"Granger," he says in greeting as he shuts his eyes and sways back into the door, toeing his shoes off with a sigh, breaking his established routine. She stares in silence and his eyes flick back up to hers in her absence of greeting. She manages the barest hint of a smile. It feels strange to speak whenever she does, because she does it so little, but she says his name because he seems to expect a greeting in return, and she doesn't want to seem rude when he is being polite. And it is so odd, Hermione thinks, that even in captivity she still worries about social niceties – how stupid of her. But...old habit dies hard.