Draco looked up.  He'd been sitting at a long table set near one window of a room so large it took her breath away.  Or perhaps it only seemed big because there was nothing in it.  The heavy wooden table where he sat, a narrow bed against one wall, the dried remains of the iris she'd given him so long ago the only thing that passed for decoration.  Papers were spread out over the table and before she could read the warning expression on his face she walked over and picked one of them up.