It took barely two more seconds of suffering in the face of the inevitable. She saw Malfoy’s pale face rise and turn, heading for the door. Hermione then appreciated something she hadn’t expected to appreciate. And it was a quick glimpse of the boy’s sharp face with no particular grimace crossing it. No overt disgust. No sneer. No superiority. Just a stoic, clueless serenity. He hardly seemed like the same person.