But every time Hermione took a shower, she still automatically went through her brief ritual examination of the cursed scars – and as her fingers traced the letters, she remembered vividly for a moment the warm damp feeling of her jeans after wetting herself during Cruciatus. While Draco watched. Remembered the way her throat had gone raw from screaming. And Draco had done nothing. Remembered how she had wanted to die. He hadn’t killed her – although that was one thing she was glad of now. She remembered Draco terrified and revolted by the torture happening in front of him. Remembered the horror Draco had briefly shown at the idea that Bellatrix was offering Hermione up for him to rape. But Hermione’s memory was coloured and altered by what she knew of Draco now, and pity and love softened the muddled feelings of resentment and anger toward him that her memory tried to resurrect.