"Honestly, I'm not sure," Draco admitted, a rather unusually candid reply.

Removing his gloves, he stuffed them into the pockets of his wool coat, once quite posh but purchased second-hand. He took a looping, indirect route around the shop, scanning shelves of impeccable stock and organization. He'd have expected nothing less, from her.

"I'm in need of employment. Or at the very least, something to pass the bloody time. I'm going out of my mind with boredom, in this place, though you seem to have settled in, like a regular native. I thought you might be the one to ask."