"I hate you," she says quietly, and real anger surges up in her for a moment – at him, at herself, at the Order, at Voldemort. At everything. "I hate you so fucking much." And then she electrocutes Malfoy again, in the same spot, where the prod has left tiny burn marks on his pale, smooth flesh. This time there are tears slipping down his cheeks when she finishes, and his gasps for air sound wobbly and wet, his lip bleeding where he's bitten through it. And then Hermione does it again. And again, and Malfoy screams and groans and by inches, slowly collapses to the ground, and Hermione would rather the world ended than that she had to do this a moment longer except she keeps doing it. Like an automaton, following the motions, shaking inside hard enough that she feels like she is going to fly apart. He still won't meet her eyes and she is simultaneously glad and furious about that – she doesn't want to see him look at her while she does this, but she deserves to have to see it.