"On the bed, you idiot!" She pushes at his upper arm – skin warm beneath her hand and marked with sticky blood spatter – and it is like trying to shift a boulder; he is essentially immovable, because although he sways forward slightly at her push, he rocks back into place again immediately. "Malfoy, you git. Stop it! You need to lie down before you fall down," she snaps at him, and he twists and throws her a confused, amused, pain-drenched look.