It’s helpful, though, the night before Draco is to leave Twelve Grimmauld Place in a fake escape and return to Malfoy Manor, his ancestral home, where he will spy for the Order and probably die. She waits until Ginny and Luna are sound asleep and creeps out of bed barefoot, makes her way up the flight of stairs with the dimmest lumos she can conjure, and stands just outside his room. The attic rooms have curtains, not doors, but anybody with any sense – and that certainly includes Draco – will have cast a muffliato inside the room and a silencio outside of it, so he won’t hear her if she taps on the wall. Cautiously, she pulls the curtain to the side and steps into the tiny cubicle they call a room. Draco is out of bed instantly, wand in hand, and if she hadn’t deliberately directed the lumos toward her face, he would have cursed her.