"Well, hello there, Mudblood," Crabbe says, still grinning as he takes a step toward her, and Hermione's skin crawls. "I didn't notice you there, pretty little thing." Her stomach lurches and she takes a step back, shoulder blades pressing into the wall. Oh Merlin. Maybe she should have just stayed quiet, like Malfoy told her. But at least – at least they've stopped hurting him. She stares past Crabbe and Goyle, at Malfoy, who is struggling to get back up. She wants to shut her eyes against the sight of Malfoy bloodied and gasping and staggering to his feet, face shaped with pain, but she can't look away. "You want us to stop hurting him, do you? And why exactly would that be?"