Dark Come Soon

Alexandra stared at the gargoyle in silence, contemplating whether she should go ahead with her plan or if she should just forget about it, and go back to Ravenclaw Tower. It’d be dinnertime soon, she’d be able to sit with Ramona and ask her if she’d heard anything from Dumbledore. Maybe he’d let something slip from her. He had to have told Ramona about the vision that Alexandra had had, because the story he’d given her father, about him only hearing a few words, didn’t convince Alexandra. There was more to it. More than he was letting on and as the person that had uttered those words, she wanted to know exactly what it was that she’d said.

It had to be important if he was keeping it from them. Did it have something to do with her? Maybe, maybe she’d blurted out a prophecy that would foretell her own death and he didn’t want to scare her by going into specifics. No. That couldn’t be it. If it were something that serious, Dumbledore would’ve told them. He would’ve been open. So what was he hiding? Did it have to do with the war? Harry, perhaps? Yeah, Harry. It probably was about Harry. That’d be a reason for him to hide it from her. She had no business knowing what happened to Harry and what didn’t. They had their own secrets to protect.

The more she thought about it. The more she realized that it did have to do with Harry. She felt silly for having thought that a huge secret regarding her was being kept from her. Dumbledore wasn’t the type of person that would do that. That is to say, she didn’t think she was. And as she mentally scolded herself for having created unnecessary drama in her mind, she was completely oblivious to the fact that the gargoyle had leapt aside, allowing the elderly headmaster to walk into the corridor.

“Miss Ávila,” he wasn’t surprised by her being there, a portrait had informed him of her lingering in front of the gargoyle and he had stepped down to see what was the matter.

“P-professor,” she stuttered, caught off guard by his arrival.

“No need to be frightened.” Dumbledore reassured. “Standing in a corridor is not against the rules.”

Alexandra laughed nervously.

“Might I ask what it is that you are doing in this particular corridor?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

Dumbledore nodded knowingly. “About the prophecy, I presume.”

“No,” she lied. “I just wanted to thank you, personally, for saving me. A lot worse would’ve happened to me if you hadn’t found me when you did.”

“There is no need to thank me, Miss Ávila.”

“I really wanted to.” She smiled, hoping that a smile would make her lie, believable.

Dumbledore sensed that that was not all. “Is there nothing else you wished to say?”

“Just wanted to say thank you,” she repeated.

“Very well then, you are quite welcome. And while you are in my presence, might I ask you to do me a favor?”

“Of course,” she stared up at him, curious as to what he would ask.

“Be careful. There are far too many people that care for you; your parents, Ramona and although I might not be around often, me. You are a good friend to Ramona and although I know that you can not control your visions, try to be mindful of where you are.”

Her cheeks flooded with color. “I will.”

“Now!” he clapped his hands together. “What say you, about walking to the Great Hall? Dinner will be starting soon and after your adventures, eating properly is a must.”

Alexandra walked with him to the Great Hall. He spoke most of the way, commenting on how much happier Sybill looked now that Alexandra and her father were in her life. Trying to be good company, she exerted herself more than usual, but still lapsed into periods of silence. That was just how she was. It’d take time before she’d be able to chat freely without being stoned or under the influence of a potion.

When they reached the Great Hall, they parted ways. Dumbledore went to the front, where he took a seat at the head table and Alexandra walked over to the Ravenclaw table where Luna was already seated.

“Hi Luna,” she greeted her. “Is it alright if I take a seat?”

“Oh of course Alex,” Luna spoke in her dreamy voice, turning to face her roommate. “Are you feeling alright? You’ve not been in the room and I fear you may have been walking around, which isn’t advisable considering what’s happened to you.”

“I'm okay, a little tired but fine.”

They sat together in a comfortable silence, completely content with not speaking a word. That was one of the reasons why Alexandra liked her. Luna wasn’t like the others that were always pestering her with questions. They treated her like some exotic bird that was on display, as if there was something truly exotic about a reserved American. But Luna wasn’t like that. Luna inquired but only enough to show that she cared and after that, she’d immerse herself in her own thoughts, leaving Alexandra to enjoy a tranquil silence.

There were a few instances in which Luna had pursued a conversation with Alexandra, but in those rare instances, Alexandra had been willing to converse. How Luna managed to know when Alexandra was up for socializing was beyond her, but she liked Luna well enough. And even though most people thought Luna was odd, Alexandra thought she was a genuinely kind person.

Throughout dinner, Alexandra discreetly looked around for Ramona. They were supposed to eat together, that’s what Ramona had said while they were in Ravenclaw tower, but the brunette was nowhere to be found. She must have gotten caught up in something, thought Alexandra. It made sense. Ramona was always running around to do one thing or another. So she’d probably just lost track of time, nothing to worry about. During one of her looking around sessions, she caught Ron’s gaze. Their eyes locked and for a moment, she didn’t know if to smile or if to look away as if she hadn’t seen him. She eventually smiled, a smile which he gladly reciprocated, and then, when the moment had passed, she looked down at her plate, her brow furrowing as she did so.

Ronald Weasley. Only a few days ago, he’d just been Ramona’s friend and now . . . now she was starting to think of him as a friend. He was nice, so very nice. And funny! Can’t forget how funny he was. He made her laugh throughout almost all of lunch. There’d been a point where pumpkin juice had almost shot of her nose, but thankfully she just ended up coughing like mad when the juice went down the wrong way. Lunch with him had been fun. The most fun she’d had with anyone other than Ramona.

And as she sat there, staring at her plate with a look of deep concentration, she hoped that they’d be friends. Not only because he was nice, but because she wanted him to sit for her more. The way he sat, the way his face looked in the morning’s light had been inspired her. She not only wanted to sketch him. She wanted to do a sculpture, a painting. Why? She couldn’t really explain, but there was something about him, something about those warm blue eyes that inspired her to create.

Ron was a muse to her.

An odd thing to say, surely it was, but ever since she’d sat down to sketch him, she’d been struck with an inexplicable desire to create that was unrivaled by any she’d ever felt before. She’d begun to sketch in her notebook, using page after page in her creative binge. And that look they’d share – that smile they’d shared – had made her want to set up camp on the Hogwarts grounds and just paint. She’d often read about other artists and their muses, but had always thought it a bunch of nonsense. She thought that muse was the term they used to refer to someone they had sex with, but now, now that she was experiencing what it was to have a muse. She thought differently.

“Ron Weasley,” spoke Luna from beside her.

“Huh?” she looked up, looking over at the blonde.

“Was staring over here just a moment ago, had a strange look to him,” Luna declared. “Perhaps there were nargles around. Not wearing my radish earrings so that might have been it.” Luna stood. “Excuse me, Alex; I'm going to put my earrings on.”

“Want me to take something upstairs for you?”

Luna shook her head. “No, thank you. Father sent me sweets today. I’ll have some. Would you like some? You will. They’re quite good.” And without saying anything else, Luna left.

A little while later, Alexandra left the Great Hall, her stomach full and legs demanding to stop moving. She ignored her legs pleads, walking all the way up the various flights of stairs to the Ravenclaw tower. A groan left her lips when the bronze eagle-shaped knocker uttered a logical riddle that needed to be answered if she was to gain access to the common room. She had half a mind to just sit down, not in the mood to answer any riddles, but thankfully for her, Michael Corner was walking up the final step when the eagle finished stating its riddle. He silently contemplated it for awhile, before uttering the correct response and gaining access for them both.

Alexandra entered the doorway, wasting no time to get into the dorm that she shared with Luna and the other fifth years. Alexandra should’ve been in the dormitory that was meant for the sixth years, but there hadn’t been enough space for her to be there. Not that she minded. She enjoyed sharing a space with Luna and the fifth years left her alone. Unlike the sixth years that were constantly trying to start up a conversation with her. At first, she’d thought that it was because she was American but apparently that was only a part of the reason. The main reason why the older girls wanted to get to know her was because they fancied her father. Andrés had become very popular with the older girls, whom thought him very attractive and exotic.

That was why the Hospital Wing had suddenly become one of the most frequented spaces on campus. The hormonal teenage girls were under the delusion that if they were there long enough, that if they made an impression on the handsome healer and befriended his daughter, their day dreams would come true. Alexandra knew there was no reason to fear that such a ridiculous thing would happen. Her father only had eyes for woman. His entire life, he’d only had eyes for one woman and even though he’d left her, to protect Alexandra, his heart still belonged to Sybill. She knew that. The look he got whenever Sybill was around, told her that.

Now that she was in her room, Alexandra pulled out her sketchbook to look over the day’s creations. There were a lot of good pieces in there, some landscapes, other still life sketches, but the best by far was the one she’d done of Ron. She’d captured him beautifully, captured his physical self, but even though she thought it a beautiful sketch – her best sketch – she felt that there was something lacking in his gaze. His gaze was the one thing that she hadn’t truly captured and without capturing his gaze just right, she wouldn’t be able to properly capture his essence on paper. After looking through the sketches for a few more minutes, she placed the book back into her bag and pulled out her books. She might as well get some reading done.

Alexandra read well into the night, stopping only when her roommates announced that they were going to turn off the lights. It was then that she showered and changed into her pajamas so she could get to bed. But as she lay there, tucked beneath the covers, she was struck with such an urge to sketch the Forbidden Forest at night that she climbed out of bed, slipped on a parka, as well as some shoes, and left with her bag in tow. She clutched her wand tightly as she walked through the dimly lit corridors. She knew that she was breaking rules, curfew was nine, but Alexandra really couldn’t stay in bed any longer. She needed to get to the Astronomy tower, where she’d have the best view of the Forbidden Forest.

She’d only been there once before with Ramona, but figured that she remembered the way well enough to get there, and she had almost made it halfway when she heard footsteps coming from behind her. She lowered her wand and broke out into a sprint, wanting to find a place to hide in case it was a Prefect or Filch, but after a few painfully long minutes of running, she stopped when she heard the person’s voice.

“Oi!” they bellowed. “Slow down!”

She didn’t just slow down. She stopped.

“Ron?” asked Alexandra, red faced and breathless.

“Alex?” he stepped closer to her, his wand emanating a bright light. “What you doing out of bed?”

“Felt like sketching.”

“This late?” he couldn’t understand why anyone would want to do anything other than sleeping, at that hour.

Alexandra nodded. “When I feel like sketching, I’ve got to sketch.”

“Can’t you sketch in the common room, though? I reckon it’s as good a place as any.”

“There were people studying there and anyways, I didn’t want to sketch in there.”

“Well, where you going then? Reckon I can take you the way. If you like, of course,” he quickly added. “That way you won’t get into trouble if someone else finds you wandering about.”

“But won’t you get in trouble?”

Ron puffed out his chest. “I'm a prefect. Can tell them that I already wrote you up,” he declared, proudly.

“Okay then.”

Brilliant, he thought to himself, more time with her, keep it together, Ron, keep it together. “Where you going then?” he asked.

“Astronomy tower,” she rubbed her hands together.

Ron watched as she rubbed her hands and couldn’t help but think about how it might feel to hold her hands. If he had more experience with girls, he could’ve said some smooth line, about keeping them warm for her, with his own hands. But Ron didn’t have experienced. He was the boy that went into a state of shock when he asked Fleur Delacour out and although Alexandra was no Veela, he still thought her very pretty.

“This way then,” he motioned ahead.

They walked on in relative silence, saying a few words every so often so as to break the awkwardness. They’d gotten better acquainted after the sketching session that morning, but there was still something in the air that kept them from being at ease like they are around their friends. For Ron, it was the fact that he fancied her and for Alexandra, it was the fact that in the back of her mind, there was a little voice telling her that she could very well have a vision and scare him off.

“Hear that?” Ron asked after nine or so minutes.

Alexandra focused on the sounds, but only heard a distant rattle. “Yeah, but it sounds like rats or something.

“No,” Ron bit down on his lip. “It’s someone. You can stay here or come along. Whichever you like,” he said.

She wanted to stay. Chasing after sounds at night wasn’t something she thought very highly of, but she wasn’t going to let Ron go on his own, so she went along with him. They walked on until they stumbled across Draco, whom looked as if he were in a foul mood.

“Malfoy!” bellowed Ron, his wand held tight and his face contorted into an expression of complete and utter disgust.

Draco stopped in his steps, his lips curling into a snarl. “Weasley.” He spat.

“Out after curfew,” spoke Ron. “And you’re not a Prefect anymore.”

“Take you all week to make sense of that, Weasley?”

“Wouldn’t talk to me like that, if I were you.”

“Don’t have time for this,” hissed Draco.

“Maybe you’ll have time for this in detention.”

“Detention?!” he roared. “Listen here, Weasley. I won’t be serving any detention signed off by a filthy blood traitor in hand me down robes.”

Alexandra couldn’t remain silent any longer. That comment was a low blow and Alexandra was very sensitive to comments like those.

“Who do you think you are?” she blurted out. “You can’t talk to people like that.”

“Filthy mud –” he stopped mid word, when he realized it wasn’t Hermione. “Who do you have there? Ah. The American?” he shook his head. “Only people that’d befriend you are bloodtraitors, mudbloods, and someone who doesn’t know what’s good for them. Listen here –”

“Don’t tell me to listen,” she interjected. “You’re not some Prince or the President to tell me to listen. And even if you were, I wouldn’t, because you’re a . . . you’re a BIGOT! And no one should pay attention to a bigot.”

“American’s, they’ve all got such big mouths.” Draco chuckled to himself. “Big mouths have a way of getting people into trouble.”

Ron pointed his wand at Draco. “Watch yourself, Malfoy.”

“No, no, no! Watch yourself, Weasley.”

“I’ll curse you right here, Malfoy. Don’t think I won’t.”

The scene would surely escalate into violence. Violence that would leave Ron in serious trouble and Draco in the Hospital Wing as a victim and as much as the blonde haired boy deserved to be taught a lesson, Alexandra knew that this was not the moment for that lesson to be taught. So she tugged at Ron’s robes, hoping that that would distract him. It didn’t. She nudged him. That also failed. She called his name. There was no response. So she hesitantly took his hand into hers and pulled him towards her, away from the impending fight. And that was enough for him to forget that Draco was even there.