✔️ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐎 → ℎ. 𝑝𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑤𝑖𝑛 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦

03 | N I G H T T I M E

and there's a storm you're starting.

   "OH, HARRY HAD always been the bullhead out of the two of you", Sirius said, barking a laughter. "You on the other hand were clearly Lily's daughter. Never crying. Calm little angel. You were Moony's favourite."

   "I had no favourite", Remus quickly chimed in. "But around full moon I have to admit that Ember was the more pleasant to have around when my senses were hypersensitive."

   Shyly smiling, Ember caught a glimpse from Harry; the mood between them was still tensed even after a week had passed since their argument. It was the night before Harry's trial in the ministry, and Sirius tried everything to take the tension out of the gloomy rooms of Grimmauld Place.

   "He had a favourite", Sirius whispered at Ember, marble grey eyes winking at her.

   Ember couldn't sleep that night, way too nervous about what would happen to Harry in the upcoming morning, so she left her bed and went back into the kitchen, finding it dark and empty. On the table there was still laying the newest print of the Daily Prophet, as usual showing Harry's face, his name in the headline. Ember crumbled it and threw it into the last remaining glimming in the fireplace.

   "Don't let Hermione ever see that."

   Ember's heart skipped a beat, hand clutched over her chest she twirled around.

   "Ronald Weasley!", she hissed. "Do you want to murder me?" He was leaned against the kitchen counter, his hand wrapped around a glass of water, his hair messy as if he'd just gotten out of bed. "What are you even doing down here? It's three in the morning!"

   "Harry is talking in his sleep again, and I can tell you that he doesn't whisper", Ron said and shrugged. "Thought I'd get a glass of water, he might be done talking when I get back to bed."

   "He's nervous", said Ember. Harry often talked in his sleep when he was young, mainly before some unpleasant events like when they had to stay with Mrs Figg.

   But to her surprise, Ron shook his head. "No, that's not the reason. He's talking ever since he arrived here." He put the glass down onto the counter, Ember was crossing the kitchen to get herself a glass, when Ron said, "About the night at the graveyard, you know?"

   A cold shiver ran down Ember's spine, an empty glass in her hand stopping halfway over the sink. Harry had never told her about that night. There had been no time, before their ways parted at King's Cross. And Ember wasn't sure if she was ready to hear about it. Nevertheless she whispered, "Has he told you about it? You and Hermione? Has he talked about it?"

   "Not really, no", Ron replied. "But he doesn't really need to. What he's talking in his sleep does give me a vivid impression. He's — he's talking about you. He's begging for them to let you live. As if you have been with him. It's creepy."

   Ember finally filled the glass to give her trembling hands something to do. "Maybe he's dreaming about what happened in Moody's — I mean Fake-Moody's office." Trying to keep her voice casual, Ember herself did recognise the trembling, quickly drowning it with a sip of water. She, too, leaned against the counter so she didn't have to look at Ron, afraid what he might find in her hazel eyes.

   "What did happen in there?"

   She frowned, searching for words, but couldn't find the right ones.

   "Sorry, shouldn't have asked", Ron muttered, obviously mistaking her insecurity as his own impoliteness.

   "No, no, it's — it's okay, I — I really do want to talk about it", she stammered and was glad that Ron couldn't see her blush in the dark. She really wanted to tell him; she carried this load with her now for almost two months and it was slowly squashing her under its weight. "I just don't know how."

   "In cases like that Dad uses to say 'start with the beginning, end with the final, and give it a nice peak'." Ron shifted in his position, now looking down at her. "You could tell me why you screamed in the stands."

   "I could, but I don't know", said Ember. "But the more I think about it, the more I'm sure that somehow I got kind of a message from Harry. Like I witnessed — Cedric — I saw green light, you know? That's sounds crazy, does it?"

   "Not really. Twins." He sounded like this last word did explain everything, but Ember threw him a questioning look. "Uhm, see, just like Fred and George can finish each others sentences and stuff. You and Harry have some kind of link. All twins somehow have. My uncles, Gideon and Fabian, they were said to be the best fighters, but only when together. Like they were stronger when with each other. So if Harry had experienced this horrible things, it's not really that odd that you might shared his pain in this moment."

   Ember blinked at him several times, before his words sunk in. "Ron, that was the wisest thing I ever heard tumbling from your lips!"

   "Hey, I'm not that stupid!", he snorted. "It's just that next to Hermione I don't even have the slightest chance to seem like anything but brainless."

   Quietly chuckling, Ember stared into the darkness, shadows moving over the walls in the last weak shines of the burning newspaper pages, and with the light getting lower, her smile slowly faded.

   "He tried to murder us", she then spoke, her voice barely more than a breath, and she could feel Ron's body tensing next to hers. "He wanted to — me first, but Harry begged him to let me go, to take him instead ... Then he pointed his wand at Harry." Tears brimmed in the corners of her eyes. "I saw him dying, Ron. For the split of a second I saw my brother dying, and I — I just —"

   Her voice broke into a stifled sob, and Ron's arm was around her, pulling her against his chest. Silent tears soaked his shirt, but swollowing the knot in her throat, Ember wiped her eyes dry in a rush, and Ron's hug eased, even though he didn't let go. And she was grateful he didn't. They kept standing like that for a while, the fire almost burbt out.

   "I am your friend, you know that, do you?", he after a while asked, and surprised, Ember looked up at him, his face hidden in shadows. "I am your friend, and don't you ever again think I do not care about you. I am your friend."

   Ember stared up at him, the shadows dancing over his features, his red hair reflecting the dying flames. And it might had been the shadows betraying her, but she could have sworn that Ron's face was moving closer to hers, the gap between them shrinking, his embrace once again tightening. A second later there was no doubt; his face becoming clearer, the closer he got, until she could almost see his freckles — or was it just because she exactly knew where every single on of then used to sit? She wondered if he could see her cheeks turning pink, closing her eyes ...

    Clank. Ember's eyes snapped open, the glass from the counter had fallen to the floor, breaking into a million little shards, and as muffled footsteps sounded from the first floor, the gap between Ember and Ron grew wider than ever.

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