The hours drag and Malfoy suffers, and Hermione tries to help, with numbing charms and cool cloths, and soothing words when he becomes nearly incoherent with the pain and his exhaustion. And it's awful to feel this way when it's at Malfoy's expense, but Hermione has to admit it feels good to be useful. It feels like taking back a part of herself to be able to do something, to have a purpose even if she can't actually help him that much. She feels more like herself than she has in weeks, despite her unease over what had nearly happened between her and Malfoy. Hermione tells herself that it's the fact that Malfoy is the only thing keeping her from a slow death by torture that makes her feel like this – just gratitude and proximity and fear. Nothing else.