The Inspectorate for Elfish Labour Conditions [Dramione]

3 | Regarding Proportionate Working Hours

Hermione blinked and immediately lowered her gaze. "No, I am not. I was just...taking a walk. Enjoying the silence..." She didn't know why she included the last words, but to her surprise Malfoy gave an understanding nod. Perhaps this was why he'd been out here tonight, too.

Her eyes were drawn back to the informal state of his hair, which lit up in the silver moonlight. Somehow it suited him, she found, until she realised her train of thoughts and hastily averted them someplace safer. "Do you still use the Prefects' Bathroom?"

Malfoy's gaze trailed from his towel to Hermione. Hadn't that been obvious?

"As a matter of fact, I do," he said slowly. "Since technically I still am a Prefect..."

After some hesitation, he added in a rare moment of candour, "I'm not allowed to give and take points and impose punishments, though."

Hermione's eyebrows raised in surprise, and biting his lip in regret, Malfoy decided he'd already said too much. He nodded curtly, and continued on his way.

Hermione watched him go with slight disappointment, smelling the scent of soap from the Prefects' Bathroom on him as he brushed past her, head bowed to watch his step. Then he suddenly stopped and looked over his shoulder.

"So...a Patronus, huh?" His gruff voice held a hint of admiration and something else she couldn't pinpoint.

Hermione's face lit up. Apparently, her Christmas greeting had meant more to him than she'd thought. "Yes...if done correctly, they can deliver messages from the caster. A Patronus is unique to the witch or wizard conjuring it and isn't hindered by physical obstacles. It's the perfect form of trustworthy communication."

Malfoy nodded thoughtfully at this. "It's an otter," he established.

Hermione tilted her head. "My favourite animal."

Their gazes met. Only the sound of a drop of water falling into a puddle somewhere broke the silence between them.

"I wonder..." Malfoy then mumbled, seemingly to himself, but the moment the words had left his mouth, he shook his head dismissively. "Never mind."

He turned to leave and Hermione bit her lip. Somehow she wasn't prepared to let him leave just yet.

"I wonder what your Patronus would look like." Her clear voice echoed through the quiet corridor, and the Slytherin froze in his steps.

"Leave it, Granger," Malfoy snarled, but it didn't sound convincing. He hesitated, still not moving from his spot as he subconsciously clenched his towel.

Hermione knew she'd struck the right chord. The Malfoy standing before her was different from the one she'd known for the past seven years. Over a few coincidental collaborations at Potions class, Hermione had come to know him as a calm, reserved young man who seemed to have renounced his old ways, sobered from the beliefs he'd grown up with. He wasn't asking for it, but still he sought another chance. A chance she felt he deserved. He still hadn't left, held back by something stronger than his will to push on.

Finally, he opened his mouth. "What do you think?"

It was the first civil question he'd ever asked her, and his grey eyes held hers with a tense gaze. Despite himself, he obviously cared for her answer.

A smile ghosted over Hermione's lips as she thought his question over. "A dragon."

A scoff involuntarily escaped him.