"Hermione, please – please, just shut up and help me to the bathroom," he wrenched out past the pain into his palm, absolutely flaming with bloody humiliation, and there was a long, long pause as she considered it, and then she stood. Took his elbow and helped him up, and he felt ridiculous standing there swaying as she looped his maimed arm around her shoulders. They started a slow, unsteady shuffle toward the door, stuck in awkward silence. Draco supposed it had been too much to hope for, that getting back together would make everything come up unicorns and fairy-dust. No, he didn't get delicious bloody reunion sex and perfect, passionate exchanges of feeling – he got to hobble to the loo with his throat aching in pain and his face burning at the indignity of it.