conversation and judge me for wanting to let go for one fucking minute! I’ve been so Gods damned worried about you, you idiot! But every time I’ve tried to talk, tried to approach you, you run! What in Godric is that about? Huh? I’m not the one who has clearly changed their mind here, Malfoy. As far as I’m concerned you’re the last person that has a say in who and who doesn’t get to put their hands on me." Hermione’s chest was heaving, out of breath from what she’d been holding in for nearly two weeks. Her fists were now clenched at her sides, her shoulders squared and tense. 