"I cried, and I begged father not to. Begged him. But he did it anyway. Of course he did." Draco paused, and Hermione untangled herself from him a little, pushing herself up on her elbow and staring down at his cold, stark face. She ran her fingers over his forehead, an ineffective comfort, and he frowned as if her touch irritated; trapped her fingers in his and entwined their hands together, resting them on his chest. Draco didn't look at her once, staring at the wall opposite instead, and the line of his jaw was tense, a muscle at the side jumping convulsively as he swallowed and grimaced with pain. He kept talking.