Hermione's breath is stuttering and dying in her chest. She is panicking. No. No. Nononono. This cannot happen. She stares down at the blood of strangers beneath her knees with staring, blank eyes. No. No. She does not know if it is better or worse, that it is Malfoy who will do it. She wonders if he is just as afraid, just as sickened by the thought of being forced to...do it to her. Voldemort will be raping both of them, she realises, although it is hard to see things from Malfoy's perspective, tumbling headfirst into mad horror as she is. It is hard not to see him as the enemy.