He bites down on the doubled up leather belt that she remembers to slip between his teeth without a reminder now, and breathes in short, harsh pants, his uninjured hand shifting down to claw at the bedcovers as she gently sponges the drying blood from the wounds with the whiskey-saturated cloth. It takes longer and seems to hurt more than cleaning his thigh, and she ends up chewing the inside of her cheek bloody by the time she is done. She thinks that Malfoy would be at the point of crying out, only his throat is too raw, and he can't get enough breath. Instead, when she finally lays the bloodied cloth down with hands that shake like leaves in a storm, he is sobbing soundlessly, head twisted to the side to keep the wound on his cheek from being abraded.