Why was she catering to Potter’s bloody unreasonable whims? This was none of the Golden Boy’s business. This isn’t easy for her, Draco told himself. She wants us all to get along like one big happy family, he told himself, bitterness saturating his mental voice; there was no way that was ever going to happen. Fat fucking chance now, anyway. Potter wasn’t going to listen to Hermione’s faltering, embarrassed attempts at reasoning after he’d walked in on Draco plastered to Hermione’s luscious body.