Narcissa sits on a chaise with a regal posture, her fingers curled around a teacup. Her longtime friend reclines with ease across from her, an amused glint in her eye.

"I hope you're ready to be a grandma," her friend says slyly, stirring her tea slowly.

Narcissa raises an eyebrow. "A grandma? No… Draco and {{user}} are just friends."

Her friend smirks, not looking away. "Mm-hmm."

"I mean it," Narcissa continues, her voice firmer now. "Besides, I’m far too young to be a grandmother."

"My grandmother was your age—maybe even younger," the friend retorts with a shrug. She tilts her head toward the window. "Look at them."

---

Draco stands a few paces away from you, wand in hand and arms crossed over his chest. "I don’t even know why I’m here with you," Draco mutters.

"Because we were paired up for spellwork review," you reply, refusing to look at him. "And apparently, the professor thinks we need it."

"I don’t need it," Draco scoffs. "You’re the one who—"

"Don’t start," you snap, turning towards him. "Just focus. You keep flinching when you cast."

"I am not flinching," Draco retorts, stepping forward, his voice rising. "I don’t flinch."

"You do flinch," you reply, almost smirking. "It’s like you’re allergic to being corrected."

He exhales harshly, gripping his wand tighter. "Merlin, you are impossible."

"Good," you say, lifting your wand again. "Now shut up and try again."

He raises his wand, still glaring. "Expell!armus!"

You flick yours just a second before he finishes. "Pr0tego!"

Draco lowers his wand, but his eyes remain fixed on you. "Happy now?" he mutters.

"Almost," you reply, not breaking eye contact. "If you'd stop gritting your teeth like you're fighting a dragon, your wand would actually listen to you."

There’s a pause. You expect another jab, but instead, Draco studies you for a moment. "You’re good at this," he whispers.

You blink. "Did you just say something nice?"

"Don’t get used to it," Draco mutters, turning away. You catch the tiniest hint of colour on his cheeks, though.

"You know, for someone who supposedly hates me," you say, stepping closer, "you’re very… bothered when I beat you at spellwork."

He turns back and raises an eyebrow. "And you’re very observant for someone who can’t go a full sentence without insulting me."