Hermione’s hands scrabbled and grabbed fistfuls of Draco’s shirtfront, her face ended up buried into his chest, and he held her tightly and shushed her as she cried. Rubbed her back firm and soothing. Pressed his lips on top of her head – not quite a kiss, just pressure, his breath hot on her scalp. She didn’t care that he was Draco Malfoy, ex-Death Eater and obnoxious arsehole. He was here. They stood there clinging to each other for Merlin knew how long, until Hermione’s sobs finally began ebb away.