"No! I didn't mean that. Just... I mean..." Hermione reaches out to Malfoy's hand - her fingers curl around his, tugging gently, curling and stroking, pleading. He closes his hand automatically, trapping her fingers, rubbing his thumb over the backs of her knuckles as if he can't stop himself from touching her. "For the record I don't care if you think it's...taking advantage, Malfoy, but – but seriously you stupid fucking git, that's just about the farthest thing away from what I want right now. I just...Iwanttobeheld," she whispers in a blurred rush, almost ashamed to admit her weakness and her need. Malfoy eyes her long enough for the silence to grow oppressive, and then sighs in surrender.