Sorry, haven't written for ages! Been extremely busy. Hope you like :)

Draco awoke to the sound of the shower running. He sighed, relieved that he would not have to face Granger just yet. He thoroughly regretted kidnapping her, but then what choice had he had?

He sat up slowly, his muscles aching from the uncomfortable night on the sofa. He hadn't slept well. In the dark, it was even more difficult to keep the images of her out of his mind and he'd lain awake for a good part of the night, reciting the Elemental Laws of Transfiguration to keep his mind off her. Then, when he'd finally got to sleep, she'd invaded his dreams.

He shivered, and got dressed. His clothes were still ripped and dusty, but he'd wash them later. Wandering around the room, he picked up a slice of last night's pizza, but then he remembered her licking it off her fingers last night and suddenly lost his appetite.

Exhausted, he sank down on the bed. Her bathrobe from last night lay beside him, and unthinkingly, he picked it up and sniffed it. God, she smelt good. Kind of flowery, with a hint of spice. Blood rushed to his face, and he dropped the robe as though it had burnt him.

What was he doing? Granger was his enemy. A means to stop Potter and Weasley ratting him out to the Order, and by default, the Dark Lord. He was using her as insurance, nothing more.

But he was attracted to her. He couldn't deny it. As well as his physical reactions to her – the way he went red whenever he looked at her, the way she set his heart racing, the way she aroused him – there was the fact that he couldn't get her out of his mind. Even when he was asleep.

Frustrated, he rose to his feet and picked up the bathrobe to put it back where he had found it. Just then, the bathroom door opened, and Granger stepped out, wearing only a towel that barely skimmed her knees.

He gaped at her, once again caught speechless. "Umm …" He could feel the blood rushing to his groin and for a moment was unable to think of anything else.

"That's my robe, thanks," she said, stretching out her hand for it.

"What? Oh yeah." He held it out to her, and as she took it, her fingers brushed his and he felt an electric current surge up his arm. He glanced up, only to find she was staring straight at him. At once, he noticed how dark her eyes were, that there was a light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and that her lips were full, pink and moist.

Only when she stepped backwards, did he realised he'd moved involuntarily closer to her. He snapped his mouth shut and hastily retreated to the sofa, burying his nose in a magazine.

He did his best to ignore her for the rest of the day. Around lunchtime, he left the room to buy some more food for them, though he'd never felt less hungry. When he returned, he found to his great relief that she was dressed in jeans and a shirt, which looked as though she had cleaned them. But the shirt was thin and the two top buttons were missing, and he caught a glimpse of her red bra through it. And when he handed her the food, he caught a trace of her scent again, which sent his pulse skyrocketing.

He sat down on the sofa again and tried to read a magazine. Granger was over by the fridge, cutting slices of bread to make sandwiches. He jumped at the sound of her voice.

"Why did you kidnap me?"

"What?" He was surprised; she'd never voluntarily tried to have a conversation with him.

"Why did you kidnap me?"

He couldn't see her face, but he was sure she had just rolled her eyes. "Because … so that your friends wouldn't let the Dark Lord know where I am."

There was a pause as she appeared to consider this. He noticed with some discomfort that her jeans were tight, hugging her shapely curves.

"So … have you left him then?"

"What? Who?"

"The Dark Lord, have you left him?"

He sighed. "In a manner of speaking."

"Why?"

"I don't really want to discuss it, ok?"

She snorted. "Either you've left him or you haven't. And if you don't want him to find you, I'm inclined to think you don't support him anymore."

Draco scowled. "It's not that simple."

"Why?"

"Because …" He got up and began to pace back and forth. "Because … I killed a man."

"So?" She turned to face him, her eyes hard. "I'm sure you've done it before."

"What?" he snapped. "Of course I haven't killed anyone before, you stupid bitch, what do you take me for?"

Her face contorted in surprise and – though she hid it quickly – hurt. Draco ran a hand through his hair, shame prickling at his conscience. "Sorry," he muttered. "I don't – I mean, I know you think I'm a Death Eater, but he made me … he used me …" He caught his breath, painfully aware of the pleading tone of his voice. "It was a Death Eater that I killed. That's why."

He looked up and met her gaze. Her face was blank with surprise; she hadn't been expecting that.

"But … how? And why?"

"I don't want to talk about it," he mumbled, ashamed of how much he'd told her.

She gasped suddenly, and hissed "shit!"

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing, I just cut my finger … ow."

"Let me see." He strode over to her and took her hand. The cut was deep. She was still holding the bloody knife in one hand, and he half expected her to try and use it on him, but as he glanced at her face, she dropped it with a clatter.

Still holding her hand in his, he dug in his pocket for his wand. She tensed, and he looked up in surprise. She expected him to hurt her. He felt ashamed, and all at once overwhelmed by how close they were. He could smell her scent, and the smell of her hair, and feel the heat emanating from her body.

Get a grip, Draco.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, pointing the wand at her finger. "Episkey."

The wound healed. Not as well as he would have liked, but well enough. He made to drop her hand, but she suddenly clutched his fingers. "Thank you."

He opened his mouth to reply, but couldn't think of anything to say, and jerked his hand away from her. His fingers were tingling.

Hermione's falling fast! ;) hahaha.