Aubrey thought love was supposed to feel certain. For three years, she and Blaise Zabini have been stitched together by routine and comfort—hands clasped in hallways, long afternoons in the Slytherin common room, the easy warmth of a relationship that began before either of them really knew who they were becoming. But now, at sixteen, she feels it slipping. The spark thinning. Her heart drifting somewhere she never meant it to go.