Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR and company; I am the owner of all that is different in this story.

don't scare me like that

Gently, the slivers of light crept along the wall, fading as they went until the only light was that of the fire. Darkness had fallen, enshrouding Hogmeade in its hostile cloak that hid the deeds not mentioned in the day's plain face. Ginny stirred in her bed, noting the warmth of the room. Opening her eyes, she saw a number of containers sitting on the nightstand and then closed them unconcerned. She felt very warm, like she had a radiator within her that kept her securely so. Lazily she rolled onto her back and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, jumping when she opened them again.

Draco sat slumped over in his chair, sleeping. He was mostly turned towards her, the fire warming the color of his pale skin and hair. He looked like an angel lit by the fires of hell. But it wasn't his figure that caught her eye. It was the wand that had dropped from his fingers and lay gleaming on the floor.

Stealthily, she slipped from out of the tangled blankets and crept over to the wand, holding her breath with every step. He slept silently on. Slowly, she reached for the wand which lay just below the relaxed fingertips of his hanging arm. Using a finger, she knocked the wand a safer distance away from Draco's hand, freezing and wincing at the sound of it rolling. It stopped near the door and she picked it up and tried an Alohamora on the door. She felt the magic work through her, and was pleased the wand worked for her. She was less pleased when she tried the door: it was still locked. She tried the spell again, and was met by the same effect. Draco must have put a charm on the door.

She looked around the room for some other escape route, her eyes settling on the window. Of course! Why hadn't she thought of the window before? She jumped out of bed and rushed to the window. It was locked. She tried the spell. Draco was too stupid to remember to charm the window. She pushed open the window, for once appreciating the cold that came in. It opened to a thin, deserted alley way with a large amount of fluffy, unmarred snow at the bottom. She was only on the second floor…it wouldn't be too far to jump. Fueled by adrenaline, she stuck one leg out of the window, and then the other before shimmying down and clinging to the frame. Ginny closed her eyes and let go, holding her breath so she wouldn't scream. She landed safely, if not awkwardly, croaching down to absorb the shock. Around her, the snow clung like souls in the river Styx, but she shrugged it off as she took her first few steps of freedom. The snow seemed to have never been shoveled during that winter and she waded, waist high in the snow, her feet growing progressively numb, her clothing wetting and becoming a heavy barrier from her destination. Still she progressed, step after frozen step, her legs tingling with numb. Finally Ginny reached the entrance to the alley, only to collapse on the doorstep of the Pheonix Nest.

~~~~~

Draco woke from an uncomfortable chill. His body groaned with the discomfort of sleeping in a chair and he stretched. Immediately afterwards he wished he hadn't; a gust of wind blew in to chill him to the bone. But rooms weren't supposed to have gusts of wind. And then he noticed the chill in the air and the open window. He glanced at the bed. Although the bedcovers were in complete disarray, the bed was empty. Ginny wasn't there.

Bloody Hell, she had escaped right under his nose.

He tore across the room to the window. Below, a path just big enough for Ginny had been plowed through the snow.

How could he be such an idiot?

Grabbing his broom, he flew out of the window, following her trail. In five minutes, he flew the path that had taken Ginny a half hour and stopped at the end, uncertain of where to go next. She had made it all the way out of the drift and was now on her way, probably back to Hogwarts where she would report him and he would be expelled. Oh Merlin.

At the door, the wheezy old concierge appeared, a pipe hanging from the edge of his mouth and worn leather slippers on his feet.

"Oy, ye ken anything about a red-haired lass?"

"Yes," Draco said, and hastily dismounted, "Can you tell me where she is?"

"Aye," he said, motioning for Draco to follow him. This didn't appear to be the same man who had given him his room the night before.

"Ye keeping a room here?"

"Yes," Draco replied as the new old man led him through the hallway on the right of the front desk. Apparently these were the living quarters for the two…whoever they were.

"Ye'll be the Malfoy kid who turned up near midnight. Nearly gave Tommy an attack when he saw ye. Don't worry, no one else will ken ye're here. And the redhead showed up on the doorstep half frozen. Seems she waded through the snow to get here. But I won't ask ye no questions." The old man walked without the assistance of a cane, but his speed was very slow as he kept shuffling his feet. Draco couldn't see any tobacco in the pipe and wondered why the man carried it with him. He stopped at a door and turned abruptly to open it. The room was well lit, with lamps and a fire. Blazing against the dark, upholstered chair, Draco could see Ginny's head peeping over a bundle of blankets. He breathed relief as he approached her.

Ginny was sleeping when he entered the room. The firelight lit streaks the color of a pheonix's tail feather in her slightly damp tendrils of hair and made her skin glow a violent white in contrast.. The blanket covered her completely; she seemed to clutch them to herself in her sleep. A line had formed between her eyebrows as they knit in thoughtful sleep and he felt compelled to smooth the now creased brow. Instead he turned back to the old man.

"How bad is she?"

"Near half-frozen when I found her, now I 'spect she's thawed a bit but she's still as bad health-wise. I reckon she'll need a least two days afore she walks again, and a fulls week at the least to recover." Draco turned back to Ginny's sleeping form. Shadows of blue hinted on her deathly pale skin.

"Sir-"

"-Jimmy," the man, now Jimmy, interrupted, holding out his hand for a shake. Draco was reminded of a time when he had done the very same to Harry Potter and had been rejected. Failing to fall in Potter's footsteps, Draco took Jimmy's wrinkled hand in a firmly friendly handshake.

"Could I use your fire?"

"Be my guest," Jimmy said, waving Draco to the pot of Floo Powder. Draco took a handful and tossed it into the fire before speaking "Malfoy Manor!" into the flames and sticking his head in. His head sped rapidly through the fireplaces to appear in the one in Malfoy Manor. It was located in his father's study and he found his father deeply immersed in his work. Draco cringed at the thought of disturbing him but did it anyways.

"Father," Lucius Malfoy jerked his head up in irritation. Draco hardened his expression, waiting for his father's reaction.

"What do you want?" his father snarled, whirling around in the chair to face the fire.

"Ginny's sick."

"Your mother can have a look at her when she gets here."

"She's too sick to go to Malfoy Manor."

"What could she possibly have that prevents her from traveling?"

"Hypothermia." Lucius cursed. It was one of the few maladies that could only be assisted but not cured by magic. And any exposure to cold could do unlimited damage. Warming potions were only temporary relief from the chill but there was no remedy for the immune system's fragility.

"How could she have possibly…"

"She opened a window," Draco lied, "She wanted to hinder me and she knew that hypothermia would prevent her from being moved." Lucius sat silently, his eyes ablaze with anger.

"I'll give you one week to cure her," he grit out finally.

"Thank you, father," Draco said before popping back to the inn.

Jimmy wasn't in the room when Draco returned and Ginny had awakened and was staring at him warily over the top of the blankets, shivering. Draco sighed.

"I'm not going to hurt you." She kept on shivering. Her lower lip was quivering. He had the strangest urge to still it with his finger.

"Where am I?" Her voice was a gentle whisper as fragile as an icicle.

"In one of the lower rooms of the Pheonix Nest," Jimmy replied for Draco as he reentered the room, carrying a fresh stack of blankets. "Ye'll have a change of clothes for the lass, of course."

"Yes," Draco said, his mind more preoccupied with Ginny's state of dress beneath the blankets, "they're upstairs at the foot of the bed."

"I'll go get them," Jimmy said, taking the hint. Draco waited for him to leave before exploding.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" he asked quietly, pressing the rage from his voice.

"Escaping," she replied, her chin tilted up in defiance. She was very pale, with dark purple circles under her eyes that stood out like a cloud that had drifted to cover the moon.

"Well you nearly killed yourself and as you can see, you haven't escaped."

"At least I know where I am: in the Pheonix Nest."

"For all you know, the Pheonix Nest could be anywhere, from Bulgaria to Beijing."

"I happen to know it's in Hogsmeade." She lay her head back, as if to fall asleep again, before opening her eyes. "Who was that man?"

"No one you are to speak to."

"So he's not one of your henchmen. Good."

"If you're planning on getting him to help you escape, you're a fool."

"You can't stop me."

"But I can prevent you from being alone with him." She squinted her eyes and through the slits he could see her mind churning, to no produced effect. She sighed and closed her eyes once more and Draco turned to the fire. A fire's crackling could be merry or dismal or even described as ferocious. It seemed like it fit every emotion that Draco could name, and every one he felt.

Jimmy returned, the containers of food tucked under one arm and the robes in the other arm. He walked over to Ginny, who had opened her eyes to watch him approach.

"He're ye go, lass. It's best ye'll get out of those wet clothes before your chill worsens." She snaked out a pale, thin arm and grasped the bundle of cloth, her thin fingers clutching the fabric. Jimmy turned to Draco, "And I expect ye'll be helping the lass as ye're acquainted and it isn't right for strangers to see other strangers without clothing."

"But-" Draco began to protest, but it was too late because Jimmy had shut the door. It was odd; the old man appeared slow and docile but moved with alarming dexterity when he wanted to.

"Don't bother," Ginny huffed, attempting to extricate herself from the blankets, "I can do it myself." After her attempt, she realized she couldn't. She could move her legs and lower torso, but only slightly and with great effort and pain. Draco turned back to the fire, quelling the urge to watch, and trying to ignore the harsh breaths of her exertion. Soon, the sounds of movement stopped and he turned to face her.

The material was wet, making it virtually transparent all over. Her negligee clung to her legs and his shirt, his shirt, clung to her, allowing him to see the shadows of her nipples beneath the material. She stared defiantly at him, ready to deflect any scrutinizing he would dare to commit. Instead he walked over to her and kneeled, reaching for the buttons of the shirt. She didn't stop him, and Draco didn't look her face throughout undressing her. On top of the stack of fresh blankets, there lay a towel, which Draco picked up and used to dry her. She didn't assist him in any way, nor did she hinder him as he dried her. His heart quicken as he dragged the towel over her thighs and up her stomach to her breasts. He had never seen an entirely naked girl before and knew he shouldn't stare at the image of feminine perfection before him. But he couldn't help glancing every once in a while.

Dressing was more cumbersome than drying; although she helped him more readily, lifting up her arms so he could get them in the sleeves and such. After the wet blankets were exchanged for clean ones, he turned to the wet garments. The cloak and shirt he spread in front of the fire, but he didn't know quite what to do with the negligee and thong; they were quite inappropriate and he was almost certain that Ginny would be embarrassed if Jimmy saw them. The negligee he spread in front of the fire but the thong he tucked discretely into his pocket when Ginny wasn't looking.

By the time he had finished, Ginny had closed her eyes and was trying to go back to sleep, wrapped in the fresh blankets. Draco opened the door and looked down the homely hallway for Jimmy. He found him arguing with the old concierge, who he supposed was Tommy.

"You cannot allow them to stay down here! I've told you, time and time again, not to get involved with the personal lives of our customers!"

"I ken that, but I also ken that the girl is sick and that'll be the warmest room in the inn!"

"It's not your place-" Tommy broke off, catching sight of Draco.

"I'll pay extra for the room, if it wouldn't be a problem to you. And I'd like to thank you, Jimmy for taking such good care of…of her."

"Twasn't any problem." Jimmy smiled widely and gloatingly. Tommy sulked silently but nodded his head. "If ye'll need anything…"

"I'll tell you," Draco finished. "Actually, if you could move my trunk down here and have a bed conjured?"

"I'll get the trunk," Jimmy said quickly, shuffling away. Tommy looked severely uncomfortable.

"Um…there's a problem…you see, my brother – my twin – and I…we can't conjure a bed…we're Squibs you see…" Draco was taken aback. Usually squibs stopped living in the magical community. Filch was the only one he had known to actually hold a job in the magical community before Jimmy and Tommy.

"That's alright. I'll just do it myself," Draco said quickly and retreated into the room, leaving a red-faced Tommy in the hallway.

Once within the room Draco levitated Ginny's chair ("PUT ME DOWN!") and several other objects to the sides of the room. Whenever he conjured a bed, it was big, usually a king size with long, dark velvet, draping bed hangings and a full canopy. Draco liked sleeping somewhere that was completely closed off; out in the open anyone could get to him.

He conjured the bed and as usual, it was monstrous, taking a good portion of his energy to keep the magic flowing to construct it. The drapes and covers were dark purple, the color of importance in Ancient Rome, the mattress stuffed with down feathers. Ginny's eyes widened when she saw its grandeur. Draco wondered whether she thought it exorbitant.

            He walked over to her (she was still gaping) and gently picked her up. The blankets that wrapped around her unwound as he carried her over to the bed. She felt small, smaller than she had felt the night before, and more helpless in the way she clung to his neck with her arms. He pulled the covers back and set her down, tucking her legs in for her.

            It was weird being nice to someone without having any real reason to do it. He had one logical reason (that the Dark Lord would crucify him if Ginny was damaged in any way by her illness) and one illogical reason (which he wasn't quite sure of) to be nice. It was probably the logical reason.

            She slithered down into the comfort of the bed and Draco left, feeling himself no longer needed. He was on his way back to his own room when he discovered he was wrong.

            "She hasn't eaten all day –" Tommy said, shoving a spoon and a bowl of chicken broth forcefully into Draco's hands (it was amazing that the broth didn't spill) and steering him forcefully back to the room. Jimmy followed, dragging Draco's trunk behind him.

            "– and ye'll need to stay the night –" Jimmy continued, panting slightly from the exertion of moving the trunk.

            "– because she'll need your body heat –"

            "– and she'll appreciate the company." By now Draco was facing the door which Tommy was opening before he was shoved unceremoniously through it. Jimmy, in a another burst of youth, shoved the trunk in after Draco, catching him in the knees before clunking to the ground that made Ginny jump, sit up, and whirl around. Draco, recovering from his fall, held out the bowl of soup in front of him sheepishly.

            "Dinner?"

            "I'm not hungry." She started to slide slowly back down.

            "You haven't eaten all day," Draco said, approaching the bed.

            "Then let me revise my statement. I'm not hungry enough to eat anything you've poisoned."

            "Why would I poison you? If I wanted you dead, then I would have put you back out in the cold with your wet clothes."

            "I –" she started, but finding nothing to fill the sentence she stopped. "Fine." She reached for the bowl and he handed her the bowl and spoon. Her hand shook violently as she raised it, spilling the contents of the spoon back into the bowl.

            "Here, let me," Draco said, uncertainly exasperated after she had repeated the action 3 times.

She leaned her head back so it rested on the headboard, her eyes closed but her mouth open in acceptance. Tentatively, he lifted a spoonful of broth to her mouth. Her lips closed over the spoon and he tugged it free, mesmerized by her lips clinging to the spoon. He repeated his action and she repeated hers. She had opened her eyes and stared into his as he fed her. Little by little, the soup disappeared from the bowl and he tore his eyes away from hers to put the bowl on the nightstand. He wondered if she knew how much she affected him. She must, otherwise she wouldn't do it.

He leaned over her, reaching around her with both arms. One found its place at her waist and pulled her arching back towards him while other pressed the pillow down to its normal position so that she could lie and sleep.

"Thanks," she whispered, the sound just barely audible to the ear into which she spoke.

"You're welcome," he whispered back, the words coming out rumbled in his throat.

She leaned back to sleep and he tucked her in like his mother used to when he was very young and she still had emotion.

After he was certain that the curtains around the bed were closed, he undressed for bed, settling for silk pajamas over his preference of his birthday suit. She was already asleep when he joined her in the artificial darkness caused by the curtains, fitting against her and hugging her as if she were a long treasured teddy bear.

~~~~~

Thanks everyone who reviewed. I'm sorry about the slow updates but school is slowing the pace of my writing and while fan fiction is important, so are my grades.