Pansy hummed uncertainly, obviously not believing his flippancy was genuine, but she didn't say anything. Draco's eyes drifted to Hermione, barely visible in the darkness. She sat with Potter and Weasley still, a seated silhouette on the grass, and her posture seemed stiff. Glanced his way and then whipped her head away, shoulders hunching up a little. Draco frowned, wondering what was wrong, and then Pansy sighed and nuzzled closer into Draco's chest, her muscles relaxing as his warmth soaked into her, and Draco realised. Shit. Hermione thought that he and Pansy were... Oh fuck. He sighed. Lately it seemed he never could catch a fucking break.