Hermione stood naked and panting with nerves and effort, feeling oddly self-conscious as Draco kicked his jeans and boxers off impatiently and ripped his shirt over his head. Merlin, he was thin – too thin and pale, ribs visible, muscles wiry, his cock jutting out in front of him, and, well, he didn't seem self-conscious at all. Hermione bit her lip and grinned half-nervously, taking a step forward and sweeping her fingers hesitantly over the swirling scars Bellatrix had left on his abdomen. Draco flinched back like her touch stung him, and grabbed her wrist, yanking her fingers from his scars.