Her lips pressed together as she stared at the ingredients on the lab shelves. Of course, the day after Draco's wand was no longer available to her, that was the day she was ready to use magic again. Brewing potions without a wand was possible, of course, but infinitely harder.

She spent until two in the morning working at a fraction of her normal pace before giving up. She tossed and turned in Draco's bed that night, pressing her face into his pillow. There were so many things she should have asked him before he left. So many things she wished she had a partner for. But now he was gone, and she was on her own. After four in the morning, she finally drifted.

Hermione slept in the next day, and breakfast was waiting for her on Draco's desk. She downed a cup of coffee and managed a few bites of toast before she headed downstairs to find Narcissa. She found her in the conservatory, carefully clipping flowers and pruning bushes.

Narcissa drifted her fingers across a blossom and smiled up at her. "Good morning, dear."

"Good morning. I'm sorry I missed breakfast. I had trouble sleeping."

Narcissa paused, frowning. "I'm sorry to hear that. I can ask Mippy to bring you a potion—"

"Actually, I— I need to ask you a favor." She moved closer to the rose bushes and let her practiced story rattle from her lips. "I think I've built a tolerance to the generic kind. It helps me fall asleep, but I can't stay asleep. I was hoping to brew a new potion. You see, I found an old recipe for a Dreamless Sleep potion that—"

Plucking her wand from her robes, Narcissa extended it to Hermione. Hermione blinked down at it, then glanced back up to her.

"Whatever you need, Hermione." Her tone was gentle and her gaze was warm.

Hermione gingerly took the offered wand. "I— yes, thank you. I'll just be an hour, if that's alright."

"You know," she said lightly, "I will be spending most afternoons down here now that spring is upon us, either pruning or enjoying a book. I would say I won't be in need of a wand for several hours a day… for the foreseeable future."

Hermione gaped at her, struggling to come up with words. "Thank you, Narcissa. I could maybe try brewing multiple versions to rotate between—"

"If it's alright with you, dear, I'd prefer to drop the pretense." Hermione's heart skipped as Narcissa clipped a perfect white rose from the bush, the long stem littered with thorns. She turned to face Hermione as she ran her fingers over the sharp edges. "You're attempting to remove your tattoo, aren't you?"

"I…" She swallowed thickly, opening and closing her mouth. "I am." The words hung heavy in the air. "Why would you help me… if you knew?"

Narcissa looked up at her, her eyes a piercing shade of blue. "It's time," she said softly.

Before Hermione could ask further, Narcissa turned away, humming quietly and clipping away the dead leaves.