Draco's voice was cracked and hoarse, and sounded like some twisted, rough mockery of his own, and the pain that  speaking elicited was like having a hot lump of coal wedged in his throat. The hair withdrew, and a moment later a vial was held to Draco's lips, Hermione's head floating above it in the dim light. She looked exhausted and so, so happy, and it hurt like fucking hell to swallow. She disappeared from view once Draco had drained the small vial of bitter liquid, and he carefully rolled his head to the side a little.