He had a monogrammed handkerchief. “Of course you do,” Hermione said, and actually laughed for a few moments, the sound hallow as she took it and gently wiped her eyes. She wore no makeup, and so his precious linen would not be marred by her mascara or blush. She held onto it, not totally sure if she was suppose to offer it back, or was supposed to take it home and wash it herself. Draco had wise words, but Hermione knew that she did not have it in her to allow herself happiness until others were safe. Besides, what she’d always assumed would be the source of her happiness had no interest in her. He had burned her arm. Not of his volition, but it was hard to push out of her mind.
“I can’t even let people fold my socks or file for me. I couldn’t… just let the DA go. Everyone wants something from us. They expect… Harry, Ron, and I to disappear for a few months and then pop back in with the answers to it all... I don’t’ think that they realize that half the time, we were flying blind. And at least then… what we did know lead us to a clear answer on what to do. Destroy the horcruxes, destroy the Dark Lord. What are we supposed to do now?”