Draco swore under his breath as he finished his tirade and drank some more, and Hermione was caught in a rush of white-hot hurt. How dare he insinuate she didn't care? He bloody well knew she still cared about him. It was him who had stopped caring, not her. She fought a sudden urge to rip the damned bottle out of his hand and smack him over the head with it. Hot, angry tears pricked behind her eyes.