Delirium

Chapter 35 - Moonlight

~*~

Outside the castle's entrance, just past eleven, Jolie was met with the merciless winter night air, the sun long settled beneath the horizon. Wind blustered around the hem of her robe, the cold nipping at her cheeks, biting at her nose.

She clenched her hands into fists, crossing her arms and trying to keep her fingers warm as she scanned over the stone dais.

Save for the fluttering glow of the two lit torches on either side of the great mahogany doors and the swaying trees beyond, there wasn't any noticeable movement she could see.

Granted, George hadn't exactly told her where to meet him. Just to come find him 'outside'. Wherever that may be.

She hoped he understood just how vast these grounds were.

Taking careful, quiet steps, she walked to the stairs, glancing over the surroundings.

Nothing.

Not allowing herself to feel disheartened just yet, she began to descend, shuddering as the wind whipped her hair around, whistling in her ears.

She should've casted another Warming Charm before leaving the comfort of the castle. But getting out her wand now would require her to open her hands, exposing her fingers to the icy wind.

She'd manage.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she no longer had the glow of the torches to light her way. If she stuck out her hand, she doubted she'd even be able to see it. The darkness was overwhelming, making her breath quicken.

And as much as it could aid her, a Lumos might also cost her. It would reveal her location in a heartbeat should a professor be awake, glancing from any window on the North side of the castle.

Jolie knew these grounds, though.

She would manage.

Sucking in a deep lungful of freezing air, Jolie began walking again.

After only a moment, the huge, ominous outline of the North bridge began to materialise, growing larger as she approached.

She kept on, stepping onto the bridge's wooden planks as she trusted her feet to get her safely across, moving quickly.

Her arms tightened further over her chest, her jaw clenching to keep from shivering as she tried to ignore the stomach-churning, heart-dropping creaks and groans of the wooden beams beneath her, the gusting wind only making the sounds worsen.

As she finally reached the other side, stepping onto the sturdy, reassuring stone, she released a long breath, having held it the last twenty steps after a particularly powerful blast of wind swept through the bridge, nearly making her stumble.

She glanced behind, back at the castle.

The torches at the doors were two small specks of orange light now. Scattered windows and alcoves all along the North face and East and West wings glowed with warm, gentle light within.

At the tallest tower—Gryffindor Tower—Jolie could just see shadows of wizards and witches passing by the windows, heading up to their dorms far past their bedtimes as they climbed the spiralling staircases.

She turned back around, quietly calming herself.

George was not one of them.

He was out here, waiting to meet with her. He had told her to meet him. He was here.