"Do you have the emotional range of a teaspoon? Perhaps I shouldn’t even ask, because you don’t  care!" She yelled, her eyes wild. She was acutely aware that this outburst fell far into the anti-feminist category of "emotional woman tantrum’, but that concern was far from her mind now. Because the contempt she’d long harbored for Draco seemed to leak out now. It had been masked by the tension that had formed while sharing a room on the ship, but now, he wasn’t her surprisingly attractive co-worker, the man who’d kissed her against the glass of the viewing room, the boy who’d told her the sweet memory he had with his late mother. He wasn’t Draco.