Draco spun around guiltily, pointlessly trying to hide the two bottles he'd just thieved from the liquor cabinet behind his back. Hermione sat at the dining room table, where she hadn't been just a second ago; a small pile of silky dark cloth on her lap, and an indecipherable smile hovering on her lips. Draco stared at her wide-eyed, the bottles of liquors behind his back clinking together in his precarious grip. Her hair was pulled back into an untidy bun, and bits stuck out messily out, strands hanging loose around her face. She looked too thin; hollows in her cheeks that shouldn't be there, fingers pale and bony, clasped around the small bundle of material in her lap.