Lux [h.s]

fifty-one

Cora's eyes snapped open.

Everything around her was dark. A shard of moonlight was coming into her room through the sliver between the curtains, making the broken pieces of the silver rose on the floor glint and painting the walls in dark shadows and pearly shades.

She lay on her back and stared at the ceiling with a sigh, thinking back to the last conversation she'd had with Harry. Why did he seem so dejected—what right did he have to be one that was upset? But most importantly, why did it make her sad to know he was upset?

She hid her face in her hands, finding herself wishing morning would never come.

A sudden thud came from downstairs and she sat up, eyes wide. She slid out of bed and to the window, parting the curtains and looking outside.

The clearing in front of the house was empty. No bird was chirping, nothing was moving between the shadows of the pine trees. Maybe she'd imagined it. The night was playing tricks with her mind.

She walked back to the bed, but just as she was about to get under the blankets, a crash rang through the house. She opened the door and glanced into the dark corridor.

Nobody could enter the house without them knowing, and someone was surely keeping watch. But what if an intruder had got past them without them knowing? What if something had happened to them? Harry was in the house, likely in his room, and she knew that, if it got to that point, he would save them. But who would save him? It was night after all, and he was asleep. He was hurt, too. What if someone had followed him home?

Cora took a deep breath and took a silent step outside. She had to find out what was going on—she had to stop the intruder before it got to the other people in the house. Maybe she wasn't strong enough to win against Harry, but she could take a human on her own, she reasoned, maybe even two if she had the element of surprise on her side.

She made her way down the stairs slowly, fighting the urge to call for Harry. She could do it on her own. She had to show him she could do it on her own. It was her fault if he thought she couldn't protect herself—she'd grown so used to having him help her that she'd convinced both him and herself that she needed to be sheltered constantly. But she didn't. She was smart, she was fast, she could do things most people couldn't. She could be strong, too, if she wanted. She didn't need Harry's help. She could be the one to help him.

Cora reached the lower floor and gasped at the darkness of the entrance. Harry was inside the house, but there was no fire burning inside the crystal balls hanging from the ceiling.

A light was coming from the end of the hall. She followed it. The house was eerily quiet, and her mind tricked her into seeing monsters in every shadowed corner. She could barely hear the soft sound of her steps over her quick breathing. She reached the kitchen door and slowly opened it.

There was a figure heavily leaning against the cooking table, someone that looked just like—

"Harry!" Cora exclaimed, rushing towards him and jumping to the side a moment before her feet could come in contact with the broken glass on the floor. He must've come downstairs to get himself a glass of water, but he'd dropped it—that was the crash she'd heard from her room. Not a thief, not a soldier, but Harry.

Her relief disappeared as soon as she took a good look at him.

His head was low, his hair in his eyes. His shoulders were slumped and his hands were gripping the table tightly and unnaturally. His chest was rising and falling faster than usual, and the table seemed to be the only thing keeping him upright. Apprehension came over Cora, making her heart beat faster and louder.