EXIT

26. THESTRAL BLACK

26. THESTRAL BLACK

The only reason I don't jump out of bed immediately when there's a knock on the door of my sleeping quarters the night after the reconnaissance at the Nott Estate is that it can't be Granger, as she's still in the trauma room due to her regrowing ankle. I know this because Blaise told me over lunch, shaking his head, that since she has to stay there another night, she's requested all the blueprints and notes so she can review them in her sickbed. (Classic Granger.)

I sigh and grab my wand, which is thankfully within easy reach on the bedside table, before opening the door with a quick flick of my wrist.

The sight of the person who then enters the room surprises me so much that I sit up with a jerk. For various reasons. Firstly, because I least expected her. Secondly, because she's not wearing Resistance workout clothes or combat gear but sweatpants and a thick Thestral black parka. And thirdly, because she's holding two bottles of Butterbeer, which she clinks together with a grin before nodding toward the door.

"Can I talk you into a drink?" is her nonchalant and unexpected question that makes my head spin and my jaw drop.

It takes me a few seconds to process her words, then I nod, swing my legs out of bed, slip on my boots and robes, and follow Ginny into the hallway.

***

As we step onto the flat roof of St. Mungo's, a whirl of thick, white snowflakes awaits us. So far they aren't staying on the warm roofing felt of the building, but if the weather holds, it won't be long before they do. Temperatures have been below freezing for several nights.

Ginny hands me one of the two bottles before drawing her wand and pointing it first at herself and then at me, casting a Warming Charm on each of us. Then she leans against the outer wall of the lift cabin and looks calmly into the snow-flecked night. I follow suit, uncorking my Butterbeer and taking the first sip.

As I watch the snowflakes dance, I consciously relax my shoulders and try not to worry about why we're here in the first place; what kind of conversation Ginny might want to have with me. She'll speak when she's ready, I'm sure.

The silence that the snow brings in its wake is breathtaking. It's so quiet, so peaceful, you'd think we weren't in the middle of a war that's been raging for over seven years. The minutes fly by and I have to admit that I'm enjoying the unlooked-for joint trip. The fresh air is good.

My bottle is half-empty when Ginny breaks our mutual silence for the first time.

"You're not the kind of person who gives up easily."

It's a statement, not a question. I frown and give her a quick questioning look, but don't answer. I assume she'll get to the point any time soon — at her own pace.

Of course, I'm not let down.

"When you really want something, you're persistent, aren't you? After all, you've been trying to get rid of your Dark Mark for a whopping seven years, even though you couldn't be sure it would ever work."

"I had no other choice, I'd say," I reply, shrugging.

My eyebrows knit together. What is she getting at?

"Well, I beg to differ," she says quite seriously. "There's always a choice and you made yours. You could have chosen to accept your fate, but you didn't. For what it's worth, I don't think you're the type to just put up with something you're convinced is wrong."

There is silence again for a few minutes. Feeling slightly uncomfortable, I shuffle my feet and, in order to do anything at all, raise my own wand to refresh Ginny's Warming Charm. She acknowledges it with a grateful nod.