She missed Friday lunches with Harry — and coffee chats with Corner. She missed small talk in the bathroom with women she barely knew. She even missed dodging memos and office politics and insulting McLaggen behind his back. Sometimes, when she felt most alone — those hours when stars twinkled on the ceiling above and the only sound was that of her own pen — she sometimes cast little charms to recreate the white noise of the day. Sliding file drawers and clattering tea jars, slamming books and ruffling parchments.