Tears bloomed in Hermione’s eyes and she felt sick for a moment, before she shook herself and cleared her throat firmly. God, she was being ridiculous; she’d just plotted out the demise of their relationship. The awful thing was, she really could see it happening that way. But it didn’t have to be that way. It didn’t. Not if they wanted it to work. She looked up at the doorway, waiting for Draco to appear there, so she could make her excuses and slip away from the others, down into the cellar. Hermione sighed, mushing her cheeks into her hand, elbow propped up on the well-padded arm of her chair.