"Don't even fucking go there, Malfoy," he whispered to himself, squeezing his eyes shut. He'd mostly been joking the night before, when he'd told Hermione he was going to make her go to therapy with him. But maybe they should. Maybe it would help with some of the lingering... he wasn't sure what it was that he felt, honestly. Jealousy, for sure. Anger, most definitely. A profound sort of aching sadness that made it feel as though his stomach was a hollow pit. He was taking deep breaths in an effort to push the images he absolutely did not want in his head out, eyes still tightly closed, when he felt her shift, leg dropping so it curved around his thigh instead of his hip as her hand stroked down his chest, over his abs, down further, all the way to his cock, currently soft against his thigh.