Hermione furrowed her brow and propped herself up on an elbow, staring down at him as her fingers traced over his chest. He was the picture of taut, angry humiliation, and beneath that, the pain of his injury. She nibbled at the inside of her cheek, opening her mouth and shutting it again, not knowing what to say. What could she say? It had been...unexpected and gut-wrenchingly good and awful all at once, and he was embarrassed about crying, and she was shaken that he had cried, because he was Draco and he didn't do that sort of thing. Hermione hissed in a sharp breath, head beginning to ache. She wasn't equipped to deal with this sort of thing.