"Yeah. I know," she says, pressing her lips together hard and trying to push down her tears. And Malfoy lets go of his fistful of her shirt, and slides his arm around her waist, tugging her even closer and resting his forehead between her breasts. Turning his head, and burying the unhurt side of his face against her, his breath hot on her skin through the thin material of the tee-shirt. She lets out a long, slow sigh, and strokes her fingers light through his damp hair for a moment, careful of the bloodied, matted patch where she'd struck him with the silver truncheon. Then she ducks her head awkwardly and kisses the top of his head. "Come on. I'd better bandage your back up now."