"Are you okay, being back here?" Draco whispered into Hermione’s hair as she stuck close to him. She nodded, though she had felt the cold unease seeping into her bones since they began their descent down the stairs. The air felt sticky, and the dust collecting on her shoes made her stomach churn. She focused her attention to the task at hand; the ritual. Draco handled the large spell book lightly, holding most of the weight in his left hand. He adamantly refused to allow Hermione to heal his broken right hand, and she suspected he’d done an incomplete job himself, the way he held it and grimaced whenever he needed to move his fingers. 