"What?" Draco asked, standing as she did, and they both stood staring at each other, the small distance between them feeling both endless and suffocatingly close. Draco’s fringe hung in his eyes as always, and Hermione suppressed the urge to reach out and push it off his face. His eyes were clear, the colour of slate in the dim light, and his expression was more honest than it had been in days; written with open sadness that only made Hermione feel worse.