Hermione felt ill. She didn’t know what she looked like - a mess, she thought, because she could taste the blood from her split lip and she knew her eyes must be red and ugly. She felt like there should be bruises on her neck because she could still feel the ghost of Draco’ fingers, but Draco didn’t actually squeeze that hard. There was spit and jizz on her face. She sprawled on her back and focused all her willpower on not letting her tears spill onto her cheeks.