Nott, I
He did look her way again, with tired, hollowed, barely present eyes. For every ounce that it hurt him, to know that his friends were here, observing his downfall, his shame, he needed them. The lone Slytherin, ultimately as dependent on his friends as anyone else. He might have felt pathetic for it if his emotions weren't already strained to breaking.
He didn't know why she was thanking him, though he wondered at part of the truth. He wondered if she knew that he was saving Blaise. He wondered if she cared more about him -- but ultimately it didn't matter. Choices had been made, and regret was for the weak-willed.