"I can't," he says at least, dull and lifeless. "I have to – I have to stay. Those are my orders." There is no emotion or inflection in his voice – he is an automaton, but that the planes of muscle in his back go stiff beneath Hermione's hands. She bites her lip, and then shifts awkwardly around so that she is almost beside him, trying not to touch anything with her greasy hands.