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    𝐀𝐖𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐘 𝐀 faint rustling of paper, George jolted up behind the curtains of his four-poster, his heart thumping wildly in his chest as the events of the previous day washed over him: Luxanna Black... The rumours... Moody... Ah, fuck... He touched a hand to his forehead to wipe the cold sweat, his head pounding. Judging by the pale ray of sunlight that crept through the gap in his curtain, it couldn't have been more than six o'clock, but he'd been in and out of sleep, haunted by strange dreams all night. Dreams that had summoned Black's half-conscious face into his mind, pestering him even in his sleep.

    It happened during the free period yesterday. Fred and George, along with the other few sixth-year Quidditch members had gone to their pitch to kill some time before. After a gruesome two versus two defeat at the hands of Lee and Angelina, the group returned to the castle, with George promising to do a better job of blocking next time. They were on their way towards Gryffindor Tower for a change of clothes when they happened upon the scene in the corridor: some thirty dozen students had crowded in front of the entrance to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, blocking the passage entirely.

    "I'm jealous," Fred chimed in. "You and I have never had an audience that large."

    "Wonder what happened," said George.

    "Probably Moody exercising the Cruciatus Curse on a first year or something," said Lee

    Fred turned to the pair of older girls who were fleeing the scene at a quick stride. "I don't suppose you have any idea what all this is about?" he asked them, but they only fastened their pace, ignoring him.

    It wasn't long before George found the answer himself. The humid air appeared to shrink into a bubble as they approached, confining him into a sense of unease and trepidation that the group before him seemed to share, with all their subdued mutterings and gasps. Still dripping mud all over the ground, George battled his way through the thick of the crowd until he arrived at the front, where a few students clung to the barrier between classroom and corridor as though there'd been an invisible wall placed there, preventing them from moving any further. Alicia, who had stayed behind at the school while they played, was one of the people among them.

    "Hey, what—" he began, but cut himself short by the inward gasp that escaped him as he laid eyes on Black.

    She lay sprawled across the classroom floor, back turned towards them, face planted on the ground and knees curled into her chest. The palms which were spread flat upon the parquet were as white as chalk, and he might have thought her dead if not for the strained breaths which emitted from her lungs in a struggle to keep her own consciousness afloat.

    "What happened?" he managed to get out in a tone less eager than before.

    "She was about to attack Professor Moody, I think—I don't know, I wasn't here, but he, uh, he got her first," Alicia explained, stuttering slightly.

    "What?"

    "He went to get help, I think. He told us not to touch her, and to stay outside until the Aurors arrive."

    "Wh— Aurors?" George rounded on her, tilting his head down. "What? Why?"

    She gave him a definitive look that he did not understand, brown eyes wide and inscrutable. "You don't know?" she simply said.