His eyes are anxious. They don’t know where to look. And he’s moving from one foot to the other. His breathing is out of rhythm and she focuses on it as something to hold onto more than Draco himself. Hermione takes that stuttered exhale and listens, counting each one. In and out and in then out again. All externals sounds - the beeps, the nurse’s chatter, the sound of her own straining - fades into the background. Now, there is only him. She wonders what might be racing through his mind. Will he be happy when this is all over? Will they go home and be a family?