"Protect me?" Hermione fills in the blank bitterly, with a wet snuffle and a hiccup, not knowing whether she should appreciate the anguish and guilt he is radiating, or be angry at him for even hinting at the way her ordeal has affected him. Somehow, it's the anger that comes out as she looks up at him, acutely aware of all the places she hurts, all the ways she was tortured. "Of course you can't. I don't fucking expect you to, Malfoy!"