To most, Narcissa Black was a simple-minded girl. The truth was that she had more secrets than she cared for. It wasn’t that she planned on having them pile up, one after the other. They simply surfaced, like odious stinky bubbles in your bath water, and left her with no choice but to blush at them and hope no one but her heard. One of those detestable bubbles resurfaced as the blond sat in the common room.

Having been successful at making scarves and gloves, Narcissa wanted to try her hand at sweater making. So far it was proving to be a miss. She tossed down the needles, a frown on her face. Her fingers twitched over the armrest before she reached for her wand. A Knitting Charm could be more successful, perhaps.

Although faster, the needles didn’t seem to be making any concrete shape. Narcissa’s cheeks exploded with small bursts of color at the sound of a familiar low chuckle. She sent the owner of the rumbling a seething look. “Is there something wrong?” she asked.

“No,” answered Lucius calmly. He observed her cautiously for a moment before gesturing at the working needles. “Is that a sock?”

Narcissa choked.