It feels like all Malfoy's warmth is seeping into her, and the shivers she hadn't realised she'd been trembling from slowly start to dissipate as he flicks his wand and mutters something and a cloak spirals out of the bag and slips around behind her shoulders. It's woollen and it smells of him, and as he passes her a container full of hot food – oh god, food – Hermione lets out a sigh and melts against him, her head falling to rest against his upper arm. He makes a startled, uncomfortable sound and stiffens, but doesn't draw away. "Thank you," she murmurs, and it's not just for the rich, meaty stew that he brought her but for the comforting feel of his body, hot and reassuring against hers. She dives into the stew then, digging in with her filthy fingers, and shovelling the chunks of meltingly tender meat and delicious vegetables into her mouth.