoy.'

'I knew that.' Draco ignored Harry's snort. 'Go on.'

'That's it.'

'What's it?'

Harry clutched his hair. 'That's where we go.'

'Oh! Right.' Draco thought. 'Is that the only location?'

'Well, you could try the garden shed, but it's currently occupied by gnomes, and they don't take too kindly to being asked to sit outside while you put a tie on the door handle.'

Draco pouted. Fucking gnomes. Well. This isn't awkward, having to co-ordinate shagging times with Harry-the-Boy-with-a-Dead-Animal-on-his-Head Potter. 'Uh, so…'

Harry sighed again. 'The safest time's at night, so how about we have alternate nights?'

Draco would have preferred one hundred percent exclusivity, but even he could see that wasn't going to fly. 'Fair enough,' he agreed. 'So, tonight…?'

Harry flopped back onto his bed. 'Fine. You can have tonight.'

His mother raised him to be a gentleman. 'Thanks awfully, Potter,' he said. 'I'll make an extra effort not to throw my undies at you from now on. You can't say fairer than that.'

'Oh dear God,' Harry mumbled.

After a few minutes' silence, Harry quietly said 'Malfoy?'

'Hmmmph…?'

'Do you have any… well… tips for being with Ginny the first time?'

Draco opened an eye. 'Surely you know what to do? You didn't spend all that time in Parkinson's room playing chess, I imagine.'

Harry ignored that statement. 'I've never been with a virgin before,' he mumbled. 'I don't want to hurt her.'

Draco slowly sat up. 'As long as we only talk about this once.'

'Agreed,' came Harry's vehement agreement.

Draco thought back to the surreal time he spent with Ginny in the Room of Requirement earlier in the year. 'She's responsive,' he said quietly. 'She orgasmed quickly when I touched her g-spot. She's small, though, and tight, significantly so. Make sure she's very aroused, very wet. And depending on your, er, size, you may not be able to go all the way in. Use your fingers first to see…' he couldn't go on.

He hauled himself out of bed and searched for something he could throw on while trying to locate the bathroom in this vertical rabbit warren.

Harry watched him in silence. 'Thanks,' he said, when it became apparent that Draco wasn't going to add any more.

Draco pulled on some track pants and faced him. 'For what it's worth, I'm sorry, Potter,' he said in a low voice, his grey eyes steady on Harry's.

Alert the Prophet! was Harry's initial reaction. But he had the nous to nod formally at him and say 'It's okay, mate. Ginny has time for you, and I trust Hermione's judgement without question. You've become reasonably tolerable, you know.' Then he smirked. 'Shame you weren't like this all through school.'

Draco smirked and gave him the finger.

He was just about to open the bedroom door when Harry said 'Malfoy. I've got something for you.' He climbed out of bed and fossicked through his backpack.

Draco turned around, a confused wrinkle marring his marble-sculpted forehead.

Harry found what he was looking for and headed towards him. 'I didn't have the chance to return this to you.' He held out his hand.

In it was the rumpled, unopened letter that Draco gave to Harry before just before the duel began.

Draco swallowed. He stared at the outstretched letter. 'You kept it.'

Harry shrugged. 'It wasn't mine to throw away. And since you lived, I didn't give it to Hermione.'

Draco's hand shook a little as he took the letter from Harry. 'Thanks,' he whispered.

Harry ran a hand through his rumpled hair. 'We won't talk about this, either. In fact, how about we have a rule: nothing that gets talked about in this room gets talked about again?'

Draco raised an eyebrow, impressed. 'You'd make quite the diplomat, Potter.'

'Something to consider if I don't get into a Quidditch team, I suppose.'

The household woke, yawned and stretched. Everyone assembled at the kitchen table where Molly loaded it down with bacon, sausages, eggs, tomatoes, mushrooms and towering piles of toast. Items such as yoghurt and fruit salad have never darkened Molly's kitchen door.

This time, Draco pounced on the tureen of scrambled eggs before anyone else did. He preened under Hermione's admiring eye as he dished some out for them.

'So! What does everyone have planned today?' Molly asked brightly, as she finally sat down to a plate of toast and preserves.

'Work,' monotoned the twins.

'I didn't mean you two,' Molly sniffed. 'What about the rest of you?'

'I'm popping in to the Ministry with Charlie, dear,' Arthur said, chasing a runaway tomato around his plate.

'Why's that?' Molly was perplexed, but thankfully not suspicious. 'You're still on summer holidays! You haven't made a dent in the list of things that need fixing.' She waggled her wand and a rolled parchment appeared by her shoulder. It unravelled itself, spilling to the floor and then some.

Arthur turned pale and gulped.

'I won't be in all day, dear,' he assured her hastily. 'I'll be back in a couple of hours' time to tackle the' – he swallowed – 'list.'

'Oh, good!' Molly beamed. Then: 'What exactly is it that you're doing at the Ministry, Charlie, dear?'

Charlie paused with a gigantic forkful of heavily-salted meat product at his mouth. His eyes darted around the table, taking in the silent glances of the other men, Hermione and Ginny noted.

'Some new regulations from the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures have been proposed,' he said lightly. 'I'm here to put in a submission about dragon repatriation to their country of origin.'

'That sounds fascinating, Charlie!' Hermione said, all innocence. 'I'd love to hear all about it.'

Charlie turned a rather fetching shade of pink. 'How about when I get back, love?'

Hermione smiled and said that was fine, while Draco growled under his breath at Charlie's over-familiar endearment. Only one man gets to call Hermione 'love,' and that man is Draco Malfoy, i.e. him.

'How about the rest of you?' Molly asked, directing the teapot towards her mug.

'Hermione and I have something organised for the day,' Ginny said brightly.

Harry and Draco glanced at each other. 'Quidditch?' they both mouthed; then nodded.

'And the boys will be coming with us!' added Hermione.

Two sets of shoulders slumped a little.

'What are we doing?' Harry asked.

Ginny and Hermione grinned. 'Shopping!' they said together.

Two sets of shoulders slumped a little more.

'But darling,' Draco tentatively argued as they assembled later by the Floo, 'I don't need to go shopping. I have everything I need.'

'Don't you need anything for your first semester at University?'

'Possibly. I haven't received an owl about it yet.'

'Well, what about your university accommodation?'

Draco looked blank.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. 'You do know where you're going to be living, aren't you? Or are you planning to Floo back and forth from Malfoy Manor?'

Perish the thought. 'I assumed we'd have a place together,' he said.

She stared at him, eyes wide. 'You mean 'live together?'' she gasped.

Draco shrugged. 'Well, yeah.'

Hermione's mouth open and closed a few times. Ginny whispered 'We'll meet you there,' and pushed a resigned Harry into the Floo.

'Uh-huh,' Hermione replied, hardly listening. She looked at her hands, then up at Draco, and said 'T-this is rather sudden. I mean, we haven't talked about this.'

Draco eased his hands around her waist. 'What's to talk about? I love you, you love me. We're both attending University for the same semesters. If we got separate places, one of us would be wasting our money because we'd be sleeping at the other person's place. We're adults, love. We don't need to keep sneaking around.' Except for this week, he added silently.

A smile crept over Hermione's blushing cheeks. 'This is such a big deal in the Muggle world,' she said shyly. 'Moving in with your boyfriend.'

Draco smiled. 'It's almost unheard of in the Wizarding world. People usually live at home until they marry. Society could be scandalised.'

She grinned. 'Fuck society.'

'That's my girl.' He kissed her forehead, followed by the tip of her nose, then her lips.

'Oi! Confine your dry-humping to the bedroom please,' Fred grumped as he and George got ready to Floo to their shop. 'Some of us don't need to have it rubbed in our faces that we're temporarily short on girlfriends.'

Draco showed them his manicured middle finger while Hermione wrapped her arms around his shoulders. 'We're going to be living together!' she said proudly.

Fred and George exchanged looks, then rolled their eyes. 'Oh, Godric,' George muttered, and Floo'd away.

Fred patted Hermione sympathetically on her arm. 'If you need to dispose of a body in a hurry, send us an owl.' He winked and disappeared in a whoosh of green flames.

Only six more days and we'll be free, Draco chanted in his head. Six more days…

Like refugees on a storm-tossed dodgy-looking motorboat built for a maximum capacity of six but three hundred desperate, ripped-off souls are crammed on board, Draco and Harry clung to each other (metaphorically), prayed (well, invocations were frequently made to Merlin, Gryffindor, Slytherin and a few other lesser-known personalities) and counted the seconds until they found themselves washed up on the shore of a (hopefully) benevolent nation that had a pub within crawling distance from the beach.

In short, they bonded over their intense dislike of shopping.

Shopping one-on-one with Hermione is fine, Draco mused. But stick two or more women together and all of a sudden a short trip to buy something simple like a sunhat turns into an expedition of Shackleton-like proportions. For example, it took Ginny and Hermione two bloody hours for each of them to select one article of clothing from one of Diagon Alley's emporiums, as each suggested item had to be carefully scrutinized for colour, length, boob flashability and overall sexiness (at least, in Ginny's perception) by the other girl before it was tried on, and – inevitably – discarded.

He tried to count the number of items of clothing that they'd tried on and deemed not worthy of their Galleons, but he got too depressed after reaching one hundred to continue.

Finally, they decided on their purchases. Or purchase. Ginny was now the proud owner of a wispy silver high-above-the-knee dress that would do for school dance functions and other places of entertainment that her mother didn't frequent. And Hermione contented herself with a fitted bronze-coloured t-shirt with a cowl neck and cold shoulders.

Draco and Harry's mouths fell open when the girls presented themselves with one teensy shopping bag dangling from their arms. 'That's it?' Harry said faintly.

'We need to pace ourselves,' Ginny explained.

Hermione could have sworn that for the briefest of seconds, both boys looked like they were about to cry.

'One more shop, and we'll go to the pub for lunch,' she soothed.

They perked up a tad. 'What's the next shop?' Draco asked bravely.

'Lingerie!'

They perked up a lot more.

That adventure resulted in a mixed bag, the boys decided later. One the one hand, it was nice to view all the lovely, frothy lacy bits and pieces that the girls selected for trying on and imagining how they would look on their respective girlfriends' bodies. On the other hand, the number of suspicious glares they received from staff and the other customers took the shine off the experience somewhat.

Eventually they sat outside and zoned out until the girls left the shop, bearing, they noted with interest, even smaller shopping bags.

Draco hopped up. 'Carry your bags, madam?' he asked Hermione, reaching out a hand.

She slapped it. 'You're not getting to see what's in the second bag until later,' she warned.

'How much later?'

She eyeballed him. 'You tell me.'

He grinned and winked. 'Leave it to me.'

Draco and Harry were much revived by their splendid lunch and liquid libation at the pub. Resigned to their fate, they meekly asked where their next port of torture – er, shopping destination – was.

'Quality Quidditch Supplies,' Ginny sing-songed.

Choirs of heavenly angels sang around the boys' heads.

'And I'm going to Flourish and Blott's,' Hermione said smugly.

She may as well have told the air, since the boys had already leapt out of their chairs and were helping the girls out of theirs.

'And after that, we're meeting up to look at shoes,' Ginny said firmly.

Only Draco heard the tiny sob that broke from Potter's mouth.

It was midnight, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring – not even the ghoul that lived in the attic.

Oh. Except for Draco and Hermione.

'Where are we going?' Hermione asked as Draco led them outside, dressed in their jim-jams, and crossed the lawn under the twinkling stars.

'It's… a surprise, my dear,' Draco said, wondering, not for the first time, whether all this skullduggery was worth it. Then he remembered that it was either this or Mr Hand for six long, long, long, long days. And nights.

He couldn't wait for university to begin.

Hermione frowned when he led them to the Weasley barn. She frowned a little more when he led them inside the dark, cavernous interior. By the time Draco located the Ford and opened one of the back doors by the light of his Lumos, she was scowling mightily and had her arms crossed under her breasts.

'No,' she said when Draco reached for her hand.

'Oh. You want to do it on the bonnet? Cool.' He took a step forward when Hermione's arm shot out and blocked him.

'Draco, are you insane?' she hissed. 'I'm not some whore you pay by the hour. Nor are we a couple of teenagers sneaking around behind our parents' backs.' Then she stopped. 'Oh.'

Draco leaned against the car and drew her slowly into his arms. 'I know it's not ideal,' he whispered. 'But I have it on good authority that this is the only viable place for us to be private.' He rested his chin on her head.

He was leaving the decision to her, she realised. She knew that going for a week or more without sex was difficult for him, since he's hardly ever had to do it. And his temper at Malfoy Manor as their two-week stay progressed wasn't the mellowest it could have been.

And she loved being with him, so close together that the intimacy sometimes brought tears to her eyes.

Also, he's an incredible fuck.

But a car, for Christ's sake? She felt like she was an extra on Grease.

She knew what to do.

She shivered lightly. 'It's a little cool out here,' she whispered. 'Shall we take shelter?'

She felt him smile. 'Your horseless carriage awaits, my lady,' he replied, and opened the car door.

Once inside, Draco conducted a professional inspection of the back seat, judging how much room they had.

Eventually, he sat back and slung an arm around the back rest. 'Well. It's a little bijoux,' he commented.

Hermione burst out laughing, smothering her mouth quickly. 'That's an excellent description of the situation we find ourselves in, Mr Malfoy.'

He grinned. 'This means we are restricted in the number of applications that can be utilized.'

She slowly crawled onto his lap. 'I love it when you get all business-like,' she purred.

'You do?'

'Try it and see.'

He wound an elegant hand through her curly hair. 'I therefore propose that the interlude commences with a mutual and simultaneous exchange of oral stimulation to each other's organs of reproduction. Or one after the other, if the circumstances do not permit.'

So, a sixty-nine, or cunnilingus and a blow-job if there wasn't enough space.

Hermione removed her Snoopy sleep shirt and dropped it onto the passenger seat. 'That meets with my approval, Mr Malfoy,' she smirked. She brushed her fingertips over her nipples. 'As you can see.'

Mr Malfoy could see, indeed. Nothing wrong with his eyesight, no sir. He could also see that Ms Granger had neglected to don her intimate apparel, i.e. her panties.

Big Drake wanted to see it, too. So he let him out.

Hermione slowly straddled him, brushing her core over his erection. He hissed. 'And afterwards, Mr Malfoy? What do you propose?'

His eyes glittered in the moonlight, and his own fingers replaced Hermione's over on her breasts.

'I propose,' he drawled, 'that the position you currently occupy seems ideal for these straitened circumstances.'

She put her lips to his ear. 'You want me to ride your cock until you explode in my cunt, Mr Malfoy?' she whispered before drawing his earlobe gently into her mouth.

Fuck…

He pulled her face towards his and kissed her urgently, roughly. Their teeth clashed, so did their tongues – they were too impatient to observe the niceties.

'Yes,' Draco gritted in response to her provocative question.

Hermione smiled slowly and lifted herself off him. The night air felt cool over his drenched cock and he closed his eyes, briefly savouring the feeling.

Hermione stood in the cramped footwell. 'Come on, big boy,' she giggled, 'let's see if you're small enough, for once.'

Draco raised a superior eyebrow and lay down on his back, his erection standing as stiff as a flagpole. He beckoned her boldly. 'Get on my face, woman,' he demanded.

I can't believe I'm doing this, she sighed to herself. But she climbed onto the seat, onto Draco and settled her wet core at his mouth. She didn't even have time to grip his cock with her hand before he grabbed her buttocks and sank his tongue into her channel.

'Omigod!' she squealed. Oh, he was delicious.

'Wanerinpan,' Draco said between her lush, pink labia.

Hermione translated that to mean 'Wand is in my pants,' so she felt around on the car floor for his trackpants, pulled out his wand and passed it back to him. Draco pulled away from her cunt for the briefest of seconds to cast a silencing spell. That done, he tossed his wand aside and dove straight back in, paying luscious attention to her clitoris and driving her insane with pleasure.

Meanwhile, Draco's cock was very wet indeed from the going-over she'd given it with her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the head, flicking it lightly through the slit at the top before working her way down, inch by slow inch, down his hard length. She bobbed her head up and down, striving to make her way further down, where she'd never been able to reach. His cock filled her mouth, and started to nudge the back of it.

Draco felt his stresses melt away. If there was anything he loved better than Hermione going down on his cock, it was pushing his face into her dripping wet cunt, capturing and swallowing her juices. Hearing her moan. Watching her body tremble as she lurched towards orgasm – much like she was doing now, he noted.

Pulling his tongue out of her channel, he applied it to her clitoris, lashing it energetically while he plunged two long fingers into the space he just vacated.

Hermione shrieked around his cock, the vibrations shooting through him. Gods, this is heaven, he thought happily. I could die quite happily with her on my –

She came forcefully, as his squished-together fingers could attest to. Now a little more confident with cunnilingus, Hermione ground her cunt into his face, and he still couldn't get enough of her. Leaving her clitoris, he lapped up the juices that pulsed from her body, his eyes closed in euphoric bliss.

She stopped trembling, and pulled his cock out of her mouth, breathing hard. He applied a kiss to each beautiful buttock, and she moved off him. Rubbing his face, he pulled himself up and sat in the centre of the back seat.

'Gods,' he whispered, 'it gets better every time.'

'Still can't deep-throat you,' she pouted.

He pulled her gently onto his lap. 'Don't worry about me,' he said. 'I mean it.'

She smiled at him, a little sadly. 'I can't believe I used to think you were arrogant and selfish.'

'I'm still arrogant and selfish!'

'Well, I'll give you arrogant. But you're not selfish anymore.'

'I bloody well am. You're the only person I put before myself.' He thought. 'And Mother, I guess.'

'Probably best not to talk about your mother while we're having sex.'

'Good point.' His grey eyes met hers. 'Fuck me.'

Smirking, she saluted him and eased his cock into her pussy.

They soon discovered that the rocking movement brought on by their lovemaking caused the Anglia to rock, too. And that someone had been neglecting the poor car's rusty springs. No doubt it was somewhere on Arthur's list of things to fix. After snorting with laughter into each other's shoulders, they decided to make it a quickie.

The garden gnomes were not amused about being woken by the rhythmic, creaking squeaks emanating from the barn, and decided to engage in a little bit of extra-special helter-skelter when the sun rose, thus adding to poor Arthur's list.

A/N: More hijinks at the Burrow next chapter! After that, viva Italia!