"Sorry. Sorry," he says thickly, and sniffs wet. "Sorry. I..." But there is no excuse, and she is glad he sees that, trailing away to silence without giving one. His lips press together and he makes a little shaky inhale-exhale that sounds like he is trying not to cry, and on instinct Hermione lays her hand lightly over his on the desk. She isn't thinking at all, just giving comfort as she would to anyone she knew, who she wasn't comfortable enough with to hug. Her fingertips are cool and his are warm. Their eyes meet, and lock. This isn't just anyone; it is Malfoy, and her fingers are settled gentle over his on the desk, and she sucks in a sudden, dizzying breath at the realisation.