"Never mind," Hermione grumbles, settling back onto the mattress. She pulls the thin covers over her shoulders and stares up at the black ceiling. Malfoy doesn't say anything further and the room delves into a quiet that is disconcerting. Every creak of the pipes and the sharpness of the howling of the wind outside is intensified tenfold and she feels she might breathe too hard and it'd be like a scream. 