Musings in the Dark

"Are you awake?" the brunette whispered towards the lanky form in the cot.

The boy rolled over and looked at her with a twinkle in his eyes. "No, I'm just pretending," he grinned, running a hand through his black hair as he sat up, fully. "What're you doing here?"

She plopped down on the foot of his bed and fiddled with the Head Girl badge pinned to her chest. "Well, I was just making sure you were alright. That was a pretty nasty fall from way up there."

"I'm a good flyer. Good flyers learn how to fall just as well as they fly," he smirked. There was a pause. "You knew I was fine." She scuffed one Mary Jane, polished to perfection, on the rough, stone floor to fill the quiet of the Hogwarts night. "Why are you really here, Little Miss Head Girl?"

She frowned, taking a stray strand of her fluffy, brown hair behind her ear. "Well, in truth, I was just passing by on my rounds when I realized," she coughed, "Weasley said you'd had a bit of a nasty fall at the match."

The raven-haired boy stared at her for a moment, unblinking. "You weren't even there? What kind of witch are you?" he laughed.

She seemed rather flustered, and frowned, deeply. "The kind who isn't that fond of Quidditch, and you know that very well, you arrogant bastard," she said, wrinkling up her nose.

He frowned at this. "Sorry if I offended you. I was just joking," he said with a shrug.

She sighed. "I know, I know." They sat in silence, for a moment. "Can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"What was it like?"

He stared at her. "What was what like?"

"Well...what was it like, down there in the chamber?" she asked, finally.

"Why on earth are you asking me a question like that?" he said, surprised. "And now? Now that it's in the past?"

"Because I want to know," she replied, her face set, now.

"Well, it was rather frightening. It's not really....something I'd like to do again." He had an odd, far-away look in his eyes, as if he was looking right through her at something she could never understand.

"I wonder why they keep it all so quiet. I mean, it's not as if..."

"I know what you mean," he nodded. "At least they didn't have to send everyone home," he shuddered.

"Oh, that's right...they were going to, weren't they? You don't exactly have the most pleasant home in the world."

"No, not really. I don't understand why they keep it all quiet," he repeated, vaguely. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Of course. Head Girl's here to help."

They both laughed rather nervously.

"How come...we don't really talk any more?" he asked, looking up at her with hurt eyes.

"I don't really have any kind of a good answer for that question," she said, doing her best to not look at him.

He nodded, as if he understood. "Is there something you know that I don't?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, actually. Probably a lot of things."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that."

"You wouldn't, eh?"

"No. In fact, I happen to know we'll win the house cup this year."

She frowned at him. "How can you possibly know something like that?"

"Because you're usually the one that earns all those points, but you're so busy studying for your NEWTS you've made it easier for moi, and I know for sure."

"You're being a prat."

"Too true, miss, far too true."

"How can you be so silly when we're at war?" she asked, suddenly.

"Because sometimes a little bit of silly can save your soul from the darkness," he replied, seriously.

"I see..." she said, his face suddenly far too close to hers. A pair of glasses was tossed aside, and two pairs of lips crashed down on each other with a fervor that only years of longing and teenage hormones can induce. After a few minutes of exploring and low moans, she pulled back, quickly, her eyes wide in shock. Delicately putting a hand on her swelling lips she murmured, "Whoa..."

"Holy..." he trailed off, looking just as shocked. "I am so, so sorry. I should never have--"

"It was as much my fault as yours," she said, sounding rather anguished as she stood, quickly, straightening her gold-and-red-striped tie, nervously, and finger-combing her hair. "I....I should really go. It was good talking to you..." She turned and hurried toward the door.

"Wait!" his low, familiar voice called.

She turned and looked at his slightly blurry body. Her lip quivered slightly as she let out a shaky sigh. "Yes?"

He looked her in the eye for a moment. "Never mind," he said, turning away.

"Good night, Tom..." she said, wandering off and nearly running into the door.

He fiddled with her glasses for a moment before folding them and setting them carefully on the night-stand.

"Good night, Minerva," he whispered, before pulling up his blanket for another sleepless night.