The brightest witch of her age is older now, and not particularly wiser.
—but her tits are—
"Yes, I'm flirting with you."
"Rolling thunder, damning rain, trapping us here like . . . rats in a cage, and—"
"That rhymes, Hermione. Did you mean it to?"
"I'm . . . not entirely inebriated."
And that's too pissed to know that you—
"Still want to fuck you, though."
Hermione's matter-of-fact coarseness makes everything hard for Remus.
He repeats his question, thinking, Shouldn't you at least be looking at her eyes?
Her breath is hot against his cheek. "Because I don't want to give in to despair."