Instead of her otter, a silver magpie flutters to life, its wings beating languidly as it circles the air above her head. Hermione watches it for a long moment, in silent awe. Draco watches the flight of the magpie, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder—whether the gesture is meant to reassure him or her, she isn’t sure. Maybe it doesn’t matter. She feels herself relax under Draco’s hand, effectively soothed by his presence.  