"You...you...why?" she asked him, voice shaking and sharp. But she couldn’t blame him for all of it, and in her head she was repeating the question to herself – why did she let him do it? Why did she enjoy it? Why, why, why? Draco ran his hand through his hair, retreating unsteadily to the other end of the narrow pantry and staring at her, grey eyes dazed and filled with the same distress and lack of comprehension that Hermione felt.