Draco. He'd helped her last night. And maybe he'd help her again. Her heart thumped with the possibilities.

She threw on a jumper and denims and headed down the hall to Draco's door. A few knocks and several long minutes of waiting — and nothing. She wasn't surprised to find him absent, as he was rarely where she needed him to be.

His study was empty. The drawing room was empty.

But when she hurried down the stairs and pushed open the doors to the library, the sight stopped her in her tracks. Texts were strewn across the chairs, the floor, the small end tables. A dozen books hovered in front of their shelves, waiting to be plucked by whoever had called upon them from the book finder.

Hermione's lips parted at the sound of pages turning quickly from deep in the stacks. And then— "Still not hungry."

She blinked. She peered behind her shoulder to see if Mippy or Narcissa were standing there with a tray. As she turned back to the stacks, Draco poked his head from around a shelf, glaring. When he saw it was her, his frown vanished, and he snapped his book shut. He pulled a quill from behind his ear — a habit from school — and twisted it between his fingers.

"Granger," he said. "I thought you were Mother."

His eyes whipped around the room, as if just taking in the disarray she'd walked into. She held her breath as she studied him, watching the flush creep up his neck. He dropped the arm holding the book and tilted it so slightly behind him, and her eyes followed the movement.

"What are you researching?"

"Just looking for a solution to a problem," he clipped. He swallowed and ran a hand through his hair.

She nodded slowly, undeterred. She moved a few steps closer. "I wanted to thank you for your kindness last night."

He stared at her stiffly as she gazed up at him. His eyes different from the warm ones that had locked on hers last night, in his bedroom.

"You're welcome."

She waited for more, but nothing came. "And I wanted to—"

"Granger, I'm in the middle of something. Can this wait?"

She startled at the bite in his tone. There was a tension in his posture, a squaring of his shoulders that she recognized from Quidditch matches. Determination.

Suddenly she felt very silly. Thanking him for taking care of her while she cried. Thinking something had shifted. Her eyes prickled, and she snapped her mouth shut.

His eyes instantly softened. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," she replied, watching his shoulders release. The burning behind her eyes faded into a slow throb. "Exhausted." She stood surrounded by all of his books and notes and messy piles. "Is this 'problem' anything I could help with?"

She inched toward the table filled with notes, eyeing an open book on the edge. Draco was there in the blink of an eye, slamming it closed. She managed to catch a glimpse of runes and Germanic translations scribbled on parchment before he swiftly stepped in front of her.