"It's something, isn't it?" she asked him, voice all strained and tangled with joy and hope and a twinge of worry, and Draco just sat there unable to believe her. Why the hell would the Order speak for him? Why would they do a damn thing for him? He didn't deserve it, wasn't worth it, and Merlin, it didn't seem natural or probable that the Order would make any sort of effort for him. Draco Malfoy. He was just... He ducked his head, rubbing his hand over his face as if that would somehow help clear his mind, chest tight, feeling light-headed, dazed. The bed dipped and he glanced up to see Hermione sitting there beside him with Teddy still cuddled close, watching Draco worriedly.