They had fallen asleep that way—his head resting in her lap, their hands still intertwined. Hermione stayed perfectly still, unsure if it was to avoid waking him or to avoid confronting whatever strange shift had taken place between them. Her thoughts whirled, but she couldn't bring herself to pull away.

Suddenly, a sharp crack echoed through the cold air. Hermione tensed as the sound reverberated around them.

"Master Draco, Mipsy is here," came a small, high-pitched voice.

Malfoy jerked awake, pulling himself from her lap with an abruptness that left her feeling strangely cold in his absence. He blinked, disoriented, then turned to her, his stormy grey eyes locking onto hers with a brief intensity that made her chest tighten.

"Master Draco?" the voice called again, this time with more urgency.

He cleared his throat, still looking at her as if searching for something. "Over here," he finally answered, his voice hoarse.

A tiny house-elf scurried toward the bars of the cell, holding a potion bottle and a blanket in its arms. Mipsy, Hermione realized, was one of the Malfoy family's elves. The elf pushed the items through the narrow gap in the bars, her movements hurried and nervous. Malfoy accepted them without a word, wrapping the blanket around his trembling frame and clutching the potion bottle with shaking hands.

To Hermione's surprise, Mipsy's large eyes then turned toward her. "Is there anything Miss Granger is needing?" the elf asked, her voice meek but sincere.

Hermione blinked, taken aback. She had never expected a Malfoy family elf to speak to her, let alone with such concern. Before she could wrap her mind around the situation, Mipsy was already thanking her. "Thank you for helping Master Draco," the elf said, smiling up at her with an unexpected warmth that softened the tension in the room.

Hermione hesitated, unsure of how to respond. "Uh... perhaps a book," she muttered, the words escaping her before she could stop them. "Or something to write with. I'd like to escape the darkness and silence of the cell, if only for a little while."

Mipsy's face lit up with understanding. "Mipsy will try to find something small for Miss," she said, bowing her head in a gesture of respect that Hermione found oddly touching. "Mipsy is very sorry for what they is doing to Miss and Master Draco."

Before either of them could respond, the elf disappeared with another crack, leaving the cell once again eerily quiet.

Malfoy sat in silence for a moment, still gripping the blanket as though it were the only thing tethering him to reality. His eyes were distant, the weight of whatever had happened to him upstairs still heavy in the air. Hermione didn't press him—she knew enough about trauma to recognize when words would only make things worse.

After a long stretch of silence, Draco finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't ask her to bring you anything."

Hermione glanced at him, surprised by the admission. "I didn't think you had," she replied gently.

"Maybe she knows that sometimes kindness isn't about loyalty," she said softly. "Sometimes it's just the right thing to do."

Draco didn't respond, but for the briefest moment, something in his expression shifted, a flicker of something unguarded. Neither of them spoke after that, and in the stillness that followed, it felt as though the world outside the cell faded just a little bit, leaving only the two of them