The day after returning home from Godric's Hollow, I received my O.W.L. exam results from an owl. I got eight "Outstandings" and two "Exceeds Expectations" – to my surprise, I even got an "O" (Outstanding) in Transfiguration. In Astronomy, I had thought I could only get an "A" (Acceptable), because I didn't pay any attention to the star chart in my hand at all during the last half an hour of the exam. There's nothing to complain about getting an "E" (Exceeds Expectations) in History of Magic. When Neville collapsed, all I could think about was handing in the paper quickly and running out to see what had happened. Generally speaking, this result wasn't unexpectedly good, nor did it disappoint me.

For the rest of the holiday, I stayed at home and didn't go out. I comforted Hermione, who didn't get an "O" in Defence Against the Dark Arts. I heard from her letter about the interesting thing that Fleur Delacour became the fiancée of Ron's elder brother, Bill Weasley. It seemed that Mrs. Weasley and Ginny didn't like her very much, because Miss Delacour seemed "too self-centered". Although Hermione didn't say it explicitly, I felt that she didn't really like Miss Delacour either. The Daily Prophet reported new missing persons every day, from Igor Karkaroff to Florean Fortescue, who owned an ice cream shop in Diagon Alley. One day, when I went downstairs, I heard my mother and father talking in hushed voices. It seemed that Mr. Ollivander was also missing.

I stood on the stairs with mixed feelings. It seemed like it was just yesterday that I walked into his shop – for every child from a wizarding family, having a wand of their own is a dream that starts from playing with toy wands that can only produce some small colored strips. With anticipation and a bit of anxiety and awe, I stepped into that small and shabby shop where the golden sign on the door had already peeled off. I looked up at the thousands of long and narrow boxes stacked from the floor to the ceiling. Mr. Ollivander seemed to remember every wand he had sold. While smiling and talking about the material of my mother's wand, he lowered his head and looked at me with his silvery-white eyes.

"Hawthorn, eleven inches long, flexible and springy, dragon heartstring... I think you will become an extremely excellent witch just like your mother," he said softly as he handed me my wand at that time. "Many people complain that hawthorn wands are difficult to control, Miss Snape. But in fact, for a wizard to be recognized by a hawthorn wand, they need to have intelligence beyond the ordinary and a passion for innovation. Once it is conquered by a wizard's talent, it will respond to all your desires – no matter what kind of desires they are."

I reached out my hand and slowly rubbed the wand in the pocket of my nightgown with my thumb and index finger. A slight warm current came from my fingertips. Does it also worry about Mr. Ollivander?

After my mother was promoted to the deputy director of the Auror Office, she became even busier. She didn't seem to get along well with the newly appointed director of the Auror Office, Rufus Scrimgeour. Or rather, there was an obvious gap between Mr. Scrimgeour and the obvious "Dumbledore supporters" in the Ministry of Magic. He thought it was simply an overcorrection that Mr. Potter could succeed Cornelius Fudge as the new Minister of Magic. My father would go out from time to time and come back in a hurry after a long time. This summer, I learned several spells for use in the kitchen. I could barely make some stew that wasn't burnt and sandwiches with lettuce and bacon. To be honest, they didn't taste very good (many people think that wizards who are proficient in potions will also benefit in cooking, but that's not the case). But every time the dinner I left on the table for my parents was eaten up by them, which made me feel a bit of satisfaction for having helped.

I had a simple sixteenth birthday. With so many things having happened before, I didn't have the mood to celebrate. That night, I just had a small piece of strawberry cake I made myself with my parents who rushed home. I clearly followed the steps in the Elementary Cooking for Witch Housewives tutorial, but the cream still tasted a bit astringent in my mouth. Before going to bed, I was curled up in bed reading a thick book that described in detail the medicinal properties of plants in Central Asia. My mother knocked on my door and then pushed it open and asked me, "Liz, would you like me to take you to Diagon Alley this Saturday to buy the things you need for the new term? Coincidentally, I'm in charge of the patrol in that area of Diagon Alley that day."

"Sure," I nodded. "I think the letter from Hogwarts and the book list will probably arrive in a few days. I'll sort out the list in advance."

"I think you need to buy another slightly more formal dress," Mom opened my wardrobe and took a look at the row of dark robes hanging there, which only had slight differences in details.

"Is it necessary?" I shrugged. "I don't like those dresses that are so tight that they make it hard to breathe, and you can't run when the hem drags on the ground. Robes are so much better. Even if half a sleeve gets burned, it won't scald your hand."

"You're a grown-up girl now," Mom pinched my nose. "Given Professor Slughorn's personality, he will definitely restart the Slug Club and those festive parties once we're back at Hogwarts. Wearing something formal is also a sign of respect."

Diagon Alley was very different from before. The colorful flyers and advertisements posted by various shops were all completely covered by large black-and-white wanted posters. The dangerous criminals who had escaped from Azkaban sneered ferociously and wildly at every passerby in the photos. The windows of several shops were boarded up with planks, and there were cordons at the entrances to keep out unauthorized people. Several people who looked like Ministry of Magic employees came out in a hurry. But the street didn't seem empty; in fact, it was even more difficult to get through than usual because there were quite a few shabby little stalls squeezed on both sides of the passageway. They were set up with dirty cloths or enchanted umbrellas to mark out an area for doing business. The owners of the little stalls kept stopping passersby, shaking dirty trinkets in their hands at them and boasting that those lucky charms were all sealed with amazing protective magic.

"Pretty miss, would you like to buy a bracelet?" A short wizard with black dirt under his fingernails stopped me as I walked beside my mom in the direction of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. He grinned and pointed at my wrist. "It looks so empty there. It needs a bit of caring protection. And you, beautiful madam, take a look at this necklace—"

When he saw the Ministry of Magic badge on Mom's chest, a comical expression appeared on his face, as if all the lines he had wanted to say were stuck in his throat, and it was painful whether he finished saying them or swallowed them back. Before Mom could say anything, he stuffed the large pile of silver trinkets in his hand into his bosom, spun around, and disappeared on the spot.

"There are so many things to deal with that there's simply no time to take care of these people. They're just like mushrooms after the rain. Once you clear one batch away, they'll come back again," Mom shook her head and sighed. "They're taking advantage of people's fear to peddle that rubbish... Arthur really is still short of manpower over there."

"I'll be right over." She waved to an Auror who was waving at her from across the street. "Wait a moment. I need to take my daughter first—"

"I can go to the robe shop by myself," I said to Mom as I saw three or four Aurors gathering across the street, obviously waiting to report something to her. "It's okay. You're just across the street. The Death Eaters surely won't rush into Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and do something right in front of a bunch of Aurors, right? Picking out clothes will definitely take some time. This way, you can deal with those matters."

"All right then." Mom hesitated for a moment but still nodded. "Don't run around. I'll come to pick you up once I'm done."

Madam Malkin's robe specialty store looked rather deserted. In the past, around the time of the start of the school term, this place was probably the liveliest after Flourish & Blotts. Madam Malkin, who was sitting on a chair and watching the silk threads embroider patterns on the cuffs of the robes by themselves, was extremely enthusiastic when she saw me push the door open. She said that I was her first customer of the day and waved her wand to pour me a cup of hot tea.

"Formal dresses!" Her eyes sparkled when she heard what kind of clothes I wanted to buy. She almost dragged me by the arm to a row of shelves filled with various clothes. "Let me see. I think you'll look great in anything. This isn't some false flattery I'm saying just to make a sale."

"Er," she held up a bright red dress in front of me as if a group of flamingos were about to emerge from under the skirt the next second. When the tape measure that was tightening around my neck finally dropped and started to tighten around my waist, I quickly said, "I think something simple will be fine, Madam."

"Simple! I understand! Simplicity and elegance are the true signs of luxury." She grabbed a dark green long dress with only a little silver pattern embroidered on the waistband and shook it at me. Looking at the almost uncovered back, I firmly shook my head. "Er, I want... um, something with a bit more fabric. I'm afraid of the cold."

"But this is the popular style this year," she said regretfully after I firmly shook my head. "I dare say this color suits your eyes very well."

"A girl of your age should show off her beauty to the fullest, especially at a time like this. Living each day beautifully is not a waste." She kept chattering as she took more clothes from the shelf to show me. "Hmm, how about this one? A darker green with white gauze, and the pattern of silver silk roses on the skirt is very beautiful. It's my exclusive design—there's another one in the same style but a different color. Let me think... The dark green suits your eyes better, but the dark red also matches your hair color perfectly. For the dark red one, I used golden silk thread for the roses. I think you have to try them on to see which color suits you better."

I mumbled something, and Madam Malkin laughed. "My dear miss, you're not going to a duel in such a formal dress. So we never consider whether it's convenient or not. You'll surely be attending with a dashing gentleman, and how could he let you trip over the skirt when he's holding your hand?"

I was almost pushed into the fitting room by Madam Malkin. She smiled and hung the two dresses on the hanger, pulled the dark gray curtain and told me not to rush and take my time to try them on. After waving her wand, the wall turned into a smooth floor-to-ceiling mirror. The fitting room, which had been dim just now, was illuminated brightly by the lights on both sides. As she put it, "This way you can see the real effect of the fabric of the dress under the huge chandelier at the ball."

I took down the dark red dress. It was really troublesome to put on, and it quickly consumed my scarce patience for such things. I didn't know if it was because the size wasn't right, but the straps kept slipping from my shoulders down to my arms. I was in a flurry trying to fix them and was about to pull the zipper at the back when I suddenly heard other people's voices outside.

"... I'm not a child anymore, Mom. You may not have noticed, but I'm perfectly capable of coming out to buy things on my own." Draco's somewhat impatient voice reached my ears through the curtain of the fitting room. Then there was the sound of him rummaging through the robe rack. Madam Malkin said, "Yes, dear. What your mother said is right. None of us should be out wandering around alone now. It has nothing to do with whether you're a child or not. Come on, I think the cuff of the left sleeve is a bit long—"

"What are you doing?" Draco's voice suddenly rose. "Look carefully!"

"Oh, don't worry. I'm just taking it up a bit. You can see that the cuff reaching to your hand is obviously not suitable." Madam Malkin's tone was a bit confused, but she still patiently explained. "It won't prick you. Don't worry, dear."

"I'll do it myself. Don't touch me." Draco's voice was tense. "Didn't you hear what I said? Don't touch my hand!"

"Ah, all right." Madam Malkin said softly. "Please feel free, madam. Is there anything you need to see?"

"No." Narcissa Malfoy's voice was as cold as ever. "I don't think this one is good enough, son."

"What about this one then—"

"I. SAID. DON'T. MESS. AROUND. BY. MY. LEFT. HAND." Draco seemed to be suppressing a great deal of anger. "Can't you understand human language?"

Why was he so worried about Madam Malkin touching his hand? I could only hear their conversation in the fitting room but couldn't see what was happening. I frowned and thought. More than half of the Hogwarts students had bought basic robes from her. With Madam Malkin's craftsmanship, she surely wouldn't be so careless as to prick someone with a pin. So what was he worried about? Or was it just that Lucius Malfoy was still imprisoned in Azkaban, making him irritable—but why the left hand? Was there something there that couldn't be seen by others?

"Come and sit on the sofa outside and have a cup of hot tea, madam. You don't look well." Madam Malkin's trembling voice sounded again. "Hmm, I remember there's a dark green robe inside. I recall you used to like this color. Would you like to try it, dear—you put it on yourself and tell me if there's anything that doesn't fit."

"Stay away from me." Draco said coldly. "And those stupid tape measures, all stay away from me. I'll change by myself."

"Wait a moment—dear, there's someone in that fitting room!"

I was still fully engrossed in thinking about what kind of thing it could be that couldn't be seen. It was too late when I heard Madam Malkin's cry of alarm. The curtain in front of me was suddenly pulled open, and I, who was standing right next to the curtain, looked as if I had just been trying to eavesdrop.

"I—I can't zip up the zipper on my back and wanted to ask you for help." I blurted out to Madam Malkin in a hurry. I dragged the floor-length skirt and made a movement as if I had been about to go out to ask her for help and had been standing there. I tried to squeeze past Draco in a hurry, but I stepped on the skirt—I knew this kind of dress wasn't suitable for me.

"Want me to help you?" He reached out his right hand and grabbed my arm when I stumbled and almost fell. His tone was filled with thick malice as he deliberately misinterpreted my words. "It's not impossible."

I grabbed the strap that was still slipping down with my free hand and glared at him for a while. His face was not much better than a ghost's under the cold white light of the fitting room, and the shadows under his eyes were as if he hadn't had a good sleep for several days. As soon as Madam Malkin stepped forward, he turned around and gave her a glare. She shrank back and looked at me.

"Then I'd appreciate it." I nodded at him defiantly after I steadied myself. He surely didn't believe a single word of what I said, and there was no need for me to continue making up lies—if he insisted on giving me a chance to roll up his left sleeve, why should I refuse?

"Well... make yourselves at home." Madam Malkin seemed to heave a sigh of relief and couldn't wait to go outside and have some tea. "Just call me if you need anything."

"You should rein in your curiosity, Iris Snape." He said softly as he pulled up the zipper on my back. "The wand is in the robe on the stool. You still have the leisure to think about how to roll up my left sleeve."

"So it seems I guessed right. This is the bad thing about knowing each other too well, isn't it? I can tell what you're thinking just by looking at where your eyes are wandering." He slowly helped me, who was stiff all over, to zip up the zipper. His pale fingertips lifted the strap on my shoulder that kept slipping down. "The strap is slipping down because it's supposed to be on your arm. Didn't you see in the mirror that there would be ugly wrinkles here if you pulled it up to your shoulder?"

"You haven't been completely influenced by those hopeless Gryffindors yet. You became obedient when you realized the wand wasn't at hand. It would have been better if you could have remembered that just now, right?" He put his chin on my shoulder and looked at the two of us in the mirror as he spoke in a gloomy tone. I shrank back and tried to dodge him, but for a moment, the thought of taking the wand from his pocket flashed through my mind. "By the way, my wand is in the inner pocket of the robe. It might not be that convenient if you want to fish it out."

My right hand awkwardly stopped by the pocket of his robe. He held my right hand, and his fingers were as cold as if they had been soaked in ice water.

"I don't like this color." He squinted his eyes and examined the mirror for a while. "It's ugly."

"What's on your left hand?" I looked down at his left hand that was on my waist. The cuff of the long sleeve was tightly fastened around the protruding knuckles of his left wrist.

He showed an ugly, somewhat twisted smile and sneered, "Are you showing too much concern for me considering your position, Miss Snape?"

"Draco." The voice of Mrs. Malfoy came from outside. "Is it done? Why is it taking so long?"

"Done." He replied loudly. "But I don't like any of them. Let's go and take a look at Twilfit and Tattings instead."

"What happened?" I asked him before he left. "You look terrible."

He paused for a moment, turned around, and asked me, "Do you still need to ask me what Potter and the others have done to me, to my family? Don't say that my father deserved what he got—that kind of nonsense—otherwise, I'll break your neck right here. I don't care what those Aurors across the street will do to me because of it. I'm telling you—"

I looked into his eyes and said, "You're using Occlumency."

He showed an extremely annoyed expression for a moment, but quickly reacted and growled at me viciously, "You don't have a wand in your hand!"

"Exactly, so I couldn't perform Legilimency and could only try to bluff you. " I shrugged. "This is the bad thing about knowing each other too well, as you said."

I really didn't doubt that he had the urge to reach out and grab my neck for a moment. I took a few steps back. Just as we were facing each other in silence, the voice of Narcissa Malfoy came again: "Draco?"

"Coming." He lifted the curtain of the fitting room and strode out.