So when they go down into the garden, Hermione pretends to be cold but waves off a warming charm – pressing close to him instead with pleading eyes. And as she knew he would, Malfoy relents with what seems like relief, and holds her much closer than she needs to be held for mere warmth. It makes her feel good, and safe, to be tucked up against him like this, soaking in the faint scent of his aftershave, and the wiry strength in his arm. She smiles to herself as they meander toward the maze, and leans her head against his shoulder. He smells good all over, fresh from a bath after his night's work. But those thoughts are bad, so she turns her mind firmly to the good.