Hermione's eyes slid to Draco, watching as he stared his mother down, face white and drawn, the emotion in his grey eyes shuttered and closed away. "Yes. You were right. Hermione and I are...very much in love," Draco got out at last, a dry, humourless smile on his lips, and Hermione didn't know whether she wanted to kiss him or slap him. To hear him say that they loved each other and they were together so openly, so calmly to his mother was wonderful, in a way. And yet he was also using what they had to hurt his mother, and see if it would bait Narcissa to anger. And that grated on her terribly. It cheapened their relationship, to be used for that purpose. And yet, she couldn't blame Draco for wanting to do it.