"You get used to it," he says dully, ragged and choked with pain as they take one halting step after another. "After a while you just...get used to it. Not that it ever stops – ah! – stops making you feel like a – shit fuck nggh – a monster." Hermione doesn't know how Malfoy lives with the weight of it; with the guilt and the self-loathing. Suddenly the habit she suspects Malfoy had before she was captured, of drinking himself into a stupor every night, seems perfectly reasonable. "I'm sorry, Granger," he gets out, as he takes another limping, pain-filled step.