godsent | h. potter

two.

THE DESCENT OF DUSK

The pale moonlight pools on the warm dormitory floor like a pool of liquid silver, highlighting the deeply troubled expression etched on the youthful face of Patricia Jackson, now living under the alias of Pat Waterson. A cold sort of calm embraces her figure as the demigod sits silently on the warm maroon rug on the floor of her shared dorm room with Hermione Granger, Lavender Brown, and Parvati Patil.

Sea green orbs stared into the dark room, observing and calculating. It scanned every crook and cranny, engraving the details of the room in memory. Slim, calloused fingers traced several escape routes on the smooth, maroon cotton.

While the rest of the world slumbers, thoughts free from the incessant frivolities of the world around them, Patricia Jackson listens, observes, and thinks. If there was one thing that she was proud of, it was her ability to observe, plan, and adapt. Her relatively soft-spoken nature allows her to be in more control of her thoughts and emotions, allowing her the ease of spotting even the tiniest of details. It was what generally set her apart from her twin, who was outspoken and much more impulsive. 

The silent demigod does a final sweep of the room to ensure that her clueless roommates were deep in sleep before slowly leaving, taking refuge under the graceful cloak of darkness the evening provided. She slips through the opening of the Fat Lady's painting, careful not to wake the boisterous woman and alert others of her escape.

Hogwarts at night felt eerie, a stark contrast to its jovial and welcoming aura by day. The empty hallways were cold and gave the looming sense of danger. Patricia unsheathed whirlpool, the celestial bronze weapon glinting under the moonlight and providing the demigod just enough light to navigate through the unfamiliar terrain.

For hours, Patricia felt her way around the vast expanse of the castle with nothing but her sword's dim light and the self-assurance that she had correctly remembered the right turns and stairs to take. That night, the demigod discovers two secret passageways that she, after recalling the time, would have to revisit once daybreak arrives. However, the rest of her little venture proves otherwise fruitless as she returns to the Fat Lady's portrait with a somber expression.

The Fat Lady, now  awake and thoroughly surprised by her appearance, chastised, "Wandering the halls at night? Are you aware of the repercussi-"

"Fortuna Major." interrupted Patricia impatiently, her arms folded and eyebrows knitted. With a roll of her eyes, the Fat Lady's Portrait swings open and Patricia finds herself back at the warm Gryffindor common room.

Settling down on one of the couches near the dying embers of the fireplace with a huff, Patricia closes her eyes as she processes all the information she had gathered the moment she woke up in the hospital wing that morning. Lost in thought, the brunette failed to notice the presence of another person in the room. 

Harry Potter had his emerald green eyes trained on the emaciated figure of the beautiful girl just beside him, forgetting about his letter from Sirius Black and the nightmare that had been plaguing his evenings. He had been having a rough day, just like her, and had decided to seek comfort in the silence of the common room at night to be left alone with his thoughts. 

Pat Waterson, to Harry, looked absolutely flawless. He could not fathom what made him think of her that way, maybe its the fierce way she held herself, as if she had all the confidence in the world that nothing could cross paths against her and live to tell the tale. Or perhaps it was the look in her swirling sea green eyes, telling him wondrous tales of freedom and adventure. He did not know who Pat Waterson was, and he had an inkling that he would never truly know such an enigma like her, but she reminded him of the day his life changed forever. She reminded him of the ravaging sea situated next to the hut where he had spent the night of his eleventh birthday. It was relentless, unforgiving, and fierce, yet beautiful. It pulled him in, called out to him and invited him to lose himself in the cool waters.