Hermione's fists clench at her sides in her anger, and water from the cloth she had dipped in the bowl runs down her green and white striped trousers and drips onto her foot. "Shit," she says, and she is talking about more than just her wet trousers. She shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath, and when she looks at him again, Malfoy's fringe has fallen over his one visible eye. His face is little but a fall of hair and bitten lips. She shifts the wet cloth from her right hand to her left, and leans forward and pushes his fine, pale hair back for him with warm, damp fingers.