Hermione paces her rooms, smoothing a hand down her shirt and jeans as she hesitates, looking here and there. She knows that the guards won't announce Dorian, he'll just be allowed in (as per her orders, only people she names are allowed to come in without having the request put forward first) and she's nervous, on edge, unsure about what to expect with him now. It hadn't been too long since their almost falling out, since the moment that she had seen his soul, and she was suffering for it.

It's not just that she was worried that she would miss the old Dorian, the one she had known for so long, but it was the fear that he would leave her again, an ache in the depth of her heart that made her want to swallow her tongue and keep herself silent. Hermione doesn't want to say something that might go on to upset him or make him feel more uncomfortable around her than he already does.

Finally, she forces herself to sit down, reheating the tea with a quick muttered spell and moving to put out the things they'd need; some freshly made bits of toast and crumpets, her hand brushing over the metal tray before she breathes out.

"Stop being an idiot, Hermione Granger. It's just tea."