She sat in the chair.  Perhaps, she thought, she should describe it as she draped across the chair. She couldn't remember feeling so relaxed in all her life.  Malfoy, on the other hand, looked tenser than he had since she'd arrived at his giant, horrible manor and begged him to save her. "I'm hardly going to tell you you're some horrible monster," she said.  She'd planned to go on and point out he'd been a child, same as she had, that his being drafted into that war had been unforgivable on the part of the adults.  She'd planned to tell him they'd just been in utter harmony with one another and how could he think she'd be able to be anything but sympathetic to the ways he'd suffered.  