A while ago, one quiet night in the cellar, Hermione had told Draco that Muggles had gone out to the stars. Out into the black, all the way to the moon – tonight a bloated, pale crescent rising up into the sky. The Muggles had ridden up in a metal rocket – riding fire. Draco had disbelieved her at first, and she had been disbelieving that he didn’t already know.