"Yeah. Well, she lost her lower leg to a curse that y–" Hermione broke off, eyes glued to the neck of her Muggle drink, idly pushing the bottle back and forth over the table between her hands. "Tricia couldn’t reattach it or anything – the dark arts, you know. Destroyed it." She sounded so tired, and Draco wanted to just pull her away from the alcohol and lead her to his bed. Tuck her in and stroke her hair until she went to sleep. She needed rest, not booze.