The muscles in Draco’s jaw jumped and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, eyes seeking out hers. He looked like death warmed up; tired and worn, dark shadows around his eyes, and the yellowing bruises leftover from the mission a patchwork on his pale skin. The Dark Mark stood out starkly on his arm, and Hermione fought the sudden urge to yank his sleeve back down and cover it. That would not help her point. She felt shivery and cold. Draco’s eyes were so terribly grave and sad.