With shoes on and one last look in the mirror, Hermione headed down the hallway to the stairs. The portraits took the opportunity to hiss and call her names as she wobbled by, righting herself on the credenza.

She'd found her footing by the time she descended the stairs, but the sight of Draco watching her from the ground almost sent her stumbling again. His eyes dripped over her face, dress, and legs before tearing away and staring down at the marble.

He looked rested, and despite the way his gaze had lingered, he seemed to have his mask in place. She clicked down the stairs in her heels, awkwardly listening to every step until she reached the bottom.

He didn't immediately lead her out, so she asked, "Is it the same entry every time? Through the main gates?"

After a beat, he nodded at the floor, almost as if snapping out of a trance.

"What do I need to know about last week?" she asked tightly. "What will come up?"

He swallowed and said, "Everything was the same until the Lounge. The Great Hall, the champagne, the dinner."

The images flashed up in front of her eyes again — red lips on his, painted nails running through his hair, Draco's fingers dipping underneath her knickers—

"And the Lounge?" she asked as evenly as possible, shoving the pictures aside. "What do I need to know?"

"You won't be asked to do anything… Anything more." He looked up at her for the first time since she landed at the bottom of the stairs, and his eyes flickered. She caught something almost guilty in them before his mask clicked back into place. "The Lounge will be infinitely tamer tonight."

"Why?"

His jaw tensed. "There was an incident last week."

Her eyebrows shot up as he turned on his heel and headed to the door, as if he could just end the conversation there. She hurried after him, nearly jogging to catch up.

"'Incident?' Does this have to do with Italy?"

He pushed through the Manor doors, and as he swept down the stairs, she could swear she heard him mumble, "Brightest Witch of Her Age."

"Yes," he said. "The Dark Lord has forbidden the use of Flint's potion at Edinburgh. Last week, it was misused on the Italian Minister's niece."

Hermione stumbled down the Manor steps, following behind him on the stone path as her mind worked at breakneck speed.

"Antonio Bravieri didn't support the Dark Lord, did he?" she asked as he moved briskly down the path. "That's why Giuliana was taken and given to a Death Eater. To coerce him into changing his mind." Draco didn't respond, but she didn't need him to. "Bravieri found out what happened to Giuliana at the party, came to rage at the Dark Lord, and was killed for it."

They were steps away from the gate. Draco's pace didn't falter until Hermione reached out and grabbed his arm, spinning him back. He met her with a lazy expression.