"No. I wish it could be, but...no." Malfoy's eyes sweep her face anxiously as he reaches out and grips a bit of the shirt, tugging her gently around a corner, his eyes darting about – on the alert for others she supposes. He will try to protect her; Hermione knows that. She does. She believes him. He just can't protect her well enough. He keeps talking, perhaps trying to distract them both until they reach the relatively safety of his room. "There's – there's a bath, though. And it'll be safe, for now. You won't have to worry about being hur–"