Sex & Healing Potions

Draco knew her body.

Every scar and ailment since he’d started healing her.

When she was angry—at Ron for being an arse about how she handled an arrest, at Harry for getting all the best cases, at Robard’s blatant sexism towards witches on the team—Draco would circle his fingers into that sore point on her neck and her words would melt away and her eyes would drop to half-mast and he’d take her to bed until nothing mattered but the present moment.