She listens to him move about in the bathroom, and it's so strange to think that in a couple of nights, this will never happen again. She will never be here again. Never listen to him wash dried blood down the drain, the taps running hard to cover his hitching breaths as he tries not to unravel. Never feel the constant fear ease slightly at knowing he was with her after a long day alone. Hermione sits and stares at her hands – fingers picking at the hem of Malfoy's trousers – and thinks that she should be happier.