Scone Strategies

When Hermione looked up, wrist deep in the process of crumbling cold butter into her flour mixture, Draco had stopped pacing.

“You said you liked the blueberry scones. From the café. It seemed like they were a part of your strategy. I thought I’d…” she trailed off. Ridiculousness robbed her of confidence.

Draco’s silver eyes rotated between several points of interest: her face, her hands in the mixing bowl, and the parchment still crushed in his grip. “I don’t know that the scones were part of any strategy, per se. But I do—like them. That is.”

“Good. So I’ll just”—she jostled the flour and butter in her bowl in a sad pantomime of mixing—“while you read.”