"You'll need me," Hermione protests through a yawn, struggling to keep her eyes open. She just wants to stop for a while. She just wants to rest. She wants to go home, to be in an Order safe-house with Harry and Ron and the other Weasleys and...and Malfoy. She wants to get out of here, she wants to be safe, but if Malfoy's not there, the prospect is oddly...unsettling. Wrong. Unacceptable. She can't. The realisation – I can't leave him – feels less like a shock, and more like a puzzle piece sliding into place. If she ever gets out of here, she needs it to be with Malfoy, not leaving him behind here, in this awful place, without her. Anything else is not just an unpleasant thought, but utterly unacceptable.