After a bewildering journey that drags and shoves her up stairs and along corridors, Hermione is flung blindly, dizzy and frightened, onto hard wooden floor. The breath woofs out of her, and then she rolls and scrambles onto her back, tugging frantically at the bag tied over her head as the sound of a door slamming shut thunks loud and flat. Then there are hands on her head, and the bag, and it's ripped away unceremoniously. She is left blinking up at Malfoy and gasping in breaths of cool, fresh air as he hovers over her, pale and worried as he helps her sit up, and without seeming to think about it, carefully pushes a fall of her lank, tangled hair off her face. He tucks it behind her ear with a tender little motion, before sitting back on his heels, shooting worried glances at the door.