Draco brought the red-headed prisoner her dinner. The House elves had been taking care of her, bringing her meals and fresh changes of clothes. Aside from her pajamas, the Dark Lord had requested she wear her school uniform.

Fucking pervert.

He waved his wand to open Ginny’s door, the other hand holding her dinner tray. She wasn’t in the room but he heard the shower running in the bathroom. He set the tray down and turned to the door.

The bathroom door was cracked. Soft clouds of steam were escaping. A flowery smell accompanied the gently mists that were wafting into the room.

Draco suddenly found that his feet were no longer obedient to his brain. He felt the uncontrollable, irresistible pull, as his feet carried him towards the bathroom door. And now his hand was disobedient, because it was reaching for the door. And his eyes soon followed suit, because he was looking into bathroom. His tongue went dry and felt thick in his mouth. His disobedient hand was now pushing the door of the bathroom open, allowing him a better view. And his traitorous eyes were looking, no straining to see whatever site lay beyond the door for him.

His brain screamed at his eyes, his hand, his feet to move, to retreat. But they did not obey him, and he stood in the doorway. Looking.


Steam everywhere... and a sweet intoxicating scent that reminded him of when she forced him into an embrace, his lips in her hair. And then his gaze shifted and even through the fog of steam he saw her.

Her back was to him. The shower rained down on her, water cascading down her body. Her wet hair looked like a waterfall of blood down her back, sticking to her wet pale skin. Her arms raised up and wrung water out of her hair. Holding her hair out of the way he could see the entirety of her wet, naked back. She turned ever so slightly and the swell of the side of her breast became visible for a brief moment. The sight of that delicious, rounded flesh caused a jolt of electricity to shoot through him. The jolt must have reconnected his brain synapses because suddenly his brain was connected to his limbs again. He launched himself away from the doorway of the bathroom, through the bedroom, and out into the hallway. He the launch did not come to rest until he was safely in his own room, leaning against the closed door, breathing like he had just been chased by a rabid blast ended skrewt.


Draco had a nightmare that night. Yes, it was definitely a nightmare. It was a horrifying series of images burned into his brain. He tried to shake the images out his head, but they persisted…

Smooth, creamy skin under his hands.
Long crimson hair spread across white linen.
Small hands running up his back.
Soft lips underneath his…

Yes, it was all a horrible, horrible nightmare. Definitely.


He brought Ginny her breakfast tray that morning, knowing he needed to at least check on her. They sat at the small table in her room together, silent.
She picked disinterestedly at her breakfast, pushing it around her plate. Draco noted that her face looked weary and drawn. The familiar dark circles he usually saw under his own eyes were now present under hers.

“It’s rude to stare, Malfoy.” She said without looking up.

Oh if she only knew...

He raised an eyebrow. “Sleep well, Weasley?”

She set her fork down and leaned back in her chair, folding her arms.

“Not particularly.”


So, she wasn't the only one having bad dreams.

Draco stood up, calling for a house elf to clean up their breakfast. He made to leave the room when Ginny’s small hand darted out and grabbed his wrist. He halted and looked down at her. Her eyes were dry, but they were red rimmed and pleading.

“Malfoy, please,” She whispered, “Please don’t take me to him.”

He averted his gaze, unable to meet her eyes. Instead he looked down at the hand clasping his wrist. Slowly, gently, he pried her fingers off of him but did not let go of her. He allowed his hand to linger on her fingers. Words failed him, so he instead moved his thumb across her fingers in a gentle caress.

He chanced a glance down at her, expecting fear, anger, fury… but her dark eyes were warm. Impossibly warm. She looked down, and a slight nod of her head seemed to acknowledge her resignation.

He let her fingers slide out of his hand, and left without a word.


It was night, and Draco found himself once again being led by his traitorous feet towards Ginny’s locked room. He carried a small box with him, and he entered her room.

She lay on her side, her back towards the door. Moonlight shown through the window, and its reflection of her skin gave her an ethereal glow. For a moment he hesitated, wondering if she was awake, but she raised her head and turned towards him.


He suddenly wondered if this had been a good idea, and he remained rooted to the spot in the doorway.

Ginny rose from her bed and walked to him. Her long hair was pulled back from her neck with a ribbon, and she wore a plain white nightgown. She looked at him with a gentle curiosity.

He cleared his throat, and held out the box to her.

“What’s this?”

“Dreamless sleep potion. Thought you might need it.”

She took the box from him, and for a moment she seemed lost for words.

Draco continued. “There’s enough in there to last you the rest of the week.”

Her hand stroked the box, and she looked back up at him. Her brown eyes filled with tears but they did not fall.

“Thank you.” She managed to whisper. And then once again she threw her arms around him, this time around his neck, squeezing herself to him.

He took a small step back to regain his balance.

“What are you doing Weasley?”

“It’s a hug you stupid git.”

He chuckled softly. But then he became very aware of her body pressed to his. He closed his arms around her, feeling her softness. He turned his face more into her hair, inhaling a breath of her sweet scent. The hair off her neck allowed his lips to linger mere millimeters from her skin.

It was too much. He began to release his hold on her but as he did, the soft skin of her neck brushed his lips. His breath caught, and then they were face to face, still half-embracing. Pleasant sensations rolled through him.

His eyes searched hers.

He could not read her, and his gaze flickered down to her soft, parted lips. Warning bells alarmed in his head, and the jolts of electricity in him increased.

“Malfoy?” She whispered


Stop this now.

Her breathy whisper somehow broke him out of his chance, grabbing Ginny’s arms and holding her out away from him at arms length.
With a brief squeeze of her arms, he fled the room.
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