            Lucius didn’t even seem to notice, instead catching her hand and tugging her onto the bed. She slid clumsily onto the tall mattress, using the frame to boost herself up until she was sitting beside him. Their thighs touched. Her feet dangled, tennis shoes distinctly dirty against the expanse of plush, cream carpeting. "My great aunt, Odelia, was proclaimed by some in my family to be a seer," he said quietly. "I thought prophecy was thestral shit my whole life, until that little glass orb became the fixation of the Dark Lord’s plans. If this is a prophecy, you would do well not to ignore it, lest it fester like Potter’s did."