𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲 | 𝐝.𝐦.

thirteen

Betty wakes to a crisp shake on her shoulder. Her eyes flutter open, adjusting slowly to the surroundings of the Ravenclaw common room, which she hasn't realised she had fallen asleep in.

She was doing her homework prior to dozing off and drooling over the vacant, marble desk. But ostensibly, she'd gotten bored with the words incised on each pages of her book.

She turns, ever so leisurely, to find a panicked, panting Hermione jerking her awake. Her golden brown eyes are occluded by agitation and visible annoyance, the mixture of emotions are even notched on her florid face.

"Wake up, Betty!" she whispers loudly by the girl's ear, but not loud enough to alarm the entire common room.

A few fifth-years and sixth-years are still inhabiting the space by the silky couch and the furry plushies, busying themselves with a game of wizard's chess they'd borrowed from the games column.

Amongst them, some gives Hermione curious glances, wondering why a Gryffindor was in their common room in the dead of the night. But Hermione ignores the bunch of them.

The disheveled girl sitting by the windows lift her head, rubs her eyes. "What - how did you get in here, Mione? It's already so late," she mumbles despite her dry throat.

"A kind second-year let me in," she tells her warmly, then shakes her head, banishing that tenderness. "But now's not the time for questions. We have to go - it's incredibly urgent!"

Betty is still weary from her small nap, but she stands anyway, and allows Hermione to drag her off, out of the common room, despite the watchful gazes of the other students.

"Will you tell me what's happened that requires you to wake me up at midnight?" Betty finally questions when she feels her thought and consciousness clearing up.

"Oh, like you were really sleeping anyway," Hermione says, tugging her down the spiral stairwell of the Ravenclaw tower.

"I actually was, until you woke me up," Betty informs her, "I wasn't planning to wake till morning - when classes begin."

Hermione doesn't halt when she says, "Oh, my bad then."

"So, what happened?"

The bushy-haired girl's head slumps, and she halts in her tracks, causing Betty to do the same. When Hermione faces Betty, the uneasiness on her now pale face frightens the other girl. Hermione grapples with the thoughts scrambling through her head.

"It's Ronald," she finally admits, voice quaking with worry. Betty swears she sees Hermione's eyes water. "Harry says he's been poisoned."

--

The hallway is as pitch dark as it is tranquil, contrary to the pair of friend's feelings.

Betty is unable to hide the tears brimming her eyes, the sharp qualm of remorse in her chest, and the myriad of thoughts swarming through her head, pushing her conscience to the edge of her mind even further.

Matters haven't been disclosed yet, Hermione has said under Betty's persistent interrogation that she, too, hasn't a clue what had happened. Only that Harry had entered the common room in a hurry, conveyed the dire message to a couple of ill-stricken fourth-years that Ron had been poisoned and was lying almost half-dead in the infirmary, and had called for the sleeping Hermione to join him at the infirmary.

Hermione hadn't wanted to go alone, so she chose to make a stop at the Ravenclaw tower, hoping Betty might accompany her, soothe her worries. But Betty is doing none of that, only aggravating the young girl's fears.

The infirmary, with the large cross resting above its great doors, come to view. And Harry emerges from behind a dirty pillar, a relieved smile faintly plastered on his face despite the worry lines that crease his face and the tint of green flowing over his complexion.