In the morning I ate a quick breakfast and got ready to go to Ollivander's as planned, but my boots were nowhere to be found. Though I didn't think I'd left them outside, that was the only place I hadn't searched yet. I poked my head out the door flap to look around without getting my socks cold and wet. Narcissa sat by the campfire ashes wearing my knit cap again, with my boots right beside her.

"You thief! I know I didn't leave those there," I said, shaking my finger with feigned anger.

She smiled, seeing right through it. "I didn't want you to leave before we could speak," she replied, bringing the boots over and helping me balance as I stuffed my feet into each one.

Without bothering to tie the laces yet, I clomped over to the firepit and sat down. "You know, regular people would just leave a note or something."

"Not regular Slytherins," she retorted.

I ducked my head, not doing a very good job of hiding my smile. "Okay, let's hear it. What's so important that we have to talk about it first thing in the morning?"

"This," she said, holding out an unfamiliar wand.

I hardly dared to hope it was for me, but I couldn't hold back my curiosity or my eager hand. "Whose wand is this?" I asked, sensing that old rush of magic as I grasped it, invigorating as my first wand. It was roughly carved with no designs aside from a few toolmarks to show which end to grip.

"It's yours," she said, "if you want it."

"I mean, whose was it?" I asked, trying not to get too attached yet. "I had to use Bellatrix's wand, and I hated it. This one hasn't done any terrible things, has it?"

Narcissa clasped her hands in her lap. "Definitely not. I know you were about to buy one anyway, but I wanted your new wand to be special. It's blackthorn, a powerful wood for warriors. I made it for you."

My jaw dropped. "You... you what?"

"Eleven inches. Pleasantly bendy. I took the core from your broken wand when the pieces were in my possession."

"You made a wand?" I asked, still shocked.

"I believe I already said that," she snarked, "and it took a great deal of effort to energize the wood and tune it, so I should very much like to know what you think. Please be honest. I won't be offended if you go on to Mr. Ollivander's shop. I know it's not beautiful; my knowledge of wandlore is quite adequate, but I'm bad at whittling."

"I don't need it to be fancy," I told her. "The important thing is whether it's a good match, and I think it is. It feels right." I decided to give it a test run, settling on a perfect idea. I picked up a pebble from the ground, much like the ones I'd been experimenting on yesterday. With a couple of whispered incantations, I transfigured it into a daffodil and gave it to Narcissa.

"A lovely flower for a lovely lady," I said, giving her my most charming smile.

She accepted the flower with a smile that rivaled mine. "You're too sweet." She brought it to her nose for a sniff, and it promptly turned back into a pebble. Startled, she dropped it and burst out laughing. I laughed along, tickled by her reaction.

"How did I not see that coming!" she exclaimed. "My own trick!"

I hummed, full of contentment. "You surprised me too. Thank you, I absolutely love it. How can I repay you?"

Her eyes shone. "I'm so pleased. And don't even think of repaying me. It was a gift."

Despite her words, I resolved to give her something nice in return someday, if I could think of any good ideas.

Narcissa stood as we heard Ron and Harry starting to move around in the tent. "One more thing," she said. "Could you avoid mentioning where you got the wand? I'm not requesting lies, only discretion."

"Alright," I agreed hesitantly, "but will you tell me why? And how it is that you know how to make wands? I have a million questions about this."

"Remind me when we're on the trail. I'll tell you whatever you'd like to know."

I nodded in acceptance and slipped my brand new wand into my sleeve, no longer feeling like part of me was missing, then followed her into the tent to have breakfast.

With yesterday's dementor attack still fresh in our memories, we stayed together as a group that fifth morning. Narcissa walked to my right, with Harry and Ron just ahead of us. The two of them were glad to see my new wand, and it never occurred to them that I might not have gotten it at Ollivander's as planned.

"What's it made of?" Harry said, admiring it as I held it up for him to see.

"Blackthorn. Good for warriors," I answered, hoping I could live up to its reputation.

"Interesting," he said. "That snatcher's wand I used was blackthorn, but it didn't really suit me."

"Perhaps you didn't go through enough difficult experiences with it. Blackthorn needs that to bond well," Narcissa said. "Hopefully Ms. Granger will have some trials of her own."

"I've already been through enough trials for one lifetime," I said. "We all have."

Ron frowned at Narcissa. "You want bad things to happen to her?"

She pursed her lips. "That's not exactly what I meant."

"Difficult stuff isn't the worst thing in the world," Harry said, siding with her. "Good can come out of it. Like how Ron hated running in auror training, but it made him faster."

Remembering last night, I added, "Or like a mother willing to suffer through the pain of childbirth."

Ron grumbled, "Suppose I can't argue with that. Doesn't mean I like it, though."

I nodded in agreement, twirling my new wand in my fingers. I didn't relish the idea of more pain and difficulty than necessary. Still, it was a little exciting to think of the wand's untapped potential. I turned to Narcissa, who gazed into the distance like she was a world away.

"Knut for your thoughts?" I asked.

She started and met my eyes without saying anything.

I nudged her. "Did you forget what you were thinking?"

"Of course not," she replied, looking away. "I'll keep my thoughts to myself until I can articulate them more clearly."

"Very well," I said, doing my best impersonation of a stuffy professor. "I'll need your thoughts in a three-foot-long essay in WLA format with no fewer than five references."

"That's not funny," she replied, chuckling under her breath anyway. "I had to relearn those standards this year for my research. I thought I was done with that sort of thing when I finished school."

Suddenly I was curious to know how old she was, but I knew it wasn't polite to ask a lady outright, so I took a playful approach. "How long ago was that, exactly?" I asked, giving her an innocent look. "Before or after Hogwarts was founded?"

"Well after 990," she shot back, "but before young people forgot about showing respect to their seniors."

"Seniors, psh," I dismissed, hiding the thrill that went through me when she quoted the exact year. "How much of a senior could you possibly be? You're clearly in your prime. Have you looked at yourself lately?"

"Have you been looking?" she asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Er..." I'd only meant to goad her into revealing her age, but now I was stuck. Had I been looking? Just once or twice, and only a little bit. Like right now, how I only saw a little bit of her neck behind the collar of her coat, and her delicate wrists at the end of her sleeves, and the shape of—

"Eyes up here, Ms. Granger," she chided.

My head snapped up, face warming. Not again! "I..."

She wore a smug smile. "Goodness, don't look so guilty. I'm only teasing. It's entertaining to see you get so flustered."

I scowled at her and blurted out the first comeback that came to mind. "Well, two can play that game."

She leaned against me to speak softly in my ear, letting her breath tickle my skin. "Challenge accepted. Oh, and I'm forty-three. Next time, just ask."

Her closeness sent a shiver of desire down my spine. My steps faltered. Did I feel her lips brush my ear? That felt way too good.

"Narcissa one, Hermione zero," she added, striding away to walk by herself.

Merlin's beard, what had I just gotten myself into? My ploy to get her age had backfired. Now I was hot all over, my skin felt too sensitive, and there was a soft ache between my legs. I covered my mouth with my hand, unable to keep rationalizing or suppressing my reactions. I was unmistakably attracted to Narcissa Malfoy.

"This shouldn't be happening," I whispered, trying not to panic. What did it mean? Did I like women all this time? Was that why I couldn't feel more for Ron? Was that why sex felt like such a letdown the time I'd tried it with Viktor? He was attentive and did everything right, according to the books I'd read, but I didn't feel aroused and never bothered to try again. I simply took care of my own needs now. Why didn't I ever seriously question why?

I could hardly wrap my head around all the implications. But at the same time, I started to feel amazingly free, like a rubber band around me had snapped. The physical pull I'd been fighting all week—I could barely believe Narcissa walked into my office only seven days ago—wasn't anything to be afraid of. She didn't seem at all put off by my attraction; on the contrary, she seemed pleased by it, though I knew she wasn't available or interested.

I risked a glance at Narcissa as she walked along, lost in thought just like she'd been before we spoke. Maybe this little challenge would be fun, not stressful, if I didn't try to bottle everything up. I narrowed my eyes. It would be tough to win against someone so put-together, but backing down wasn't in my blood.

All thoughts of competition and introspection ended as the day rapidly went downhill before noon. I stopped mid-step with a tendril of dread curling in my gut and immediately drew my wand.

"Dementors," Harry warned, pointing toward an approaching mist. Ron was ready only a moment later, and Narcissa stood in the middle of us. With our trio together and armed, we would be well protected.

The dementors slid toward us between the trees. It was impossible to tell how many there were. I lost count after I got into the twenties, and the fog hid more. I shivered as the cold day worsened. Narcissa conjured a small fire and let it warm the air near us, a small but much appreciated gesture.

"What do you think?" Harry asked Ron. "Attack now or wait until they're closer?"

"Send yours out now," Ron replied. "It's the strongest. Hermione and I will defend us here in case they surround us like last time."

Harry put the plan into action by summoning his stag. The fear was pressing in on us already, but my new wand seemed almost eager to cast such a powerful spell. Ron's and my patronuses patrolled nearby, ready for anything.

Ron's worry was right: the mist encircled us, dementors splitting into two groups to attack us on either side like top predators. They tried to dredge up my awful memories of snatchers, capture, torture, but it felt like there was a light in me that they couldn't blot out. My otter and Ron's terrier forced the dementors away from us while Harry's stag rounded them up and sent them all running, retreating into the distance.

We started walking again through the forest, constantly looking over our shoulders. Narcissa stayed close to my side, her face drawn. The fog was slow to dissipate, and the cold slower still.

"I think we can be pretty sure this will keep happening," Harry said.

"They're probably not looking for us on purpose, just hunting," Ron surmised. "If we make ourselves a hard target, they'll keep moving on."

I finally caught myself in the act of judging him, surprised at how sensible he was being, so I made sure that didn't show in my voice as I said, "Smart thinking, Ron." He smiled at that, standing up a little straighter. I knew I shouldn't find it strange that he was coming up with good strategies; one of my strongest memories of our early friendship was when he won that brutal chess game.

"Alright," Harry said, "we did well this time, but let's make sure we're consistent about it. We'll keep up a rotating guard to be on constant lookout. We can switch every hour so our attention won't wander. Ron, Hermione, me, Narcissa. How does that sound?" Harry suggested. At our unenthusiastic response, he encouraged us, "We'll be able to rest tonight; we've just got to get through the day. Let's try to keep our spirits up. Got any more chocolate, Hermione?"

"Loads," I replied, digging a dozen bars out of my backpack and passing them out. "But let's pace ourselves so we don't get sick of it."

"Sick of chocolate?" Ron asked, taking one huge bite, and then another. "Neber gudda habben." I chuckled, knowing it was definitely gonna happen if he continued at that rate. He moved to the front of our group to take his position as our first lookout.

Narcissa snapped off a piece of chocolate and placed it in her mouth, just letting it melt. I imagined getting a taste of the chocolate on her tongue, and felt so warm at the thought that I didn't even bother unwrapping my bar. Not suppressing these feelings was much better.

"How are you holding up?" I asked her. "You didn't faint this time."

She took a deep breath. "It was a little less overwhelming with them at a distance."

"I wish I'd had a wand yesterday when this happened. They wouldn't have gotten so close," I said with regret, second-guessing my decision to wait a day. "I know urgently needing a wand during a friendly camping trip would seem strange, but would anyone really notice?"

"Possibly not. But you made the correct choice, by department standards. If you hadn't, I would have advised you to reconsider. I presume you read the entire secrecy agreement for this project?"

I sighed, knowing what she was getting at. "Yes, yes, no need to get all formal on me. I read the ridiculously long section on the subtle ways classified information gets leaked."

"And the warning that outside parties could be constantly gathering information on your activity?" she asked.

"I swear, your department is so paranoid." I kept my voice light, starting to sense that the formality was covering up how low her mood was from the dementors.

"'Keep a mystery classified until it's not a mystery' is our informal motto," she told me. There was no wry grin like I might've expected, just a slight lift of her eyebrows.

"Why not let everyone know about the mysteries?" I asked. "With more minds working on them, they might get solved faster."

"Some mysteries are too frightening for the public to know about. Some lead to something too powerful to fall into the wrong hands. Until we know for sure, better to play it safe."

"Hmph. It's a good fit for you. You've got to be the most secretive person I know."

"We must not share the same social circles." She got a pained expression, then frowned and looked down.

"We could, though," I said, trying to undo whatever just made her feel even worse. "You're getting to know my friends a bit, and I could meet some of yours, unless they all hate muggleborns."

Her mouth twisted. "They—there... aren't really any friends to speak of anymore. All the support we had from other pureblood families vanished when news spread that Lucius and I had abandoned the cause for Draco. They stopped inviting us over, canceled business deals, spread rumors about things we'd told them in confidence..." She let out a sardonic laugh. "And the irony is, everyone else in the world hates my family because we aided the Dark Lord for so long."

My heart ached at hearing that. It was doubly awful knowing that I'd been one of the people in the latter group, and I nearly missed out on getting to know her.

"Sorry I'm not very good company right now," she apologized.

"No, no," I said quickly. "I like your company regardless of your mood. I was thinking of how glad I am that you convinced me to give you a chance. And maybe you're not as alone as you think. What about reconnecting with Andromeda?" Narcissa sneered and turned her face away, making me backtrack hastily. "Nevermind, I know that's none of my business. I shouldn't have said anything."

She turned to look at me again, eyes shining with tears. "Dammit, I didn't mean to discourage you. I've spent a lifetime hiding how much I miss her. That's not an easy habit to break."

Tentatively, I brushed my hand against hers and asked, "Have you thought about visiting her and Teddy? It's not my place to say how she feels, but if you miss her, it might be worth trying."

She turned her palm toward me and laced our fingers together. "Someday. When I've turned over a new leaf. When I'm worthy of her."

Savoring our hand-holding but trying not to make a big deal about it, I shook my head and kept talking. "She's your sister. Don't you think family is worth everything to her, just like it is for you? Time won't hold still. Teddy will grow up without you."

Her brow furrowed. "Grow up? You're not talking about that muggleborn she ran away with?"

My face fell. "I'm so sorry, someone should've told you! Nymphadora and Remus had a baby, Teddy. He's almost seven months old. With his parents gone, Andromeda is raising him by herself, though she has all of us to help. He's got more honorary uncles and aunties than he can count."

Narcissa nodded, her face smooth and calm, but her hand heated up in mine, nearly sweating.

"Hey," I prompted gently. "Hiding again?" She bit her lip, one tear escaping. "You can let it out."

More tears trickled down her cheeks. "Andi has a grandson," she said, voice tight. "I never even got to know her daughter. We've lost so much time. So much..." She wiped her free hand over her face but couldn't stop crying. "Tell me about him, please?"

"Of course," I said, nearly crying myself out of sadness for her. "He's a beautiful little boy," I said. "I'll bet he gets that from your side of the family." The corners of her mouth lifted slightly. "He's a metamorphmagus like his mum, always changing this or that feature when he's happy or sad. He's really energetic, moving a lot now, but he doesn't crawl. He sits on his bum and scoots around—it's really funny to watch." She smiled at that. "I can't even remember all the cute things he does. Harry visits all the time. He could tell you more."

She let go of my hand and patted her cheeks dry, looking less forlorn now. "Do you think he would mind?"

"Would he mind," I scoffed, winking at her. I called to him, "Harry? Care to tell Narcissa about your godson?"

He turned and grinned, closing the short distance between us in the blink of an eye. "I'll do you one better." He reached into the mokeskin pouch he always wore around his neck and removed a small bundle that unfolded like an accordion to reveal dozens of photographs of Teddy. "This is him the day he first rolled over. And this is him when he blew a particularly big spit bubble. And this is him..."

Narcissa was absolutely delighted by all the pictures, while I snickered as he went on and on. By the time it was my turn to be the lookout, Narcissa was in a much better mood, and I left them talking together.

I spent the boring time on guard duty doing wandless practice, not wanting to get complacent. Then, near the end of my shift, I spotted more fog-hidden dementors crossing the trail in the distance. For a second I hoped they'd keep going by, but they turned our way. I cursed under my breath and called out, "Dementors, dead ahead."

"Poor choice of words, Hermione," Harry replied, and we all drew together. "Same tactics as last time?"

"No, they're coming in too fast. Make a wedge," Ron said, wand shaking in his hand as the dementors barreled toward us. Harry's stag took the lead, lowering its head and pawing the ground as if it could intimidate the dementors. My otter swam in the air behind its left flank. Ron couldn't get a true patronus to form this time, but he made a silver cloud by the stag's right flank that would be nearly as good. Narcissa lit a fire again, warming us with the flame and squeezing her eyes shut.

The dementors reached out for us as they passed by, inhuman forms towering over us, but they couldn't come close. Their momentum kept them streaming along as they parted around our patronuses. I felt like I was crouching behind a rock in an avalanche, teeth chattering as I resisted the cold and fear. It was almost exhilarating.

After several more hours of walking and two more attacks, I had the maps out, looking them over and wondering how far this dementor-infested forest stretched.

"I think we'll reach a town tomorrow morning," I announced, eyeballing the distances and making my best guess.

"I hate to say it, but there's no way anyone's still alive," Ron replied. "There's just too many bloody dementors out here."

"We'll still stop there and see what's needed," Harry said, looking back at us for a second while on lookout duty. "There could be people hiding out in a safe building. Dementors are powerful, but they can't go through walls."

"True," I said, putting the maps away. The next town was sure to be another terrible place, but I was eager for it anyway. At least it would be a change from these forest attacks, which I could tell were wearing Narcissa down.

"Thanks for making those fires," I said to her. "They really take the edge off the cold."

"Well, I didn't want to just stand around. I hate being so useless," Narcissa said, shoulders tense. "My thoughts keep slipping back to all my worst memories. I'm trying to focus on other things, but it's getting harder each time. I'm not cut out for this."

"No one is," I replied, shrugging and smiling. "Being under constant attack is stressful. You're doing okay, considering."

She waved her hand toward me. "Look at you. You're lit up, full of energy."

"No, I'm—huh." I stopped, realizing she was right. "I guess... at some point I started feeling, I don't know, like there's something in me that they can't touch. They still affect me, it's just not cutting as deep. Have you ever felt like that?"

"Hmm. Maybe. Not when something is threatening me; I confess I tend to just shut down. Fighting for myself is something I've never done. But it's different when someone I care for is depending on me." She thought a little longer, then concluded, "Yes I think I've felt it."

We walked quietly for a moment, then I remembered my million questions. "Hey, about my wand..." I gave her a sideways glance, a few things suddenly adding up, like when I'd seen her fiddling with something yesterday. "You claimed you went for a walk the other night, but now I'm wondering if it's related."

"I did go for a walk," she reaffirmed, checking to make sure Harry and Ron weren't listening. "...To find wand wood in the hedgerow. It took some time, but the bowtruckles were a dead giveaway."

"Why not just tell me what you were working on?" I asked.

"Until I tested it this morning, I wasn't sure if my efforts would be successful. I didn't want to get your hopes up only to disappoint you. This is only the second wand I've ever made. The first was mine." She held up her own wand for me to see. "When I lent Draco my old one, war had shut down all the shops, and I wanted to see if I could make use of what I'd learned."

"When did you learn wandlore?" I asked, too fascinated to stop asking question.

"Mr. Ollivander was in my basement for a year," she reminded me. "I learned a thing or two."

"Why would he be willing to teach you anything?" I asked, a little dubious.

"Nobody else wanted to tend to our prisoners, so the job fell to me, and I did it with as much kindness as I could without arousing suspicion. He began to share things with me. He even let me assist with making Mr. Pettigrew's new wand. I was hooked. I began buying wandlore books to study the fundamentals while he shared advanced concepts. We often debated about the merits of prefabricating wands or creating them for someone in particular. I like to think my curiosity was a welcome distraction from his situation, but the morbid truth may be that he feared he would die without getting to pass on his knowledge. You'd have to ask him to know for sure."

"I just might," I replied. "Have you spoken with him since then? Maybe he would take you on as an apprentice."

Her expression was grim. "Seeing me, when I was so closely associated with his tormentors, might only cause him distress. It's one thing to bond with someone in dire circumstances, but quite another to want to see them again afterward."

"I suppose so," I agreed. "But if not him, then maybe with another wandmaker?"

She tugged at her lower lip as she toyed with the idea. "Hmm, no. My current job is too good give up. I'd rather keep tinkering in my free time."

"I wish I liked my job that much," I confessed. "I have half a mind to transfer to your department whenever we get back. I'm just not sure there's anyone suitable to take my place doing magical creature advocacy."

"Really? I was under the impression you were passionate about your work," she responded. "Everyone at the ministry knows how hard you work at it."

"You have the right impression, I just feel... understimulated. I worked hard in school too, but with Harry and Ron there was always so much more excitement. I never knew what thing I learned might come in handy later. I mean, in first year I remembered something about Devil's Snare that ended up saving our lives. That'll make you pay attention in herbology no matter how dull it seems."

Looking amused, Narcissa replied, "I see what you mean. Well, my work doesn't normally involve as much excitement as you might hope. Most Unspeakables are researchers and intelligence analysts. There aren't many operatives." With a bit of irritation, she added, "At least, I think so. There's a lot they don't tell me."

"There's a lot you don't tell people, too," I reminded her. "Why didn't you want me to mention where I got my wand?"

"Mr. Ollivander was in my basement for a year," she repeated, waiting for me to grasp her meaning.

It only took me a moment. Ollivander was captured and tortured for his knowledge of wandlore. Voldemort was gone, but there were still cruel, power-hungry people in the world. Of course she would want to avoid such threats. She already told me days ago that she preferred to be underestimated. Now I could see that it was a protective measure, not merely a way to hold an advantage.

"I think I get it," I said, nodding.

"You know what I don't get?" Narcissa asked. "How you can talk so much about your interests, yet so little about your own life. I've heard about books you've read, but I'm only now hearing about your near-death in first year."

"I live with my life every day, so it's not as interesting to me as yours is," I replied. She just raised her eyebrows. "Oh. Right. I suppose it's the same for you. Well, there's a long story leading up to the Devil's Snare. That wasn't even the first time I could've been killed. See, there was this troll in the dungeons..."

She listened eagerly, sometimes clutching her heart in worry, sometimes laughing, as I started telling her stories of all the shenanigans our trio got into at Hogwarts. The dementors may have taken their toll on her, but I was pleased to see that I could still cheer her up.

That evening when Narcissa called out that she was done setting up the ward, she sounded strangely excited. She shifted from foot to foot as I took the tent out, then dragged me inside while Harry and Ron built a fire.

"I can't believe it took me this long to realize it," she said. She pulled out a chair to sit down in the kitchen area, then ignored it and started pacing. "Our camps are sometimes off the trail, sometimes closer to it. That threw me off."

"Realize what? What are you talking about?" I asked, smiling in amusement at her antics.

"We've been walking along a ley line this entire time!" she exclaimed with sweeping gestures toward the north and south. "This trail must've been made so long ago that nobody remembers why it's here. There's magic flowing right beneath our feet."

"Oh!" My mind raced to catch up. "So the dementors followed a ley line? Then they can sense magic. I had wondered why they would bother following a human trail, but this... this means something, doesn't it?"

She propped her hands on the table as she thought about it. "Are they feeding off the magic? I wonder if they followed the line instinctively or if there's a reason for it."

"Hmm. If there's a reason, it can't be good. We should tell Harry and Ron, since it affects our investigation," I said, waving toward the tent door.

"You can go tell them. This day has given me a lot to think about," she replied, sitting down at last.

I nodded and left her to her thoughts. Outside, the three of us cooked dinner over the fire while I explained Narcissa's realization and we considered what it could mean. When Harry asked how she was able to sense it, I told him it was classified, though in actuality I wasn't sure how much I was allowed to reveal.

I spent most of the evening talking with my friends, wishing Narcissa would come outside, but she stayed in the tent. When I went in to use the loo, I saw her reading a parchment, sitting on the lower bunk where I'd been sleeping since our switch. She looked up for a moment to smile at me.

"Coming to the fire soon?" I asked. She gave a noncommittal shrug, jotting a few notes down. At last I understood what Ron might have felt like whenever he wanted to spend time with me and I wanted to keep reading.

On my way back out, I was pleasantly surprised when Narcissa asked, "Would you like to hear something?" She patted the bed beside her and I sat down, looking at her curiously. She fiddled with the parchment, then set it aside and crossed her legs, turning toward me. "I have a poem I want to share with you."

"Go ahead," I invited. I was more into textbooks than poetry, but I liked hearing anything she thought was worth remembering.

She looked down, then began speaking to me softly, not at all like a public recital.

I wish to spare you from the pains of life,
To block each blow and shield you from each curse.
You'd suffer no more ills, or loss, or strife.
No duel would rout you, nor be too adverse.
If I could choose your luck, I'd make it good
and draw a kinder fate upon your palm.
If I could take away your fears, I would.
I'd banish every boggart, quell each qualm.
But I cannot—and should not—give such ease,
For hardship strengthens spirits as we heal.
Sloe berries sweeten only from a freeze,
And blackthorn wands require an ordeal.
So while a carefree life sounds best to some,
I care enough to let your troubles come.

Speechless, I let it sink in for a moment. "Wow," I breathed. "It's uncanny how fitting that is today. It's a sonnet, right? What is it called?"

She murmured, "I haven't given it a title yet. I only just finished jotting it down tonight after thinking about it whenever I was walking alone today."

"You wanted to articulate your thoughts better," I remembered in amazement, wondering how much of it was embellished and how much was what she really felt. "I didn't know you wrote poetry."

She nodded bashfully. "From time to time. It's nothing, a foolish hobby."

"Foolish hobby my arse," I responded, shaking my head. "You're a poet and a wandmaker? I can't believe it. All I can do is study well."

She laughed. "You make me sound so impressive, but I'm a rank amateur. You can do much more than study. You've already accomplished amazing feats, and you're what, less than half my age?"

Now it was my turn to feel bashful, but at the mention of our ages, my competitive spirit flared up. It's just a game, I reminded myself, hoping my next gesture wouldn't ruin our camaraderie. I rested my palm on her leg, letting my fingers spread over her thigh. She took a shaky breath, gazing at my hand, and her legs squeezed together ever so slightly. Then I echoed her words from earlier. "I'm nineteen. Next time, just ask."

She met my eyes, mouth falling open. "You..."

The door of the tent flipped open and Harry walked in. Narcissa leaped up from the bed, staring at me. I stayed still, not sure if I'd gone too far.

"Jumpy much?" Harry commented, laughing. He pulled pyjamas out of his backpack and left to change in the washroom.

When he was gone, Narcissa covered her pink cheeks with her hands. "I'm going to get you back for that," she threatened, then ruined her stern tone by laughing.

"Looks like we're tied one to one," I said, grinning and feeling proud that I'd managed to ruffle her feathers a bit. The thought of her retaliation was absolutely thrilling, and I could still feel the sensation of her thigh tensing under my hand.

What I didn't anticipate was how difficult it would be to fall asleep so soon after that. I knew this infatuation would fade eventually, so I tried to focus on the more important, lasting things that brought us closer today. But my head was swirling with thoughts of my newfound sexuality and my growing desire for Narcissa in particular. To make matters worse, she returned to her lower bunk tonight. Being back in my bed where she'd slept so recently had me tossing and turning, senses aflame. I must've fallen asleep eventually, but she even made her way into my dreams.