"Clothes," Malfoy says in a rasping, tear-stuffy voice before she can, as his eyes sweep over her and he realises. He gets up fast and starts digging through drawers, sniffing and wiping at his cheeks with the back of his wrist. He is raw and unhidden, completely without pretence, and it feels wrong to see him like this, but oddly comforting too. "Shit, I'm sorry."