When Draco pulled open the door, Hermione met his eyes immediately. Even without Harry and Ron as a support system, she wasn't about to let him know how unnerved she was by everything - especially having to come to him of all people for answers. "Malfoy," Hermione returned his greeting, the syllables clipped as she entered the apartment. Glancing around, she took in a breath. She never would have expected being alone in a room with Malfoy - of her volition. But even if she didn't trust him... it was nice to know that someone she was familiar with had made it through the war and knew information about it.
"Thanks," Hermione responded to Draco's invitation to sit down. She delicately took a seat on the sofa, brown eyes looking up to the blond man. He didn't look that different, which was more than she could have said for the Harry that was here. He had looked younger and less... world-weary than the one she had last seen. This Draco didn't look far off from the one she'd last remembered.
"It wasn't far past Christmas where I'm from," she figured she would get directly into why she'd come here. Hermione didn't see Draco has much of a small-talker anyway. "1997, I think," she added on thoughtfully, as she glanced downward and pushed her hair behind her ear. Her attention snapped back to Draco almost immediately though, "What was happening then? On your side?" she challenged, her tone slightly accusatory. She noticed it, however, and had the courtesy to look slightly sheepish. She needed to be polite and she didn't honestly want to be waspish to him when he was being nice enough to give her information. "I mean, with the Death Eaters and Voldemort. Everything else. Did you go back to Hogwarts?"