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Summary
Hermione crept inside the library at Malfoy Manor as quietly as possible. It was as good a place as any to catch her metaphorical breath, before she had to plaster on a fake smile and rejoin the ball to keep up appearances. Maybe she could find that book on the origins of arithmancy Draco mentioned the last time they were here? Hermione doubted she’d be back at the Manor any time soon. If ever. Not after tonight.
Making her way to her favourite spot in the back corner, Hermione was taken aback to discover Draco collapsed in one of the wing-backed chairs; wearily rubbing his eyes with one hand, as the other gripped an empty glass tightly. Notes of firewhisky lingered in the air.
He hadn’t noticed her.
Recovering from her surprise as best she could, Hermione deliberately kept her voice light. “Malfoy? Why on Earth are you hiding in the library? This is your Engagement Ball. Shouldn’t you be out there accepting fawning praise from Sacred Twenty-Eight luminaries for doing your part in keeping the Malfoy family tree as devoid of branches as possible?”