Author's note: I know it's been a while since my last update and I'm hoping it won't be as long for the next because this is the kind of (slightly?) kinky story I adore writing, still if you've read my profile you probably know I got a lot going on right now, actually more so now than when I updated it, but still it's always good to have a little back-burner slash running around in your brain to take a bit of an edge off your stress. Sorry it's a bit shorter but hoping the next one will come faster and be longer (:) Thank you kind reviewers, you're the reason this story is a priority!
It had been a while since Draco dreamed of that night that sometimes felt like it had happened more than an eternity ago and other times, like now, it felt like it had just happened. He wasn't surprised, in fact he was sure the only reason he hadn't dreamt about it the night before was because between his exhaustion and the dreamless sleep potion Madam Pomfrey had given him there was no room left for dreams of any kind. Now though, now that his bruises had been healed and his magic and fluids had been restored as much as possible, now that he was in the comfort of his own bed in his secure dorm, drifting into a light sleep, he couldn't do anything to stop himself from reliving the last time he had fallen into the clutches of the Shrub of Modus.
Draco was running as if his life depended on it. Of course his life did depend on it, because somewhere behind him, growling in the underbrush was a werewolf, a beast of his worst nightmares. Even if his father hadn't locked his wand up in his office the secant Draco returned home, he wouldn't have the strength to cast one of the few spells that repelled the mangy beasts. Ever since he had got off the Hogwarts Express he had felt drained, all the magic that had been dancing around in his belly at the start of term seemed to have evaporated.
Somehow the reasons behind why he had decided to try and flee the manor and his role as heir seem insignificant now, now that he was in the woods outside the Manor buriers. He didn't notice when the sounds of the beast chasing after him stopped, so enthralled was he by his fear. He was certain he would have continued to run for days if he hadn't suddenly found himself hanging upside down. At first he thought it was a curse, thought perhaps the werewolf had a friend who was trying to give the beast an easy meal. Then suddenly there were slimy withering objects of different sizes rapping around his body.
He gasped and struggled terrified that this was some sort of curse, definitely more dangerous than a body bind. That was when the objects tightened about him and he wasn't sure if it was the lack of air or if it was the sudden drain of what little stores of magic he had left but he found his eyes fluttering shut as he lost consciousness. That was when Draco sat up gasping for breath a few hours before the sun would even think of rising.