When Harry summoned a Patronus by the lake in the Forbidden Forest, the white light from his wand flickered in rhythm with his heartbeat.
A wizard's emotions could affect the power of a spell. Potions, by comparison, were much more stable, because a person's emotions were usually steady while brewing them. But that was not always the case—for instance, with explosive potions.
As the white light in her mind gradually faded, an intense wave of exhaustion washed over her. She lay weakly on the smooth silk, as if her magic had been drained dry.
A Cornucopia decorated the headboard in that blue room. She remembered grapes on the relief. She and Severus had once spent several days in a shepherd's cabin in the Alps. Back then, they had played a game: she played a female slave, while he played Nero.
It had been a bad game, but they had enjoyed it immensely. Grape juice was as sweet as kisses; though it lacked the alcohol in wine, it was just as intoxicating.
She smelled food, along with the sound of someone chewing heartily.
She could make out the scent of chicken, eggs, tomatoes, onions, garlic, and brandy.
Yet she did not think the dish smelled particularly appetizing.
A monster sat beside the roaring fireplace, swallowing great mouthfuls as if the devil were dining in hell.
She moved her fingers and touched the emerald necklace. Together with the Fire Opal Ring on her hand, it reminded her of an "old acquaintance."
The scene of a maid rubbing olive oil onto the King of Sparta took place at a wedding. At the time, the king's son and daughter were respectively marrying Achilles's son Neoptolemus and the daughter of a Spartan who had also taken part in the Trojan War.
Neoptolemus had claimed Hector's