"What do you think you are doing?" Tom asked.
Hermione looked up from his desk. She had all the drawers open, files strewn about, and a coffee cup leaving a brown ring on the day's Prophet. She didn't even have the grace to look ashamed or embarrassed to be caught snooping.
"Abraxas," she said. "I'm trying to find out how he died."
"Dragon Pox," Tom said. He began to gather the folders up, his irritation growing because she hadn't made any effort to keep them in any sort of order. "That's common knowledge."
"But did you kill him?" the witch demanded.
Tom didn't even stop what he was doing. She'd piled years of obsessive record keeping every which way, and it was so out of character he wanted to hit her. Of course, if he did that, she'd likely set his balls on fire so he restrained himself. "Why do you care?" he asked. "He's been dead for years."
"Did you do it?" she pressed.
"Of course I did," he snapped. Honestly, she'd mixed the Malfoy folders and the Lestrange folders up so badly it would take all night to get them right again. "Are you going to help me clean this up or not?"
A/N - Thank you to doctor-molly-hooper-holmes for the prompt on Tumblr