“You’re—”

Hermione let out a frustrated breath, hands slightly trembling as she smoothed the pink and white bandaid over your cheek. Maybe she was upset because of all the blood. Maybe she was upset because her girlfriend was hurt.

“You’re an idiot. An impulsive, reckless idiot.”

Her hand fell to the curve of your jaw, cupping your face tenderly whilst more blood bled from your lip. She wiped and cleaned that next, ignoring the uncomfortable hint of pain that fell over your features. Her lips were pulled down in a faint frown, focusing—thinking, as she does.

This was all because of Malfoy. Of the way he finally set you off. You’d had enough of the way he treated Hermione specifically, of course.

Harry was away, Ron was unconvincingly telling Draco to piss off, and before long the Slytherin’s name-calling and useless threats came to an end as you shockingly punched him square in the nose.

Hermione yelped your name, wands were drawn, yet Malfoy’s group was on you before you had a second chance to defend yourself. Some were hesitant to retaliate because you were a girl, yet some were caught in the moment. Malfoy didn’t do anything except hold his bleeding nose and stammer in shock.

Now here you two were, tucked in a quiet corner of the courtyard while Hermione examined the dark bruises and cuts along your face and lip.

“You really shouldn’t have done that,” she mutters again, laying another bandaid over a deeper cut on your jaw before leaning in to brush her lips against it, as if kissing it better was just the magic you needed.

“Are you… sure you don’t want to just go to Madam Pomfrey?” she mumbles, surprisingly softer.