Lumos/Nox

The Room of Requirement

Fourth year back. It was starting to get a bit tiresome, seeing Eve slowly change from her summer self to this standoffish, nervous wrecking ball of a personality. She had always been so sunny, so barefoot-football-in-a-field-of-daisies golden, but something about going to Hogwarts made her into a whole other creature. Dan sat across from her on the velvet-lined booth seats in the fifth Hogwarts Express cart. She stared out the window, chocolate curls perched limply on her shoulder. The lake falling from the sky in torrents did nothing to help the mood, either.

The trolley lady came along then, clickety clackety cart pushed along like it wasn't a thousand tons heavy. "Can I get you anything, dears?" Her smile was a mixture of honey and maple syrup, sweet but not too sweet. Nothing could ever be too sweet.

Dan smiled at her. He turned to Eve, for a moment, to let her choose first.

"I'm fine, thanks," came the dull reply. She didn't even turn away from her intense examination of the window. It was as if she could see the bacteria wriggling around on the slate in the quarry below.

"Are you sure, dear? We have pumpkin pasties, chocolate frogs, and even some new flavours of Bertie Bott's E–"

"I'm fine, thanks," Eve interrupted, repeating her tone. The bacteria must be expanding.

The lady gave a curt nod and looked at Dan. "And you?" The maple syrup was gone, now, and the honey tasted too much of a bitter flower.

It wouldn't do to not ask for anything, not after Eve's rudeness. "Sure, I'll take a chocolate frog, thanks."

"Seven sickles, then," the trolley lady said. She quickly handed the little embellished box to Dan, briefly smiled, and sulked away. Eve's attitude was positively infectious.

He spun the frog around in his hand, rotating it in his palm like an overly excited merry-go-round. "What'd you do that for?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, come on, Eve. I've known you my whole life. I know there's something up. Just tell me."

"There's nothing up."

"You know I don't believe you."

"Dan, I..." she mumbled something that he couldn't quite make out. "And you barely talk."

"I barely talk? Surely you're the one keeping to yourself."

"I'm just feeling a bit ill. I'll have Madame Pomfrey whip up a Pepperup potion for me when we get there, alright?"

Dan was still unsure. "Okay."

•   •   •   •   •   •   •   •   •   •   •   •

The sorting ceremony was over again. Another year. The feast was same as always, magnificent, but Eve still sat present in his head. What was her deal, really?

Fin was bumped up against him in typical fashion, and Felicity sat across. "You've grown into quite a man, haven't you, Daniel?" She appraised him with a knowing eye. It sent little needles down his spine.

"Ha! Have I?" He said mildly. Felicity was acting rather strange around him now, wasn't she? Shifty eyes and the like. Ah, but now the needles were digging in a little deeper, and any wrong move could paralyse him.

She nodded and reached forward, placing one neatly manicured hand on his shoulder. Her touch was ice, and her breath was cold, too. It smelled like the kind of chocolate that had melted over a dime in the summer. "I've always loved your hair." With a light tug on his curl, she whispered, "You know where to find me."