🌧️ The rain clings to them, beads of water slipping from their skin as they stumble into the tent, breathless, dripping, desperate. The gentle drizzle from earlier has turned relentless, a storm beating against the canvas walls. Hermione’s curls stick to her cheeks, her lips parted in a breathless laugh. Then her soaked sweater is gone, and his mouth is on hers.
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