Shadows fell over the town that evening. The street was lit only by the dim lights on either side, casting a glowing path down the road. It was as though a silencing spell had been placed upon the city - not one bird sang, not one car passed by. Even their footsteps were muted as they walked quietly down the road, neither daring to speak.
There was a quiet click as Al opened the door. He stepped inside, sparing a short glance at Scorpius. The simple action made his heart beat about a million times faster. He quickly adverted his gaze, looking instead to the clock upon the wall. It was half past eleven, and Al thought the last few days had gone by quicker than ever. The fifteenth of December was quickly approaching, and he was dreading the events more and more each day.
He forced the thoughts out of his mind. He had enough to worry about as it was, and he didn't need anything else to stress about.
A dark figure came slinking out of the shadows. It slowly crossed the room, lurking in the darkest parts, hardly visible in the dim lights. Al reached over and turned on the light, giving the room a bit more visibility.
The dark figure meowed.
"My child! I missed you!" declared Scorpius. He scooped the cat into his arms and held him up to admire. The poor animal gave a pitiful squeak, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. Scorpius reluctantly released the cat, watching as he crossed the room in a couple strides.
"Clearly it's unrequited," said Al. The black cat made his way towards him, brushing against his legs and trying to get his attention. "I think you and I both know who his favourite is."
"For now."
Albus smiled, but said nothing. Instead, he sat on the couch and clicked a button to turn on the television. The screen came to life abruptly, volume starting up and shattering the silence. Scorpius settled into the couch beside him and spared the television a glance but paid minimal attention to it.
"For the sixth time this week, there has been a disappearance. This time, the victim in question is a twenty-two year old woman by the name of Isolde Burroughs from a small town called Godric's Hollow. Little is known about. . ."
The news segment droned on and on about the latest events, but Albus could hardly bring himself to pay attention. With every word, he found himself falling farther and farther into the black pit of hopelessness. It was so easy to just give in and spend the rest of his days dreaming of everything that could go wrong, convincing himself of every last possible outcome, pondering Delphi's motives until it drove him to insanity.
He hadn't even worried until that week. Well, of course he'd worried, but not like this. As the day approached, he found himself increasingly fearful of what was going to happen. Everything felt so wrong all the time, and he couldn't place why.
Maybe she was trying to scare them into acting. Maybe she was trying to worry them. Maybe she was trying to make them obsess over something useless because she found it funny. Maybe it was all a part of something bigger.
The last one played on Albus's mind constantly. The thought repeated itself in his head all day until he gave in and started pondering the possibilities, wondering what was going to happen. It was beginning to feel impossible, that they would never be able to understand.
Three days.
Three more days, and then they would be able to find out.
"We don't have much time left, do we?" said Albus, very quietly.
Scorpius hesitated before responding, as though he didn't want to say the answer aloud. "No," he said carefully, "We really don't."
Fractured memories blinked in and out like flashes of lightning. Each sent his mind into a frenzy, a mess of incomplete, panicked thoughts. The storm of memories flooded forward, and no matter how he fought, he couldn't seem to push them back.
