Chapter 1

"I hate you!"

"It's not like I want to snog you, either!"

Draco dodged a vase and a inkwell, wishing franticly for his wand. His father's "guest" had disturbingly accurate aim, and with Lucius Malfoy and the Dark Lord both otherwise occupied, it fell to him and his godfather to keep her docile. Unfortunately, Snape was out on another mission, and he was left in hiding, trying to keep his head on his shoulders while he looked desperately for the wand he'd lost in the first barrage.

"Let me go, and maybe I won't rip your fucking throat out with my bare hands." That was one of the more reasonable things the girl chained to the solid stone wall had said in the few weeks she'd been here, almost civil in the lack of venomous invectives. He looked at her warily as she paced back and forth, the heavy chains securing her around the waist and throat clanking as she moved. Seeing that she had run out of available missiles, he cast about again for his wand.

"Wouldn't matter," he muttered, more to himself than to her or the terrified house elf who cowered against the door, holding an enormous platter of food. "If you didn't, the Dark Lord would."

"Poor pureblood," the girl mocked, throwing herself down on a small stool, shaking back the sleeves of the lavender robes he rather thought had belonged to his mother. The garment was huge on her, and she moved awkwardly in it, obviously annoyed. "Better him than me, I assure you- once I get my hands on you I'm going to torture you in ways you can't imagine."

Somehow I doubt that, Draco thought, but he wisely kept his mouth shut and motioned the house elf forward. Nervous, the little creature scurried forward and put the tray on the desk shoved close enough to the bed to act as a table for meals. The young women turned and looked at the house elf, then nodded slightly.

"Thank you," she said politely. The elf gave a quick bob of a curtsy. It was one of the girl's idiosyncrasies that she was infallibly polite and gentle to the servants, never raising her voice or offering them violence. It was only Draco she tried to kill. Well, Draco and Snape. Left to his own devices, Draco would have ignored her entirely, leaving the necessities to the household staff, but his godfather's instructions had been explicit. Their "guest" was never to be left alone with the house elves, and he had to check in on her at least three times a day for meals.

"Missy's very welcome, she is," the house elf squeaked, and scampered away again. Draco finally found his wand and lifted it from the floor. The girl glared at him, and he wearily indicated the plate.

"You should eat your dinner before it gets cold."

"I'm not hungry," she replied with bitter cordiality.

"If you get sick, my head is on the chopping block," he snarled. She shrugged, supremely unconcerned, and he folded his arms over his chest. Think, Draco, he chided himself. You're a Slytherin, damn it, think like one! "Fine. Let's negotiate. You eat your dinner, and I'll give you something in return."

"Like what?" She settled herself comfortably on the bed like a cat.