Harry was right, of course, that she’d always held a bit of a torch for Draco Malfoy. Nothing romantic. She didn’t think about him much in the light of day. Even at Hogwarts, she genuinely loathed interactions with him...until she was alone in bed at night, the curtains tucked securely around her, and only then did she let herself imagine his sharp tongue snaking its way across her skin, or his long, pale fingers pressing into her flesh, or his arse flexing as his cock slipped inside of her. 