Draco was nervous. Hermione had been acting strange ever since the visit to the manor and he couldn’t help but blame himself. There were so many things he wanted to show her. That spot in the garden where in springtime the blossoms rained down on you like pink snow. His favourite chair in the library where the sunlight streamed through the tall windows, and he would sit for hours on end. He shivered when he thought of her in his bed or lying naked in his bath, her curls floating on the water.