Sometimes Malfoy pushes a disobedient bit of hair back off her face, and then ends up idly playing with her hair, carding his fingers through the tangles. Sometimes – always – she touches the uninjured skin of his thigh far more than she needs to, marvelling at how warm and soft it feels under her fingertips. She thinks the burn scars will fade away to nothing even if he doesn't get specialised treatment; it's not severe enough to scar permanently, thank Merlin. Unlike his back. His poor back, which had been perfect, smooth marble until Voldemort and she had laid waste to it – ruined it, mangled it. Hermione still thinks it's beautiful – perhaps even more so in a twisted sort of way, because he received those scars to protect her – but she is well aware it is only she who would find them beautiful and not a mutilation.