Goodnight

Goodnight

The moonlight that occasionally spilled down was too gentle; no one noticed when it arrived or when it left.

Perhaps it was because of those drifting rose petals. In the fairy-tale-like garden, one passionate, adults-only encounter after another was unfolding.

The moonlight quietly returned once more, falling over a man and woman lying among the roses, breathing heavily.

Their skin pressed tightly together, their body temperatures nearly indistinguishable, even their heartbeats astonishingly in sync.

Vincent turned onto his side, revealing distinct scratch marks across his back.

He lifted his head slightly, admiring a beautiful sight that only he could see.

Hermione, resting on his arm, pouted as she weakly reached into the flowers behind her, searching for something with her small hand.

Before long, she grabbed a thick piece of fabric and tugged the garment over with all her strength.

It belonged to Vincent—more precisely, it was the black double-breasted formal coat she had bought for him.

The moment she draped it over herself, the beautiful view vanished from sight.

Vincent looked slightly disappointed and used his other hand to toy with her scattered hair.

Before he could do so more than a few times, a small hand swatted at him.

Unfortunately, it had no strength behind it. The soft little slap had no effect at all.

"Stop it. All you know how to do is bully me."

He reluctantly let go and raised one hand in surrender. "All right, I'll stop. I'll just quietly look at you."

His gaze drifted downward, lingering over the scenery the coat could not conceal.

Hermione's temperature quickly rose, her pale pink skin deepening by two shades.

The moment she tugged the formal coat down, Vincent's gaze instantly shifted upward.

After several rounds of this, the strength she had only just regained was gone again.

All she could do was clutch the coat tightly over her heaving chest and glare fiercely at him with her little eyes.

Yet in Vincent's eyes, not only did that fail to serve as a warning, it was instead lethally seductive, drawing a wicked smile across his lips.

The instant his face moved closer, Hermione reflexively leaned back.

But with a slight exertion from the arm beneath her head, she was pulled back into his embrace.

Vincent's lips brushed against her ear. "How about we..."

"No!" She wrapped her arms tightly around him with all her strength, even using her long legs.

Held so tightly, Vincent could not move at all. Only the arm beneath her head could shift slightly.

"Uh... I was actually just teasing you."

Hermione, her eyes filled with wariness, held him even tighter.

She glanced toward the pitch-black castle. "I don't believe you. Didn't you say it would be over soon just now? I'm not falling for that again."

Vincent blinked innocently. "Then can you loosen up a little? You're holding me too tightly."

Hermione tightened her grip once again, winding her legs around him even more firmly.

Her cheeks puffed out. "Serves you right. Who told you to bully me?"

Vincent gestured around them. "We can't lie here forever, can we?"

"Hmph—" Hermione adjusted her position slightly. "I'm too tired to move now. Besides, no one will find us anyway."

Oh, so it was defensive sulking.

Vincent felt the burning pain on his back as certain moments from earlier replayed in his mind.

Girls being nervous, scared, and uneasy was perfectly normal.

And it was an unforgettable first time—the transition from girlhood to womanhood. Sensitive girls like her could easily become anxious and doubtful, questioning their own sense of self, ultimately developing an even deeper emotional dependence.

Vincent quietly watched Hermione's wary yet faintly frightened amber eyes, gently stroking her smooth back with the arm beneath her head.

As though shocked by electricity, her body instantly tensed.

He merely continued to stroke her gently, making no further move.

Gradually, Hermione relaxed, and the wariness and unease in her eyes slowly faded away.

"Sleep," Vincent said, holding her softly. There was not a trace of impurity in his azure eyes.

"Mhm." She no longer held him so tightly. "Um, I want to ask you something."

Just as he thought—she was feeling insecure.

"Go ahead."

She paused, finding it difficult to speak.

Vincent looked at her quietly, the tenderness in his eyes seeming capable of melting ice and snow.

"Um..." Hermione's long eyelashes trembled lightly. "It's nothing, really. It's just... why are you so experienced at this?"

"Hmm?" Vincent froze for a moment, only realizing what she meant when he noticed the shy flush on her face.

This was absolutely a fatal question!

When a girl said something like that afterward, it was usually because the boy's extensive experience had made her suspicious.

Skilled... no matter in what respect, Vincent had indeed been far too skilled.

As his mind raced, Hermione stammered something under her breath.

"What? What did you say?"

She took a deep breath and leaned close to his ear. "Was it because of those magazines and comics under your bed?"

Magazines?

Comics?

Vincent's pupils shook. He couldn't figure out how she had found out.

Seeing how strongly he reacted, Hermione assumed she had guessed right.

Boys going through puberty, after all—it was nothing strange for them to occasionally look at something a little risqué.

If he didn't know anything at all, was she really supposed to take the initiative?

"Cough, cough..." Vincent coughed awkwardly. "Um... when did you find out?"

Hermione's gaze darted around. "During the summer... one time, I missed you and came to see you... then you blew up the furnace upstairs while testing the Flying Boots..."

Vincent naturally remembered. He had been filthy that day, so he had told Hermione to wait in his room and had even made Gu Gu her guide.

"That little traitor!" he ground out through clenched teeth, suddenly remembering Draco's life-sized body pillow beneath the bed as well.

"Uh..." He looked especially embarrassed. "Other than those things, you didn't see anything else, right?"

Hermione shook her little head vigorously. "No, I didn't see anything at all."

She had seen it.

Vincent gave a dry laugh. "Actually, that body pillow was a birthday present Fred and George gave me the year before last."

Hermione let out a long sigh of relief.

That made more sense. Someone so magnificent and imposing—how could he possibly like—no, collect that kind of thing?

She gave a few awkward laughs as well. "They really are awful. The gifts they give me every year are just as improper."

Birthday presents were one thing, but this year's Christmas present was a little...

Now that she could hug the real person, why would she need a body pillow?

Hermione rubbed her little head against Vincent's neck. "Are we really sleeping here tonight?"

"Where else?"

She tugged the black formal coat draped over her toward him.

Thankfully, the coat was large and thick enough to barely cover both of them.

Vincent also used magic to make the bed of rose bushes beneath them softer and warmer, then gently kissed her forehead.

"Good night."

With a blissful smile on her face, Hermione lowered her head and kissed his firm chest before closing her eyes.

"Good night."