Ginny bent her head over the steamy cauldron, pulling a loose strand of damp hair out of her face to tuck it behind her ear. The damp lock clung to her forehead as she peered down into the bubbling brew, curiously watching the purple liquid ooze and pop.

She looked up curiously. "Why isn't it thickening?" she asked. "I added the minced orange peel just after the lacewings."

Her tutor lifted an eyebrow. "Are you sure you minced them and didn't chop them? Potioncraft requires that one attend very carefully to such details."

"I don't know, Malfoy. You're the one who watched me do it," she accused, giving the potion another swirl with her long-handled wooden spoon.

Frowning, Malfoy shrugged off his school robe and started to roll up his shirt sleeves. "Did you add the carrion entrails just before the lacewings?" he inquired, cuffing his shirt just below the elbows. "And have you been watching the temperature?"

He bent down to check the fire, and when he lifted his head, his normally pale skin was glowing pink from the warmth. Ginny swallowed and kept stirring. The potion looked slightly thicker. Maybe.

He reached across the boiling surface and took the handle of the spoon, slipping his fingers over hers. "It might help if you stirred it correctly, you know," he drawled. With his hand firmly wrapped around hers, he proceeded to guide the spoon in a wide figure-eight pattern.

The steam from the cauldron continued to billow around them, and she realized with a blush that the well-made Oxford was not immune to being a bit, ah, clingy. She was hoping that the faint tingles in her hand were from the effects of the magic, and not related to fact that Draco Malfoy was holding her hand in a hot and steamy room – and looking damn good doing it.

And just like that, the potion began to thicken.


A/N: And that, ladies and gents, is how Leigh does hot 'n steamy.

Just kidding...sorta.