Draco was deeply absorbed in a thick and dusty book in the Restricted Section about body modification curses, partly because he wondered if it would make for an interestingly gruesome lecture and partly because he still couldn't quite get past the novelty of being allowed to be here, in the Restricted Section, unsupervised, whenever he wanted. He was on quite good terms with most of his colleagues, but Madam Pince would always frighten him a little.

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck raising before he caught the barely-there sound, but his wand was out in a moment. "Nox," he whispered, extinguishing his lantern before whatever it was could get any closer. Then he cast a silent Silencio on himself and backed away from where he'd been reading without even making a sound through the air. A part of him, the cosseted professor side, told him he was being needlessly paranoid, but he'd been hunted often enough in his life to remember what it felt like, and he'd rather feel like an idiot later than be careless now.