She was stuffed full of iron filings, shifting and itching under her skin, and he was the magnet drawing her in. Hermione lifted the trapdoor. She made her way quietly down the steep stairs, and froze for a moment when she saw him lying in bed, an open book by his outflung arm, the blankets kicked off his bare legs. Hermione gulped and kept descending the steps, nearly losing her footing a few times as she looked more at Draco in a long-sleeved tee shirt and jockey shorts than at where she put her feet. Her heart was beating so hard she thought it might burst straight out of her chest.