Hermione has laid five deep, galleon-sized burns of scorched, crackled flesh into the soft skin of Malfoy's abdomen, and is beginning the sixth. Malfoy cries out in agony as he has with all of them – his throat raw now from the wordless cries and screams – and thrashes in the throes of the pain that he cannot contain anymore. He twists and bucks as the wounded, hoarse sounds keeps tearing from his throat, and Hermione slides and tumbles off him onto the hard stone, the torch burning a line across his thigh through his trousers and grazing her knee. His trousers catch fire, leaping up with flame, and Hermione's stomach slams down sickly, turned to lead as she keeps herself from crying out with fear with for him and slapping the fire out in panic. Instead she waits, staring wide-eyed and clutching her searingly painful knee until Malfoy slaps his trouser leg out, sobbing and whimpering. His face is wet with sweat and tears and snot, and the blood from his lip, run down his chin and along his jaw, down his neck, mixed with sweat to a pale pink.