Weasley let go of his arm and Draco kept going, his legs no longer feeling like they even belonged to him they were so numb and sore. He could fucking do it though. If Weasley could keep going, then so could Draco, damnit. He wasn’t going to be shown up by the fucking redheaded git. Draco flashed a glance at Hermione; still holding his arm under the pretence of helping him, but her thumb was sliding in a jerky caress over his leather rerebrace.