SEA, SWALLOW ME, remus lupin

dhà air fichead, here comes the night

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
here comes the night

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HEARTACHE HAS ALWAYS BEEN HER biggest fear, and now it seems that she's come down with a heavy case of it.

She couldn't bear going to last period Herbology after the... confrontation, and her first instinct was to scurry outside under the cover of the burning sunset to tide-message Cordelia. She's the only friend that could really understand what's wrong, what with all the confidentiality hanging over the situation. Cove needs to make amends with her, as well. She's missed her so much over the course of the last few weeks, and she couldn't risk losing her friend because of the whole Remus dilemma — that would just be ridiculous.

The descending sun sends a final blast of warmth across the mountainscape, contouring the weathered rocks with rufescent splendour as the Black Lake glows ever so slightly less murkily in the sprawling light. Glittering like molten gold, almost tempting enough to pull Cove in for a swim amongst the ichorous waters, though she has to stop herself. There are much more important things to do first, however the daylight seems to be hanging around for longer than expected. She can't do it in plain sight for obvious reasons, so she'll just have to improvise.

Instead of her usual place on the sodden banks closer to the castle, she takes a detour and rounds the loch until she's hidden by a thick fir canopy, kneeling on the precipice of the rickety dock. It creaks and groans under her feet, which is very reassuring considering the jagged rocks she can see poking out underneath it. The last thing she needs is for it to collapse on top of them all.

Cove unlatches her seashell necklace from around her neck, holding it over the water and beginning to murmur ancient incantations in Gaelic. She leans down far enough that her fingertips can graze the lapping water surface, messily sketching out the required runes. Relief lightens the burden on her shoulders when a miniature whirlpool begins to tear through the icy water, glowing that familiar cobalt colour she's seen so many times before.

  "Cordelia?"

  A face materialises amidst the maelstrom, black eyes widening at the sight of Cove. Her blonde hair is in two frizzy plaits on either side of her face, bound by bits of black string. There's a new scratch tracing over her cheekbone, concealed by a strand of seaweed that has a healing salve plastered to it. Cove can't tell how deep it is, but it definitely worries her.

  "Rán's net, Cordy," she breathes. "Are you okay?"

  "Nevermind that," she says stonily. Cordelia softens. "What happened to you, lovely? Do you want me to get Lenore?"

  She's very aware of how blotchy her face must look, an amalgamation of zigzagging tear tracks and rosy cheeks. Cove swipes a fallen tear away from her eye, out of sight, yet another droplet of water in the sprawling Black Lake.

  "No!" she rushes out shrilly. "I don't want her to know about this."

  Cordelia lifts her eyebrows. "Don't tell me it's about this human boy again."

  Embarrassed, she nods.

  "What did he do? I'll drown him myself—"