Worlds can be shattered in an instant. Children go from experiencing new things in blissful innocence, to adults facing the harshness of ever-changing existence in the span of a single moment. Those who see the truths of the world are presented with...
It was a moist and misty day. Artemis' arse was well drenched by the time she got off it and began walking in the direction of the dilapidated manor house belonging to Muriel Prewett. She could hear subtle bangs going off behind the house, but she wasn't looking for a pair of troublemaking twins.
The door creaked loudly when she opened it, but no one came to check on who was calling. Presumably, the house was empty, or the guests were deep in the outer wings.
As Artemis further ventured into the house, passing trinkets and artifacts probably worth more than the house itself, her pace picked up. By the time she was in the second-floor hall that led to Ginny's room, she was running.
She skidded to a halt before the large white door that had a painting of a very ugly horse stuck to it. A harried-looking Ginny Weasley immediately answered her knock.
"Mum, what — " she froze, taking in Artemis' expression, then she pulled her friend into a hug.
Artemis was sobbing into Ginny's shirt within half a second. It was quite awkward, as she had nearly a foot on her friend, but she curled against Ginny's small frame and cried like a first year.
"He's dead," she finally managed after what felt like an eternity.
Ginny pulled away and looked up into Artemis' eyes, understanding flashing in her brown eyes, "How did it happen?"
Artemis bit her lip to try and hold in the emotionless bark of laughter, but it found its way out, "Luna told me he 'didn't make it past New Year's Eve.'"
"Artemis ... "
"Happy birthday, Artemis," she snorted, roughly brushing back her tears.
Ginny placed a warm hand on her friend's arm, but her mouth opened and closed for a moment as she searched for words that would heal. But words couldn't heal such a grievous wound. Even the most powerful spell couldn't bring back the dead.
"You wanna know the funny part?" Artemis turned her eyes to the ceiling, "I hadn't even noticed it had gone by until that moment. I'm eighteen. I've been on the run for months. My dad is dead. I — " she pressed a hand to her mouth for a moment, fresh tears brimming, "I can't tell Apollo."
"I don't think — " Ginny started tentatively, but Artemis cut her off with a shake of her head.
"You haven't seen him. He's almost all gone. I can't take this away from him, not now. Not when ... not when I think he's going to need that hope to keep going to the finish."
"Artemis, what are you saying?"
Artemis held Ginny's gaze for a long moment before making her decision, "I think something's coming. And soon. I think — I think Harry's going to make his stand."
"How could you possibly know that?" Ginny took a step back, her mouth twitching down, a bone-deep dread in her eyes.
"I can feel it," Artemis pressed a hand to her chest and thumped against it hard, "it's the way everyone's acting, the way the winds are blowing, the way this feeling of horror sinks deeper in my gut each day."
Ginny ran a hand through her man of red hair, a thousand expressions flitting across her face in the space of a second, before settling on determination, "then we'll be fucking ready, won't we?"
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
