"You lo–" he begins and then breaks off, slamming his lips tightly together and drawing in a long breath, nostrils flaring. Hermione thinks she knows what he was going to blurt out, and it makes her skin feel too tight and a strange muddle of fury and warmth churn in her stomach until she thinks she will vomit. She is glad he caught himself. Malfoy swallows hard, finally tearing his gaze from her and staring fixed at the floor, hands jittering to adjust the front of his robes. Hermione shivers in her skin. This is so wrong. It is defilement of both of them, and everything in her rages and protests at that, even as it works, making her feel dirtied and used.