"Yeah. That bad." He took a fortifying mouthful of firewhiskey, heaved a breath, and braced himself to say it with blunt matter-of-factness. The truth, unadulterated – and he couldn't help thinking what Hermione thought about the words, and whether Pansy had broken something precious between them, and how many blows could they take before it all just fell apart and died? He took another sip and swallowed. Opened his mouth. "Pansy was telling Hermione some of the things I used to say about Hermione, when we were back at school."