"I – is the bath ready?" she asks, staring at the deep porcelain tub, filled near to the brim with clean water that the steam is coiling and wisping off like fog, or blurring ribbons of smoke. Her eyes are greedy on it, and it is all she can think of; to get this filth off her and try to feel clean again. Malfoy nods, awkward, and as if she is just a houseguest, shows her where all the necessities are, before awkwardly edging past her out the door. Hermione shuts it quietly behind him, leaning her forehead against the wood of the door for a moment and letting out a shudder of relief as the key turns in the lock with the sound of dull metal, the tumblers falling.