Nightmares and Nocturnes

The Wolf in Wait

Chapter 9: The Wolf in Wait

The day boy resolved to know the darkness, just as he resolved to know the night girl as his guide; for in the absence of his will, she had been his refuge; and when he spoke of darkness, her eyes glimmered to bring him light. In the wake of his own collapse, he struggled to his feet, determined to master his own bravery, and to sink his teeth into the prospects of the night.

But he, having resolved to wade through the hazards of the dark, took blow after blow from his efforts, brought low by his hazardous expeditions; the grand health, the blessed constitution over which the monster had taken such pains - blessing him with light, and showering him with favor - yielded, and he found himself in pain and misery, a victim of his own wandering. Each day he tried anew to bully his way through the darkness, gloried in his pride, only to find himself collapsed upon the ground, his enfeebled mind drifting helplessly to the night girl's eyes, bright as the sun itself against the punishment of dark.

Alas, he thought, shivering in the night; did his courage amount to but a trick of sunlight on his brain? Was he nothing more than a toy, tossed between the light and the dark? Oh he was, he thought, he was; and what a poor contemptible creature for it.

. . . . . . . .

1998

. . . . . . . .

"I still don't think this was a very good idea, Mione," Ron sighed, leaping to her side as he heard a crack from a branch nearby. "This isn't exactly my happy place."

"Well we didn't come to get happy, did we?" Hermione countered, nudging him with her elbow and flashing him a look of impatience. "You said you were bored, and anyway, I can't stand it anymore." She shuddered. "It's been a month, and nobody's - "

She broke off. Nobody's put him to rest, she thought, but couldn't gather the necessary strength to say the words. They felt heavy in her throat, sticky; a pill she would never manage to swallow. "Think about what he did for Dobby," she choked out, fighting the constant sting behind her eyes. "And how nobody has even thought to - "

Ron let his hand slip to her wrist, gripping it tightly. "You know I agree with you," he murmured quietly, letting his fingers twine comfortingly between hers. "You know I feel the same way."

She sighed, closing her eyes and forcing her grief aside.

"I know," she said finally, removing her hand from his and straightening briskly. "I just wish you would stop complaining." He opened his mouth to argue and she cut him off with a firm slicing gesture. "I know preciselyhow many times you almost died here, Ronald, I do not need you to remind me - "

Ron cut her off with a whimper. "What was that?" he asked, craning to look through the trees. "Did you hear that?"

Hermione huffed indignantly, swallowing her nerves and channeling her pain into purposeful, brusque annoyance. "You'll have to stop hiding from your own shadow," she informed him, yanking him along behind her. "We can't spend all day here, you know."

Ron remained unconvinced. "I'm telling you," he insisted, "I heard something - "

"I'm sure you did," Hermione said, now starting to wonder if she also heard something, or if Ron was just needlessly infecting her with paranoia. "This is a forest, Ronald, I don't know what kind of atmosphere you are expecting, but noises are part of the - "

She cut off, hearing a loud crack, and Ron yelped, clinging to her side.

"Hermione," he began, "I really think we should - "