She gasped and moaned with each hard jerk of Draco's hips, the sounds jolted out of her, her fingers twining in his hair and clutching at his shoulders, legs bent and clamped around him. She tried to focus on him and not what he'd told her. Not his father bent over him, carefully slicing through flesh, measuredly snapping the bones and snicking the knife through tendons. She tried to lose the hideously unwelcome thoughts by melding into Draco, clinging to his sweat-damp hot skin, opening her eyes to his platinum hair and lean, pale shoulder, thinking of only him, now, and not back then, not screaming himself raw with the agony as the blood...