And how could she find out if Nagini was still alive?

Hermione had just turned to explore the back wall when she heard the doors to the library open. Narcissa must be back. She wondered what time it was.

She reshelved the three dark books she'd pulled down, memorizing their locations, and went to her teacup, flipping back through her wizarding fiction books and peering between the bookshelves to the library doors.

A pair of shoulders and a trim waist under a black jumper, black trousers and boots, and short blond locks that did not belong to Narcissa Malfoy. She slapped her hand over her mouth, watching as Draco hummed something to the book finder.

She hadn't seen him this close since the Room of Requirement. Since the hallways after Harry died. His hair fell over his eyes as he waited for the book finder to glow. A book on a shelf three feet from her slowly pulled into the aisle, hovering, waiting to be plucked. Hermione watched between the stacks as Draco turned towards the upper-landing, long legs carrying him quickly in her direction.

She clutched her books to her chest, waiting, breathing. It was like a car crash. A flying accident waiting to happen. She should say something. Announce her presence. Maybe drop something—

He turned the corner, swiveling toward her, and she saw the exact moment he registered her presence. Like an electric shock, seizing all of his muscles. Her tongue was dry as his mouth opened in a silent gasp. He braced himself on the bookcase nearest him.

And then very quickly it all went away. His mouth closed, his shoulders dropped, and his eyes shut off. He stared at her.

She felt her chest begging for air, the covers of the books pressing into her fingers.

"Your mother brought me here," her voice breathed, barely audible.

He took in her white jumper and denims, then back to her eyes.

"Have you finished with all of your other books?" he asked, voice hollow and low. He lifted a taunting brow.

She didn't know what he meant for a moment. She brought no possessions with her. Clearly he remembered this.

"The books in your room," he clarified, sending her a look that she recalled from Hogwarts whenever he needed to explain something to Crabbe or Goyle.

"N-no." That was all she said, watching him scowl at her. He shifted, like he was ready to run. He moved swiftly to the center aisle, grabbed his book from the air, and pivoted away to the landing stairs. Before he disappeared, she burst out, "What am I expected to do?"

He turned around to face her. His fingers twitched. "Do?"

"Yes," she said tightly, feeling a familiar headache behind her eye that only Draco Malfoy could bring on. "Should I... join the elves in the kitchen? Work the grounds? Or maybe assist your mother with... whatever it is she does?"

She listed all the things she hoped for. The things that she could stomach doing for the rest of her life. He continued to stare at her, and she wondered if she was supposed to suggest other tasks she could be doing.