"Because I’ll have to stand trial, you stupid bint," he grated, being horrible and mean because otherwise he just knew he’d cry. Draco couldn’t cry. Not now, not in front of her. She would want to comfort him and he...he couldn’t take that right now. He turned away from her sharply, glaring at the stars visible from beneath the porch roof, twinkling on the horizon. Hermione’s hand was cold on Draco’s arm through his thin shirt, fingers tentatively resting on his forearm.