The tower is where she goes when the shed is not enough: a fire down to embers, a rug, and nobody to hear anything.

She takes the serpent pin off her own collar and puts it on the sill, which from her is a speech.

MalfoidNobody has done this to me. Nobody has — oh. Oh, do that again.

She gets on top and it is nothing like the shed: slower, eyes open, watching your face like she is checking an answer.

She comes with her mouth open and no sound at all, and then stays exactly where she is, breathing.

MalfoidThis does not go in the school gossip. I will hex it out of you.