"A slight touch that started at her pinky washed over her like a haze of summer rain. She looked down at her hand, finding Lupin's pinky hesitantly intertwining his with hers. The air between them thickened, feeling surprisingly intimate. His touch seemed to satisfy the deep cavern in her soul. It made Catherine believe that despite their already intimate space, that they could not be more far apart. Catherine looked up at him; he was already staring at her. She was daring to say something, do something. Catherine opened her mouth, almost to say something. Almost. She knew if she spoke of the inappropriate desire, the trajectory of life she had spent carefully crafting for herself would be ruin. But she was willing to risk it." [[PRISONER OF AZKABAN]] [[GOLDEN ERA]]