Charades

Draco checked the watch on his arm as he began his thirteenth lap around the coffee table in the sitting room, at war with himself. He knew better than to march himself right upstairs to Hermione’s room, risking whatever state of undress he might find her in for the sake of getting them to the party on time. Three days separated him from the safety that came with returning to Cambridge for the spring semester, and Hermione had been growing more restless as the weeks passed and he kept a respectful distance.

Respectful because she was his step-sister. Distance, because she had to know the effect watching her walk around their house in little more than a crop top and knickers for over two weeks had on him, and that it wasn’t appropriate.

Or: The one time a family game of charades goes a little too far.