The walk would be long—when they came to the edge of Draco’s protective wards Hermione felt her features shifting. She looked down at herself and found she was much taller, with tanned skin and long blonde hair. Pansy was inspecting herself as well and now had olive skin and charming freckles that spanned her face, her hair several shades lighter that glowed in the sunlight. There was the slightest resistance in the magic as they passed through it—to Hermione it always felt like Draco’s arms pulling her back when she rolled away from him in bed. She pushed forward and the magic slipped away, allowing her out of its grasp almost reluctantly, as it did every time she ventured past the border. 