"Have you ever thought about the crossings?" she asked him that week, after cross-stitch club. He was walking her to the crossing-over point, like he always did. With June just around the corner, the daylight stretched into the evening. As they walked toward the protected boundary line dividing Muggle and Magical London, the sky hung hazy overhead. Hermione felt as though the haze was permeating her mind, tinting everything a gentle rose hue. She wanted rather intensely to hold Malfoy’s hand.