Narcissa settled herself primly on a barstool, sweeping her black, velvet skirts off to the side, as though she was riding a horse side-saddle. Everything about her was black tonight, from the smoky shadow that lined her lids, to the pleasure running through her at the thought of what was happening in the shadows, unseen.

The party was in full swing by the time Theo stepped on board. The Marauder was awash with lantern-light and colourful flags, music spilling from the corners and ale spilling from the flagons. The scent of rum and spiced meats was strong in the air. Blaise had foolishly eaten half a mango in anticipation and was perched on a barrel, waiting for him.

It took guts to write to Viktor Krum.

When an irritable toad of a woman wants to take over his Cheese Shop, Scorpius does his level best to thwart her every move. This, of course, means he ends up visiting the Wizard in the moors every other day, each time sporting a new Curse that needs lifting. Albus has never had such a reliable return customer before, but he's starting to enjoy the company.

Albus goes for a stroll, perfectly content with watching the leaves fall and crunching them underfoot, when he bumps into Lysander Scamander. What follows is an afternoon of flirting, pumpkin guts, and terrible leather trousers.

It's so late that it's a miracle they haven't been caught yet, and Scorpius is tired and cold, and ready for bed. But the truth is, an entire army of Hinkypunks hopped up on Pepper-Up Potion couldn't drag him away from the sight of Albus unwrapping his gift to reveal a thick, hand-made, cable-knit sweater.

Remus had always been the one that knew things. He was slyer than most people would believe. And he was hungry too, seeking out facts and spells and knowledge because this was a world that despised what he was, and Remus wanted to be ready when it came for him. This, though. Remus didn't know anything about a floating, ghostly flower shop at the entrance to a graveyard.

Arthur looked up in time to see a head of unruly black hair pop between the gap in the door and the frame. His memory wasn't what it used to be, a bit foggy and grey in places, and for a brief moment he was thrown back in time, back to sunlit days when a different black-haired bespectacled boy filled his home. Then he blinked, and it was Albus standing in the doorway instead.