The Buddy System. *Updating In Process*

40. The Lines We Cross for Each Other

I stared at him for a beat, then checked my watch.

"Oh dear Merlin," I groaned, rubbing at my temples. "It's past two-thirty. Again."

Draco glanced down at his own wrist and let out a low, disbelieving huff. "How does this keep happening?"

Blaise leaned back against the arm of the couch and gave a soft whistle. "At this rate we're going to start charging rent."

Pansy blinked slowly, head tipping back against the cushions, her eyes half-lidded and unfocused. She looked seconds away from simply sliding off the sofa and accepting the floor as a bed.

I exhaled and looked between the three Slytherins, suddenly acutely aware of just how late — and how quiet — the castle had become. "Alright," I said, more gently now. "You should probably consider sleeping here tonight. All three of you."

Blaise's eyes lit up instantly, exhaustion momentarily forgotten. He rubbed his hands together like he'd just been offered front-row tickets to chaos. "I like where this is going."

Pansy didn't even look at him as she smacked him sharply on the back of the head. "Merlin, Blaise. One day I'm going to hex you into silence."

He grinned anyway, entirely unrepentant.

"You realise," I continued, keeping my voice calm but firm, "that if any of you try to walk back down to the dungeons now, you'll get caught. Immediately. And you'll lose at least fifty points each. Possibly more if Filch is feeling festive."

Theo groaned weakly. "Please don't let Filch be festive."

"And," I added, unable to resist, "you'll give him the highlight of his entire year."

Pansy straightened just enough to nod decisively. "Staying. Absolutely staying. I refuse to be emotionally traumatised and publicly humiliated in the same night."

Theo didn't even attempt to argue. He slid further down the sofa until he was more slumped than sitting, head tipped back, eyes closed. "If someone tells me to move," he mumbled, "I may actually cry."

Blaise stretched out languidly, arms over his head, spine arching like a lazy Kneazle in a sunbeam. "I mean, if you insist we stay in your luxurious private suite—"

I rolled my eyes so hard it was a miracle I didn't see my own brain. Without another word, I stood, pulled my wand from my sleeve, and flicked it toward the couch.

Magic rippled outward, smooth and controlled. The cushions sank, stretched, reshaped — fabric flowing like water as the sofa broadened and lengthened, armrests dissolving into a wide, plush bed. The final result was soft, inviting, and unquestionably perfect for collapsing into.

Three pairs of eyebrows shot up.

Pansy let out a low, impressed hum. "Alright. Show-off."

Blaise whistled appreciatively. "Ten points to Ravenclaw."

Theo opened one eye, took in the bed, and promptly let his head fall back with a blissful sigh. "I love you," he murmured to no one in particular.

I lifted my wand again and turned to the armchair. With another precise flick, it expanded and softened, legs stretching, back flattening until it became a smaller but still perfectly comfortable bed — neat, practical, and just as inviting.

When I lowered my wand, Blaise was grinning at me like he'd just witnessed something deeply impressive.

"Merlin's pants, Rae," he said cheerfully. "Domestic magic looks very good on you. Strong 'future-wife' energy."