She didn't know where to start. A thousand different questions ran through her mind. None of them seemed important enough to ask. Draco wasn't in a hurry to speak. Each step he took in her direction was a struggle. Acting quickly before his legs could give out, Hermione rushed to the table to pull out a chair for him. He only just made it in time. Almost immediately he began to relax. Unsure what to do next, she busied her hands with brewing tea. Spring might be upon them, but the nights were still chilly. His eyes, gradually becoming less guarded and fierce the longer he was seated, never ceased their frank surveil of her frame. And still, neither spoke.