Legilimens [Dramione]

Alone

Draco's words kept ringing in Hermione's mind for days since he left her office.  
And what he had said, moreover, was the thing that bothered her the least about him.

No, it wasn't just the fact that he'd brought up Sirius Black that had ignited her curiosity.

In the brief minutes of their animated conversation Hermione had tried to observe and study Draco Malfoy as much as possible, and had come to an important conclusion: he was a skilled occlumens.

He occluded his thoughts even to himself, and only by concentrating carefully was it possible to catch the imperceptible change in his gaze when his barriers barely gave way.

She wondered where he had learned, while at the same time getting further confirmation of what she had often speculated: occlumency was the key.

If she learn how to close her mind she could, perhaps, master this skill. 

Draco Malfoy used occlumency to keep his thoughts from getting out.  Perhaps she could use it to keep other thoughts from entering.

She convinced herself that she would necessarily need to visit the bookshop in Diagon Alley.

She looked up at the clock on the wall in her office: 8.30 p.m., too late for today. 

Maybe she could try to ask Harry, as far as she knew he had received occlumency lessons from the best in the business, the one who had managed to fool even Voldemort.

Maybe he could offer her some information, if she manages to ask him without raising too many suspicions. 

She wondered why Malfoy was using occlumency, admonishing herself a moment later for thinking of him again.

However, try as she might, she couldn't stop her mind from darting between the Slytherin's occlumency abilities and the case of Sirius Black that he had mentioned.

Knock Knock

She lifted her head from the papers, catching sight of her best friend's messy black hair peeking out beyond the door.

"Come in," she said, with a tired smile on her face.

"Hmm," Harry stepped forward, scanning the piles of papers all around her. "Why don't you come out, instead?"

For Godric, it's eight-thirty

"I have two weeks of backlog to catch up on," gasped the girl, bringing her hands to her temples. 

"And where was it written that you had to catch up on everything in the first two days?" he taunted her.

My God, Hermione, you don't look well.

Hermione looked up indignantly at her friend and her left eyelid fluttered momentarily with stress.

"You're right," she sighed finally, closing the file in front of her and grabbing her bag. "I'll continue tomorrow."

"Oh, I thought it would have been harder to convince you," Harry said, patting her on the back as they left the office.

"I'm just worried about reform for the  werewolves' rights" she huffed as they entered the elevator.

The corridors of the ministry were empty and silent.

*Yeah, weird that they would bring up the discussion so unannounced*.

"I'm glad they brought it up," she sighed, "but I wish I could have been there. I mean, they've been putting it off for months" she ran a hand through her hair, loosening the stiff bun on her head as they left the building. "And they decide to do it right when I'm in the hospital."