"I really don't need an escort."

Harry sent Matthew his most withering look as they stood outside the door, though his friend returned it with a perfectly innocent expression. Harry wasn't dumb enough to fall for the obliviousness, well aware of the fact that Matthew knew what he was doing. It was exactly the reason why conversation had been so stilted whilst they'd made their way through the castle. It was exactly the reason why the two of them were now awkwardly remaining in the same spot, waiting for something to happen.

"That's not what I'm doing," Matthew retorted. "I'm hanging out with my best mate."

"As much as I appreciate that, you're not exactly the best company at the moment."

Matthew folded his arms. "I resent that accusation. I have a reputation for being the life and soul of any given party."

"Except one that involves Enola."

Whilst Matthew had been schooling his expression up until that point, the slight twitch of his cheek gave the game away. The pair were standing by the new quarters of Hogwarts' most recent arrival. As Dumbledore had outlined, Enola had been given a private space in which to make herself comfortable. Being a friendly and outgoing person, Harry had seen fit to welcome her properly, to make sure that she was getting settled. Maybe he'd conduct a small tour of the school, so that she would always know where she was going (or at least as well as you could know, given the corridors' love of changing directions).

What Harry hadn't factored into the equation was Matthew getting involved. He'd assumed that, with their morning classes on the horizon, there would have been a window of opportunity to see Enola without his friends intruding. Whilst Hermione was perfectly happy to focus on her studying, it seemed that Matthew wasn't going to be as easy to deter. Harry was now sorely regretting bringing up his plans in the first place, seeing as Matthew had leapt up at the chance to tag along without any sort of invitation.

"I reckon that a party with Enola would be alright," he argued. "As long as she stayed in the corner of the room, far away from the dance floor. And the buffet."

Harry gritted his teeth. "What are you doing here?"

"We're always spending time with each other. Why are you so confused now?"

"Matthew, you're a smart person."

"Thank you very much."

"So forgive me for not believing that you could be this obtuse by accident."

Matthew's face fell, his playful, jovial demeanour disappearing. "You said that you wanted to see Enola."

"There's nothing wrong with that."

"Well, I'm purposefully ignoring all the alarm bells when it comes to that, just because I'm trying to be kind."

Harry wondered what Matthew was talking about and what so-called alarm bells he'd picked up on. Had he picked up on Harry's growing feelings for the girl in question? Had he noticed those feelings being reciprocated? By ignoring the warning signs, was that his unorthodox way of giving Harry his blessing? Or was Harry going to be doomed to overthink every conversation he had for the foreseeable future until he actually worked up the courage to face the problem head-on?

"Wouldn't you rather be with Hermione right now?"

"Of course I would. That isn't even a debate. But this was her idea to begin with."

"I sincerely doubt that."

"She would have been acting as another bodyguard if I hadn't assured her that I'd be able to handle things."

"I don't need bodyguards!"

"Your plan is to go in the same room as Enola without any sort of back-up."

"You're talking as if she's some sort of supervillain!"

"We don't know how accurate that is yet."

"The only way we're going to keep her on side is if we make her feel like she's actually welcome. That's what I'm trying to do."

"And that's what I'm trying to do too, by letting you see her. Just with me loitering by the door. I'll be quiet, I promise. You'll barely notice that I'm there."

"Letting me see her?" Harry echoed in disbelief.

"I know. I'm just that generous. You can thank me later."

"Whatever idea you've gotten into your head, you're not in charge of me, Matthew. I can do what I want."

Matthew pointed a stern finger right at Harry's face. "That's where you're wrong. Sadly, you don't get that privilege. You don't have that freedom. You're too important, regardless of how much you hate that. Because one false move and suddenly you're dead on a slab. And then what would we do?"

"I know things are difficult between you and Enola."

"An understatement if there ever was one."

"And I know that that's highly unlikely to change anytime soon."

"At least you understand that."

"But she isn't going to kill me."

"How do you know that for sure?"

Harry threw his hands up in desperation. "I don't! I don't know for sure! But do you know what? I trust her! I trust her not to hurt me."

Matthew looked as if he sorely wanted to say more. He looked as if he wanted to escalate the argument further, rehashing an old debate that both of them were surely bored of. In the end, he kept those comments to himself, which Harry saw as an unexpected blessing. Maybe the pure passion with which he'd spoken had finally been strong enough to break through Matthew's defences. Or maybe his friend was doing him the courtesy of letting him face the consequences of his own mistakes, whatever they turned out to be.

"She's gone out of her way to prove that she wants us to win," Harry continued, the words spilling out from his mouth. "The decent thing we can do in return is treat her like an actual person, rather than the monster you're painting her as. Right now, she's alone. She's in a world she doesn't know. I know how that feels. And I know that you know what that feels like. When you were in that position, weren't you desperate for someone to speak to?"

"...maybe," Matthew begrudgingly allowed.

"And if it turns out that it's all a con, then I'll be the first to commend Enola for her performance."

Matthew narrowed his eyes. "You were just about to win me back on side, but you had to keep your stupid mouth open."

"Ah, you can't go back on that now. How many times have I been able to win you over?"

"More often than you realise," the other boy sighed, his gaze lingering on the door. "Can I at least stay out here? I don't even have to come in with you, if you're worried about me cramping your style."

"I'm not bothered about style, thank you."

"Oh, really? Because I'm sure that I spotted you spending an unusually long amount of time sorting out your hair this morning, when you normally just leave it as the bird's nest you wake up with."

There was a subtle glint in Matthew's gaze, though it was a look that Harry couldn't quite put his finger on. It suggested that his friend was picking up on the blossoming crush Harry was trying to deal with. And, if the joking proved anything, then it was that Matthew was somewhat onboard with the idea. Or, at the very least, wasn't about to start cursing everyone in the vicinity just because of the insinuation. It wasn't the sort of conversation that Harry was remotely comfortable having, and yet it was one that he knew they needed to share if he planned on taking things further.

"Matthew…"

The other boy was quick to hold up a hand. "No, I don't want to hear it. Whatever you're about to say, it can wait. At least until a reasonable hour in the day. There's a whole can of worms involved that I don't want to unpack."

"...thank you."

"For?"

"Relenting."

Matthew shrugged. "Maybe I'm tired of fighting. Or maybe I'm just waiting to say I told you so."

Harry took a step closer to the door, his palms starting to sweat. It was one thing to tell Matthew that he wanted to spend some time alone with Enola. That was bad enough, frankly. To face that actual prospect was even more daunting. There was no telling whether the girl actually wanted to see him. She might have been asleep for all he knew and, if she was anything like Matthew, then waking her up whilst she was having a lie-in was practically a death sentence.

Just as he was about to knock, Harry realised that Matthew still hadn't moved. He was by the opposite wall, watching the scene play out with his hands tucked firmly into his pockets. It was pretty obvious that his friend had absolutely no intention of leaving, and Harry let out yet another drawn-out sigh that was just as ineffective at getting Matthew to clear off. If anything, Harry's growing annoyance was only serving to make Matthew happier, fanning the flames of his evident enjoyment.

"You're planning on staying?" Harry asked.

"You don't want me in the room. I can understand that, even if I don't necessarily agree with it. But I draw the line at leaving you completely isolated. If something goes wrong - and there's every chance that it will - then I'm much happier knowing that all I have to do is break down that door, rather than racing through the castle. Enola won't be as quick to attack if she knows I'm lurking close by."

"It'll ruin the mood."

"And what sort of mood are you trying to create?"

"...that doesn't matter."

"Do I want to push the question?"

"Absolutely not."

It seemed as if Matthew was caught between wanting to know more about Harry's intentions and fearing what he was going to be told. It was a similar state to the one Harry was dealing with, in which he wanted someone to talk to about the situation, but all the options at his disposal felt mortifying. As it was, the pair were caught in a strange sort of limbo, one that Hermione would have likely forced them out of if she'd been there. It was by no means the first time since he'd met her that Harry was wishing that she was beside him.

"Do you have any tips?" Harry wondered out loud.

"Tips?" Matthew echoed.

"Yeah, you know…" He gestured his head to the door. "Tips?"

Matthew's lips were set in a thin line. "Do you really think that I'm the best person to ask when it comes to spending time with Enola?"

Harry grimaced. "Good point."

"But…I suppose…be yourself? That's the sort of instruction people normally give in this scenario, isn't it?"

"I have no idea whatsoever."

"The issue is that I'm in the same boat."

"...are you really going to stand by the door?"

"Bodyguard," Matthew explained simply, his eyes flashing. "Just please remember that we've got a class soon. Being late isn't going to endear Enola to the Hogwarts alumni, and it's the sort of thing that might make Hermione break up with me."

"We can't be having that."

"Exactly. Because, if you think I'm bad at the moment, just imagine what I'd be like without her to distract me…"

Harry shivered, acknowledging the strong point that had been succinctly made. Matthew waved his hand, making it clear that he expected Harry to get a move on. Having wanted precisely that outcome, Harry found that he was curiously nervous all of a sudden. But, if he even considered backing out now, there was a high chance that Matthew would just hex him repeatedly until he fell through the door. And that wasn't the sort of impression Harry was trying to make with Enola.

With an expectant audience, he sounded his arrival with a simple knock, upon which the door opened of its own accord. Harry didn't know whether that was a good sign, seeing as it suggested that Enola did want to see him. But it also hinted at the fact that she already knew he was outside, which meant she would have heard their conversation, and that wasn't the type of behaviour that painted him in the best of lights. But he still entered the room, once he sent one final, hopeful look back at Matthew, who appeared to be just as unnerved by the whole spectacle.

Given their spot in the castle, it came as no surprise that the room was bedecked in Gryffindor colours. Dumbledore had chosen to keep Enola somewhere where she could be more easily monitored, and Godric's influence could be seen in the deep reds and lavish golds that decorated the space. Harry automatically felt a kinship to the quarters, thanks to his own House allegiances, and he wanted to see it as a sign that Enola was supposed to be on their side.

After all, wouldn't a Death Eater have preferred the green of Slytherin?

The second thing he noticed, which shocked him more than the other decorations, was the large number of plants that littered the room. It almost felt like he'd stepped into one of Professor Sprout's greenhouses, with the variety of flora on display. Most of them were neatly potted, placed haphazardly wherever there was space. Meanwhile, vines had made their way up the wall on the far side of the room, making the quarters feel alive and truly magical.

He jumped slightly at the sound of the door closing with a resounding thud. Since it had opened on its own, it stood to reason that it could work in reverse too, but that didn't stop him from growing more on edge. There was no going back now. He was temporarily shut off from the outside, disconnected from Matthew, who Harry assumed would still be waiting outside. It had been easy to convince his friend that he knew what he was doing, but it was more difficult for Harry to be confident now that he was properly alone.

Not that that lasted too long.

"Harry! I was hoping that it was you."

Enola strolled into view, having been in the sleeping area beyond. Harry's brain processed multiple things in quick succession, most notably picking up on the radiant smile she was sporting. Coupled with the fact that her voice was happy and jovial, Harry comforted himself with the clear signs that she had been looking forward to seeing him again. And her words suggested that she hadn't overheard his conversation with Matthew in the corridor, which was a major boost to his self confidence.

What occupied most of his attention, however, was simply the sight of her. Enola had paired a long, dark green skirt with a white shirt, with sleeves that ran to her wrists. Her hair was partly tied up in a messy bun, with strands running either side of her face, and caught the sun whenever it happened to peek through the window. She looked brighter and more ethereal, akin to what her appearance had been like when she'd entered her Tardis. Not for the first time, Harry felt like he didn't deserve to look at her, as if she were some sort of fine creation that shouldn't have been slumming it with him.

"Hi," he managed to say, wishing that he could be more eloquent in front of her.

"Good morning."

"I…um…wanted to check in with you."

"That's very sweet."

"Hogwarts can be a…lot to take in at first."

"I'm already madly in love with the place, in all honesty."

"She tends to have that effect on people. All it took was one look for me, as we were rowing towards it at night across the Great Lake. I saw that castle before us and knew that I'd be obsessed for the rest of my life."

"I'm starting to understand where you're coming from."

"And you haven't even seen the half of it yet. You could explore this place for decades and you wouldn't find everything Hogwarts has hidden away. There are some secrets that even Dumbledore doesn't know about."

"And is that why you're here? To show me some of those secrets?"

It was a perfectly innocuous question, a remark that would have felt natural for any of his friends to say. It spoke of a relaxed atmosphere and a growing bond between the two of them. Yet Harry couldn't help but be slightly on edge, knowing that Matthew had gotten in his head. Was Enola just playing around or was she actually fishing for those secrets, looking to sell them to Voldemort and use Harry's trust against him? It was difficult to keep the smile on his face, but he stubbornly stuck to the task.

"I'd be more than happy to give you the grand tour. I can show off all the useless knowledge I have."

"Are you trying to impress me?"

"Trying is the main word there."

She laughed lightly. "You know you can sit down, right? You don't have to keep standing there awkwardly, as if you're on edge. Why do you look so uncomfortable?"

Harry couldn't very well tell her that he was second guessing every word she said, despite the fact that he'd already placed his faith in her. He couldn't tell Enola that the seed of doubt still remained in his head, and likely wouldn't leave him until Voldemort was dead and buried. And he was never going to bring up that he had minimal experience of dealing with a crush. But, thankfully, his friend's earlier stubbornness was actually going to work to Harry's advantage, giving him a scapegoat to make full use of.

He gestured to the closed door. "Matthew's outside. I can't stop thinking about him listening in, I guess."

"Matthew's outside? Like some sort of bouncer?"

Harry idly wondered how Enola knew what a bouncer was to begin with, though knew that there were more relevant things to be focusing on.

"As you can imagine, he was a bit…worried about me being alone with you. He was hell bent on coming inside with me, but I was able to talk him out of it. It's just…we had to come to a compromise. He's too protective for his own good, looking out for me, when I'm perfectly capable of doing that myself."

She stepped closer. "Does he think I'm dangerous?"

"He'd argue that it doesn't require thinking, so to speak."

By this point, Enola had crossed the room so that she could stand in front of Harry. She'd come to a stop unnervingly close to him and he couldn't ignore the height difference between the two of them, nor the way she was looking up at him. Her eyes spoke of so many unspoken thoughts and there was no chance of him making sense of the gaze, besides the fact that it made him feel all funny inside. For once, he knew that it wasn't down to any form of magic, but the natural reaction that came when a pretty girl was giving you her undivided attention.

"Do you think I'm dangerous?"

She was toying with him, that was clear to see. She was messing with him like a dog would play with its bone, and Harry didn't know what state he'd been in once Enola was done with him. Frankly, he was willing to just thank her for the privilege, sensing the way his breath was catching in his throat. All he could do was gulp in response, which seemed to entertain her to no end. Though not nearly as much as when she fired a quick spell at the door, prompting it to glow warmly and Harry to practically jump out of his skin.

Enola sauntered away, having gotten the desired reaction out of him. "Privacy charm, if you're wondering. It means that pesky Matthew can't eavesdrop on our conversation."

It made Harry question whether she was looking to hide something from his friend, and whether Harry was actually okay with that. He was concerned about Matthew noticing the rather obvious effect on the door, and whether that would see his friend try to knock it down one way or another. But he couldn't find it within himself to truly care once he spotted that Enola had perched herself on the sofa in the centre of the room, patting the cushion beside her to convince him to get a move on.

He was sure that she shifted closer once he was sitting down, though that might have been his overactive imagination playing tricks on him. Harry was making it painfully obvious that he wasn't good at…whatever this was. He could count on one hand how many times he'd been alone with a girl in an innocuous setting, which didn't include spending time with Hermione. Was he supposed to act differently? Were there certain expectations that he didn't know about?

"How are you feeling?" Enola asked, deftly cutting through his war of thoughts.

"I'm fine. Yeah, I'm good, actually."

"I was told that you were a better liar than this."

"I…I'm not lying."

"I struggle to believe that, with everything that's hanging over you. You probably can't relax, not when you know what's around the corner."

"You're talking about our plan, aren't you?"

"There's no point in focusing on anything else. And there's no need to stall any longer. If we delay, there's more chance of us overthinking the whole exercise, and that's when something can go wrong."

"I reckon there's a pretty good chance of that happening, whether or not we overthink it."

Her smile was a sad one. "What do you know about pure magic?"

"Why?"

"I thought you were a curious person, Harry. I'm sure you've been told a lot about it from Matthew, but I'm a new source of information. You should be leaping at the chance to pick my brain."

"Right, yeah..I think I was just being a bit slow."

"We all have those days. But it could do you some good to learn more about it, seeing as you're going to be relying on the power in the near future. If you're more relaxed and comfortable with it, it might help smooth out the process."

"Really?"

"We can only hope. I'm willing to work with any help we can get our hands on."

"Well…I know that pure magic is inside everyone, but that the skill required to unlock it means that hardly anyone even knows it exists. It requires a lot of patience and concentration, and a stubborn tutor to make sure you don't give up."

"I can't imagine Matthew being the best of teachers."

"Why not?"

She shrugged. "He hasn't exactly shown a good temperament when I've been around."

"You just bring out the worst in him."

"I don't know whether that's a compliment or not."

"He was a brilliant teacher," Harry argued, feeling the need to defend his friend. "He still is, actually. Every single day I'm with him, I'm learning something new. He stuck with me, even when I didn't stop moaning about the lack of progress. And he was successful, seeing as I've been able to use that magic on a few occasions now."

"That was your success, Harry, not his."

"I'm willing to share."

Enola hummed, clearly not adopting the same mindset. "What did it feel like when you harnessed that power for yourself?"

"Amazing," Harry answered. "Like my normal abilities were being supercharged. That's the thing with pure magic. It's wild and almost untameable, which is why it takes so much work beforehand to master it. But once you do, it's obviously more potent than what most people can tap into."

"Trust Matthew to show you its bombastic side, when there's so much more to it than that."

"There is?"

Harry was about to dispute the claim, seeing as Enola had demonstrated the raw energy of pure magic herself. It didn't take a lot to remember the power she'd controlled back at Malfoy Manor, and the sensation of it running through his body. But arguing with her would have likely brought the conversation to an end, and he was rather enjoying the way they were just spending time with one another, as if there was no one else in the world.

In answer to his question, Enola opened up her palm, with a ball of magic soon forming. Harry had seen her and Matthew do it plenty of times, as well as Hermione and himself. Whilst those examples had involved wild wisps of energy, the construct Enola had conjured was much more serene. It was akin to a small flame being kept in a jar and it danced whenever she moved her fingertips. Harry was drawn closer to it, mesmerised by the display.

"The way I see it, pure magic is innately beautiful," Enola explained, smirking at just how transfixed Harry was by the demonstration. "We should have come up with a much more imaginative term for it, but it truly is magic in its purest form. It's the soul of a person, being expressed in a physical form. It's powerful, yes. Destructive, also. But doesn't every person on the planet have the capacity to be those things as well? Pure magic is a representation of humanity. It's confusing. It's difficult to manage. It's…gorgeous."

It would have been a very good line if Harry had replied with something along the lines of 'just like you' or 'not nearly as much as you'. That was the sort of romantic quip that came with practice and a heavy dose of bravery. It was the sort of smooth response that Matthew was capable of when he was around Hermione, but that was only possible because they'd been together for so many years. Harry knew from personal experience just how much of a bumbling wreck his friend had once been (and still was most of the time).

But, whilst he was supposed to have been looking solely at the magical force, his gaze would occasionally drift towards Enola. A purely accidental mistake, of course. And one he kept making. He wanted to say all those things. He wanted to act on his feelings. But the doubts surrounding Enola kept him at bay, as well as the fact that he was an almighty coward. Which accounted for how quickly he'd avert his gaze whenever the young woman next to him picked up on his staring.

"And that's why it's going to help you against the horcrux," Enola concluded.

"How so?"

"Pure magic is the antithesis to what a horcrux represents. If pure magic is beauty and passion, then a horcrux is darkness and fear. They're diametrically opposed to one another."

"Which means they're perfectly designed to destroy each other."

"It just depends on which one is the stronger force. Now, Voldemort is a powerful individual, but a horcrux only contains a slither of his magic. And you've got three skilled sorcerers on your side, and two Tardises. I'd say your odds are looking good."

Harry let out a long breath. "This might be the first time that I've actually, truly felt positive about the idea."

He might have expected her to celebrate that fact, or rush to laud it in Matthew's face. After all, she'd evidently succeeded where he'd apparently failed, and the two of them were constantly looking for ways to one-up the other. Instead, Enola was still sporting that curiously sad smile, and Harry hated the fact that she was likely pitying him. Though he wasn't complaining when she extinguished the burning flame, allowing her hand to rest gently on his knee.

"Why don't you try it for yourself?"

"Try what?"

"You've used your powers to defend yourself or to destroy other things. A sign of true mastery comes from being able to conjure it at will, when the situation is completely relaxed. If you can show that you've got that up your sleeve, then it's only going to make you feel more confident about your chances."

Harry supposed it made sense, though he was also faintly aware of the possibility that she was testing his skills. Whether that was for her own curiosity or for her to report back to her master, Harry couldn't tell. But he shut his eyes all the same, scrunching his brow in determined concentration, and was pleased when he could feel that familiar warmth return to his hand. Risking a look, he watched as the tendrils morphed around his digits, appearing as if they wanted to reach out to Enola.

If she was right, and pure magic was the embodiment of a person's soul, then the magic was making it abundantly clear what his desires were. Harry grew concerned that she was going to pick up on the insinuation, and so focused on replicating the skill Enola had shown just before. The mass of magic that formed wasn't nearly as refined or as neat as the one she'd played with, but it was still a thrilling sensation to know that he could enact a certain level of control.

"Brilliant," Enola whispered. "Absolutely brilliant. You're brilliant, Harry."

A silence quickly settled between them and he was sure that Enola had somehow moved closer during the short time in which his eyes had been closed. Was she leaning in? Was she making a move? Understandably, Harry's concentration had been completely scuppered, and the magic dissipated with a faint flash. He was panicking, watching closely as her eyes scanned his face, assessing something, and he wasn't sure he was going to like the end result.

"There's a lot of plants," he blurted out.

She looked as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown over her. "Plants?"

"Yeah…you know…in the room. Did they…come with the place?"

"Oh…no. They're my own creations. I wanted to make it feel more like home."

Harry thought back to what Enola's Tardis had looked like, and how it perfectly matched the wild nature of the forest. She'd argued that it was the ship's attempt to camouflage with the surroundings but, as he looked around the room again, similarities were definitely cropping up. The vines and leaves decorating the space were very much like the natural, wooden tones that had dominated the Tardis. And he wanted to believe that he was finally starting to learn something about his companion.

"I've always had an affinity for plant life," she continued. "They're quiet, which might be a strange thing to say."

"I'm sure you're going to explain it, so I'm listening."

"You see, I've mentioned that I can pick up on people's auras. It's a wonderful gift to have, but it means that I'm always fielding noise. The world is constantly loud, consumed by people's thoughts and energy. Plants are alive, but they don't come with those auras. So, when I surround myself with them…"

"...it's like you're drowning out the noise."

"Exactly."

"I think I might just have gained a newfound appreciation for plants."

She nudged him playfully, as if she thought he was being corny. It was a step up from being absolutely useless, and Harry was going to embrace any progress he made.

"Funnily enough, we happen to have Herbology this morning. Dumbledore said that you could get involved with some of our lessons, so that seems like a great place to start. I reckon you'll love the greenhouses."

Enola accepted his outstretched hand. "Lead the way."