She blinked, and it was like he swam back into focus. Draco Malfoy stood next to her, staring down at her with concern.

Her bookshelf cracked, and the texts fell open at her feet.

She sucked in a deep breath, and his bare chest, his broken ribs, his bloody lips, his cool eyes — they all fell off the shelf.

Her eyes stung, as if she'd looked directly into the sun. She pinched them closed and pressed her hand over her forehead, blocking out the light.

She felt the advanced Occlumency book slither away from her lap, lifted away from her.

"You're too expressive for this specific technique," he muttered. "It will be obvious that something is wrong with you." She listened to him turn the page, and then close the book with a snap. "You skipped intermediate studies?"

"Of course," she said, her lips pulling in the ghost of a smirk. Her head spun. She felt like she'd been awake for days. "Did you expect anything less of me?"

Her eyes slipped open, staring at the pond through the window again. She tried to grasp onto the idea of still waters, calming her racing mind, but her energy was depleted.

"It can be exhausting," he said, barely a whisper.

She nodded, drowsiness in her veins. "I'll just ask the kitchens for tea."

A pause. And then: "You don't drink coffee anymore?"

Her mind startled to attention. She looked up at him. He was flipping through the pages of another advanced Occlumency book, his question floating innocently between them.

She did prefer coffee. In fact, she only drank tea with honey because she'd seen him drinking it for the past seven years. Some insane notion to feel closer to him.

"We have coffee," he offered softly, eyes still on the book.

"Thank you. I'll… I'll ask for coffee next time." She wanted to pry, to dig into this observation. But she had more pressing questions while she had him here. "How is Pansy?"

She watched his eyes harden. A swift close of the book. "She's dead."

"How?"

"She was killed for her disloyalty to the Dark Lord."

She frowned, watching him closely. "Those were Zabini's exact words as well. Curious."

His eyes snapped to her. "When did you speak to Blaise?" There was a bite in his words, and she felt the ice from his eyes.

"He stopped by. Entered my room and drank my tea without a care in the world." She shifted in her seat, lifting a brow at Draco's dark expression. "How did you adjust the wards after your aunt's visit?"

His jaw clenched. "It's based on intent to harm."

"And you still won't tell me why it is that the Malfoy family has no intent to harm me?"

His lips pressed together, refusing to answer. She sighed, shoulders sagging.

"Well, if you could also include 'intent to pester,' that would be much appreciated."

The blood rushed to her head as she moved to stand. The Occlumency had drained her far more than she'd thought, and she stumbled back against the arm of the chair.