"My captive bird," he said softly, brushing her hair from her neck. Hermione closed her eyes and felt the weight of her hair, the heat of it vanish from her shoulder. His hand came up again and thumbed away the neckline of her gown, studded with garnets around the collar. She knew what he sought, and tilted her head so he could get a better look at the old scar his bite had left on her flesh. He stared at it for a long while, never saying a word, and she knew that he liked seeing her dressed in such a deep red, that it reminded him of the blood he took from her. She bore similar scars in other places now, but this was the one he treasured most though she couldn't say why.