"Touching," he said dryly, and Hermione could almost feel ice cubes hitting her face. "I’d love to get the hell out of here and be rid of your unbearable existence, but," he gestured with a sweeping wave of his hand at the scrolls and books on the table, "it’s my turn to inventory the material this week. So, with your permission, you’ll have to put up with my maddening presence until I’m finished."