Her dark hair falls in wet straggles past her breasts, dripping damp patches on her shirt as she slowly paces around the large suite, taking everything in one last time. Her eyes skim over her – Malfoy's – four poster bed, where she has slept and cared for his injuries in nearly equal amount. The hideous lingerie and tools of torture Voldemort sent Malfoy, tucked up in their open box on a high shelf. The corner bed Malfoy used to sleep in when she first came up from the dungeons, and has been again for the past week – excluding last night. The armchair she'd claimed as hers, that had been her only safe haven for so long, when she had still been scared of Malfoy. The liquor cabinet...