"You can't ask me to stop feeling guilty when you haven't even healed, Malfoy," she says, carefully spreading the topical potion out over the edges of the burn, watching the fine blond hairs on his thigh slick down. It's intimate, kneeling here like this with Malfoy in nothing but his shorts and too much bandaging, with her hands pressing against his warm skin. He could do this himself now – of course he could – but neither of them have mentioned that.