He gulped and didn't finish the thought, trying not to let the dream-memory loom in his mind again and mostly failing. Flashes of the pain, the humiliation, the fucking heart-breaking betrayal of it encroached on his mind and he swore to himself, angrily rubbing the tears from his cheeks. He carefully pulled his maimed arm out from beneath Hermione and she made a soft mumbling noise and shifted in her sleep, face hidden beneath a swathe of hair, and he was relieved that he at least hadn't woken her up by screaming aloud. He'd done that several times and there was a deep mortification to it, which Draco did not enjoy.