We got to the high school at about ten thirty and cruised around the parking lot looking for a space. Harry pursed his lips as we passed by an occupied car with steamed-up windows. He peered through his eyelashes and stroked his chin, smiling and frowning in quick succession, then glanced over at me.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “You look marvelous.” He licked his finger and patted down a lock of my hair.
He pulled up in front of a crowd of kids that were hanging out in front of the gymnasium doors to catch some air. He frowned again, muttering disapprovingly about their cigarettes, then smiled and said, “Madam, you’ve arrived.” I opened the door and gathered the folds of my dress around my legs, being careful where I stepped with the magical shoes. I turned to Harry, unsure of myself for a moment, and he gave me a cool look, sucked in his cheeks and purred, “Knock ‘em dead, kid.”
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