Draco Malfoy sat at the kitchen table covered in its floral tablecloth looking as if it wasn't unusual for him to pop up uninvited to the Welsh woman's home for tea. His wand lay in plain sight in the middle of the table next to the steaming teapot, proof that he wasn't there to harm her. Hermione wasn't so certain. He'd been taught tricks by the same master. At her entrance, he calmly looked up, met her eye, and nodded once in greeting. His silent offer to join him at the table was refused. She might be willing to listen to what he had to say if he said it quickly, but she was already planning to bolt.