All Hermione wants to do after that is curl up in her armchair and try to seek some dreamless peace for a few hours, but in the end she doesn't sleep at all, because Malfoy can't. As the hours stretch on and he begins to sober up more, the pain from the flogging settles in deep and the numbing charms are not enough to keep it at bay. His back is ribbons of flesh beneath the bandages after all. Of course it hurts. The agony must be all but unbearable, and yet Malfoy bears it nearly silently, with bitten lips and pillow-muffled whimpers. The alcohol haze wears off much too fast for both of them, and Hermione finds herself sober and exhausted as dawn creeps ever nearer, her head throbbing and groggy and swirling with thoughts she doesn't want to think.