Yellow:
"Are you okay?" Hermione leaned over Draco to survey his newly-gained bruise.
"No. It fuckin' hurts. Bloody Hell," groaned Draco.
"Well, that's what you get for playing quidditch with the guys. I always knew quidditch's a dangerous sport." She poked his bruise just to prove her point.
"Ow! Stop, it hurts!" He shield his arm from her. "Hermione!"
"Fine. Let's get you some ice."
"Why can't you just heal it like us normal people?"
"What do you mean? Normal people do use ice."
"We know magic, Hermione. Why can't you just, you know, heal me?"
"Because you deserved it. I'm going to have that bruise remind you this lesson."
"Nothing's wrong with quidditch. It's a sport. Everyone loves it." Hermione gave him a look. "Okay. Maybe not everyone. But it's a well-loved sport. There's books, movies, and even newspaper articles about it!"
"I just don't want you to get hurt."
"But people get hurt all the time. You can't prevent it. If you don't go for the risks, you will miss out in life. I'm not saying you have to go for all the risks, but there are some risks worth risking for."
"... I guess... you have a point."
"So... heal my bruise?" He held out his arm to her. Hermione poked his bruise just for fun one more time before she vanished the icky-yellow-colored bruise. Then she gave him a sloppy kiss on his cheek.
"There. Happy?" Draco hugged her from behind.
"Very."