051. through the door*

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CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE:

THROUGH THE DOOR

               Three days had passed since Sirius died.

                Three days since the ships had cut through the ocean carrying what was left of Merlin away from the burning island. Three days since anyone had seen Aurora Black.

                  Morning light filtered through the ships, pale and dull against the long wooden ships. Around the place, people sat on the deck, children on their laps. There were plates sat half–touched in front of them, bread gone dry, and tea gone cold. No one had much of an appetite.

                             Hermione sat near the end of the ship, her hands wrapped around a mug she had not drank from in nearly twenty minutes. Across from her, Ron leaned back slightly in his chair, a thick white bandage wrapped over his missing eye. The patch covered nearly half his face. His skin was still pale, but the colour had started to return.

                 "You shouldn't be sitting up that long," Hermione said quietly.

                 Ron gave a tired shrug. "Been lying down for three days."

               "Because you nearly died," Hermione replied.

               "I wish I did," Ron muttered.

               George, sitting beside him, huffed a quiet laugh that died quickly in the air.

              "Good look though," Fred added, nodding toward the eye patch. "Very pirate."

               Ron rolled his remaining eye. "Brilliant, exactly what I have always wanted to be referred to as." he said flatly.

              Across the way, James had barely touched his food. His hands were clasped together in front of him, his gaze fixed on the piece of toast on his lap  like he had been reading it for hours.

                            Remus sat beside him, watching him quietly from time to time. His own tea had long since gone cold. His face looked older somehow. The grey in his hair seemed more noticeable now.

                     Further down, Louis picked at a piece of toast without interest.

                    Harry sat next to his father, but was leaning forward slightly, elbows on his knees as the sickness of the sea had started to get to him.  He hadn't slept much. None of them had.

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