Author's Note: Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter—I only just took my stat midterm this morning. I feel like I did pretty awful, but a lot of my classmates had looks on their faces that matched how I felt, so I'm guessing there's going to be a pretty big curve…

Anyway, I have a gigantic math hw assignment due tomorrow morning that I've been putting off to study for stat, but I decided to take some time out to revise the next chapter for you guys, so here it is! (:

Chapter 35

Ugh.

I hurt everywhere. Everywhere.

My eyes are forced open. Light pierces them, and I blink a few times weakly. Strong arms pull me up into a sitting position, and I look up into a pair of silvery-grey eyes.

"Malfoy?"

Oh god, I sound like an old crone.

"Shh, don't speak."

Of course his voice sounds beautiful, soft and velvety.

I try to support my own weight but find that my muscles aren't strong enough. His arm catches me, and I lean back against it. I can hardly even keep my own head upright, and his shoulder looks extremely tempting. I'd just have to tilt my head a tiny bit to the left…

Then I see that he's holding up a glass of liquid. One whiff, and I know that it's a strengthened Blood Replenishing Potion. Where did he get it? And then I realize that I'm not in the prison cell anymore. I look up at him, surprised.

"It's not poison," he says. "Drink it."

I wonder if this is a trick. Or maybe a blissful dream. Merlin, if I wake up in a few minutes and find myself back in that cell, I think I'm going to kill myself.

"Look, Granger, I'm sorry. I didn't have any other options. But if you don't drink this potion, you're gonna die. So please, drink it. I did not spring you from that cell for you to die in my bed."

His bed? His bed? This is beginning to feel more and more like a dream to me.

But dream or not, I might as well enjoy freedom while I can, and suffering from blood loss is certainly no way to enjoy a dream. I try to open my mouth wide enough for him to pour the potion in.

It tastes awful, but I'm sure it's not half as bad as Skele-Gro—with Skele-Gro, the smell alone is enough to make me want to hurl.

At long last, the glass is empty, and Malfoy sets it down. His arm slowly moves downward until I'm lying back on the bed, and I feel some stinging as the potion begins to work on me.

"Get some sleep, Granger," he says as I close my eyes.

His arm begins to slide out from under me, but I reach out to catch it.

As pathetic as it is, I don't want to be alone. The lusty expressions of Montague and his three friends are still clear in my mind's eye, and honestly, I'm terrified out of my mind.

Please don't go, Malfoy. Please don't go.

"You'll be fine. I'll stay right here," he says, answering my silent plea.

Can he read minds now? Is that it? Well, I don't care as long as he doesn't leave.

With a mountain of effort, I crack my eyes open and see that he's watching me. "Thank you," I say.

"Don't mention it."

My eyelids suddenly become too heavy, and the world fades away.

My eyes pop open, and I look around.

The wall directly in front of me is painted Slytherin green. The cloth directly below my cheek—sheets, I realize—is a darker shade of green, with matching covers.

I'm in a bed.

What?

I thought I was… but then memories flood into my head.

Malfoy was torturing me—I shudder and try to block out the memories of the pain—but he… and somehow I was in a bed—this bed, I presume, and he had that potion for me…

Merlin, how long was I asleep? Why is it that I can't remember anything clearly?

I let out a small sigh and hear a sleepy groan in response, right behind my head.

I freeze.

That voice…

Am I in bed with Malfoy?

Then I realize that there's an arm draped over me and another beneath my neck. I shift with the intention of moving away, but those arms tighten around me, pulling me back into his body.

Oh god, there's something hard nudging between my thighs from behind.

I inhale sharply as the hand attached to the arm that was draped over me begins gently kneading my breast, and I realize that I'm only covered by the thin robe that Malfoy conjured for me back in prison. I know that I should stop him, but then his thumb rubs my nipple, and a bolt of pleasure lances through me.

I shouldn't let him touch me like this.

"Malfoy?" I hiss.

There's no response—he must still be asleep.

His thumb continues to toy with my nipple, and I close my eyes, giving in to the foreign but fascinatingly pleasurable feelings that are flaring to life low in my belly.

Then his hand leaves my breast, and a feeling of dissatisfaction threatens to overwhelm me.

His large hand cruises down along my side, and I feel his hot breaths against my ear. I shiver involuntarily as anticipation ties my stomach in a knot. His hand stops moving downward at the hem of my robes and slips underneath.

I really should stop him now.

He was just torturing me, not so long ago. I can't just…

But his hand slowly travels up the inside of my thigh, rubbing in circles, and I can't bring myself to wake him. I just want so badly to feel… is that a crime?

My breath hitches in my throat when his fingertips find a particularly sensitive nub and brush over it, so lightly that it's almost painful. Then the pad of his thumb presses against it, sending a jolt of liquid heat through my core.

I sigh.

Oh, yes.

His hand shifts a little, and I feel a long finger running along my slit, teasing but never entering.

No one has ever touched me this way before, and I find that it feels so much more intense than it does in my dreams.

His thumb continues its maddening work on my bundle of nerves, and I inhale sharply, trying hard not to make a sound.

Then two fingers suddenly plunge into me, stretching me out, and I gasp. Oh, my god!

His fingers begin to pump at a torturously slow pace, and his thumb slows its rubbing to match the rhythm set by his fingers. I buck my hips against his hand, trying to speed him up, and he chuckles breathily by my ear, closing his mouth around my earlobe and sucking gently.

Merlin, if he wakes up and stops now, I think I'll kill him.

Just as that thought crosses my mind, he strokes some very sensitive spot inside of me, and I can't hold back the moan that erupts from my throat.

He stiffens behind me, and his hand freezes, his fingers still inside me.

Damn, he's awake. I just know it.

Then he rolls away from me to lie flat on his back.

"Fuck, Granger. Why didn't you stop me?"

My cheeks are flaming, probably hot enough to fry an egg on. I don't have an answer for him. I can't even think up an answer for myself. Why didn't I stop him?

I don't know, I don't know, I don't know!

All I know is that there's a burning need between my legs, and I want him in there. Now.

His right arm slips out from beneath my neck, and I turn to see that he's clapped his right hand over his face.

I don't know what to say. I can't speak for my action—or rather, my lack of action.

So instead, I take the easy way out and blame him.

"Malfoy… does your body just… do that… on its own?"

"Do what?" he mutters.

"You know what I mean."

Then he's on his feet, agitatedly running a hand through his messy white-blond hair, and I get my first glimpse of him with his shirt off.

Suddenly it feels like there's a lot less oxygen in the room.

He's sculpted, but not too bulky, and his skin is absolutely flawless. He turns, and at this angle, I can see his front. Nice abs and well-defined obliques. The only mark on this perfection is that long, thick scar that twists across his chest. I see now that it ends just above his right hip.

"Granger, you're staring."

My face flushes again and I turn my head the other way swiftly. Whoa… perhaps too swiftly. My head swims, and Malfoy's suddenly sitting on the bed beside me. He holds up a small stone for me to look at.

"Is that a bezoar?" I ask.

He nods.

"Why would I need—"

"The spell that hit you completely severed your carotid artery. I repaired the damage with the countercurse, but I did it in a hurry. I'm not taking any chances, so you're going to have to swallow this."

I stare at him and shake my head, slowly this time so I won't hurt myself. "That's such a waste! Bezoars are very rare, and they can undo most poisons. I wasn't even poisoned."

"They're not only used as antidotes, Granger, you know that."

"But I—"

"Humor me."

I sit up, but it takes a lot of effort. Did I really lose that much blood? I'm still so weak.

Then, as though sensing that I'm having difficulty staying up, he shifts to sit slightly behind me so that I can lean back on his shoulder. My skin seems to go up in flames at the contact—the thin fabric of my robes is the only thing separating us.

For one insane moment, I want to feel his skin rubbing against mine, and I immediately feel myself growing wet at the unholy images that flash through my head. What's gotten into me?

He holds out his hand, the small stone sitting in the middle of his palm.

"Well, I can't just swallow it as is," I say reluctantly.

I glance up at him in time to see him smirk, and my body temperature seems to heat up abnormally quickly. Merlin, please help me.

He concentrates on the bezoar, which quickly shrinks to the size of a pill.

"Better?"

I nod, watching him warily. He seems perfectly comfortable with wandless, nonverbal magic. I lift my arm to take the pill from him, but even that simple motion seems to require a ridiculously disproportionate amount of effort.

He shakes his head, and I let my arm drop with a sigh. I open my mouth, and he pops the bezoar in. He produces a glass of water and holds it to my lips.

Why is he taking such good care of me? Maybe he feels guilty for torturing me.

Or maybe he's still under Voldemort's orders, and he staged a rescue. Maybe that's why I can't remember anything.

Then I start to remember parts of the exchange I'd caught between Malfoy and Bellatrix in the dungeon.

He settles me back down in bed and leans over to pull the covers back up over me, and I take the chance to observe his face while he's not looking at me. I haven't ever seen such a caring side of him. Then his face turns back towards me, and I rapidly avert my eyes.

"I have to go," I say. "I have to get back to Grimmauld Place."

"No. I haven't made sure that it's safe. If Mundungus got away—"

"You got my message," I realize.

Malfoy nods. "If he got away, then your headquarters could be compromised."

"Oh, and this mysterious place is somehow safer? Death Eaters won't come knocking?"

Where is this place, anyway?

"No. No, they won't."

"How can this possibly be safer than—"

"It's under the Fidelius Charm," Malfoy says, interrupting me.

"Oh, and you're a Secret Keeper. Is that it?"

"Yes, actually."

"How many other Secret Keepers are there?"

"None."

"Then… how many people have you—"

"None. I've never taken anyone here, other than you."

I falter. "But…"

Bellatrix's argument that Malfoy does care about me is starting to look more and more like the truth. And I'm terrified of what that could mean.

"How do you expect me to believe you?" I say. "You tortured me!"

I shudder again, remembering the pain that consumed me.

"Frankly, I don't care whether or not you believe me. But you're not leaving here until you've made a full recovery. I don't think that one bezoar was enough. Don't you feel how weak you are?"

He sounds angry.

I glare at him. "One bezoar is enough. And that was already a waste."

"Well I don't mind wasting another one. I've got plenty extra," he says heatedly.

He stalks out of the room without another word, effectively ending the conversation. That was probably just one of the most ridiculous disagreements I've ever had with anyone. I suspect that he's so concerned with my recovery because it's his fault that I'm so hurt.

But is it really his fault? During the interrogation, I ignored the first time that my necklace burned me, and when I checked his second message, he'd clearly been trying to warn me. Maybe I've been thinking too much about his motives. But it's hard not to suspect someone who was torturing me with a curse that hurts even worse than the Torture Curse.

I bite my lip. I'm safe now, aren't I? And I clearly remember that he gave me a Blood Replenishing Potion last night. He could easily have let me bleed out in the dungeons—I should give him the benefit of the doubt.

I sigh and force myself up into a sitting position. It already isn't as hard as it was a minute ago. That's a good sign, isn't it? I shove the covers off me and swing my legs around, letting them hang off the bed.

I can do this.

I push myself onto my feet. My legs manage to support me for a few wobbly moments, but then they give out, and I fall heavily to the ground.

Oh, it hurts.

Malfoy appears in the doorway, takes in my state, and turns to leave again.

"Malfoy, wait. I'm sorry," I say. "Please, help me."

I can't get up. Why am I so ridiculously weak? It was just blood loss! Unless… I've never heard of a curse called Sectumvasculus before. Maybe a side effect is weakening of the victim.

Then Malfoy's walking towards me, shaking his head. He squats down and easily lifts me up in his arms. He still doesn't have a shirt on, and being held against his bare chest affects me much more than it should. He sets me down on the bed, just as gently as before, and I look at his face, searching for answers.

"Stay put," he says gruffly.

"Where are you going?" I ask.

"To your headquarters. I'm going to tell them that you'll be staying with me for the next few days."

"Next few days?" I repeat aloud. "I never said—"

"Don't argue with me," he says as he gets dressed. "You just stay right there. Don't make me Stun you."

I remember the protective charm still hanging around my throat. "Malfoy, can you Stun me?"

He frowns. "I'll be back."

"We're going to have a long talk when you get back," I say.

"No, I don't think so," he says. "Bye, Granger."

Then he's gone, and I glare at the spot where he was last standing. I'll be asking him some questions when he returns, and I won't rest until I get answers.

But the most important one probably won't roll off my tongue—I can't even imagine speaking it aloud.

Does he truly care for me?

Author's Note: Next chapter will probably go up tomorrow, but I'm not making any promises! ;)

Thanks for reading.