"I – I'm fine, Malfoy," she says as soon as she can, but her voice still wobbles with emotion. "Can you just...hang on? Just a second. I'm coming." She manages to get a drawer open with her tightly bound hands and find a pair of good, sharp scissors, fumbling them up in her numbed fingers with great difficulty. "Get it together, Hermione," she tells herself harshly as she catches sight of herself the mirror, pale and stricken. Malfoy needs her to help him, to tend to his wounds, not to pointlessly beat herself up. So she leaves the safety of the bathroom to face the man she tortured.