"You didn’t want... Oh. Oh fuck. I thought you – I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t – fuck. Fuck, I’m sorry." Draco limped back from her, pressing against the shelves on the other side of the pantry, as if he was trying to get as far from Hermione as possible, features paling, and horrified. She looked at him, bewildered at the strength of his reaction. Did he really think Hermione would be happy with what had just taken place? That she would be happy with declarations of hatred and contempt, and the confusion of their mutual madness? And then horror crossed Hermione’s own features as she realised what she had made Draco think he’d done.