"Go on," Hermione told Narcissa rudely, and then nodded amicably at Tonks as the older woman closed the trapdoor behind Narcissa. Hermione turned around and started slowly down the stairs. Draco stood by his bed, staring at the door his mother had disappeared through. He looked like death warmed up, the poor thing. Hermione blinked at the thought – poor thing? Draco Malfoy a poor thing, really? She stopped a couple of feet away from him, swinging her arms in small, nervous motions by her sides.