CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
here comes the night

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HEARTACHE HAS ALWAYS BEEN HER biggest fear, and now it seems that she's come down with a heavy case of it.

She couldn't bear going to last period Herbology after the... confrontation, and her first instinct was to scurry outside under the cover of the burning sunset to tide-message Cordelia. She's the only friend that could really understand what's wrong, what with all the confidentiality hanging over the situation. Cove needs to make amends with her, as well. She's missed her so much over the course of the last few weeks, and she couldn't risk losing her friend because of the whole Remus dilemma — that would just be ridiculous.

The descending sun sends a final blast of warmth across the mountainscape, contouring the weathered rocks with rufescent splendour as the Black Lake glows ever so slightly less murkily in the sprawling light. Glittering like molten gold, almost tempting enough to pull Cove in for a swim amongst the ichorous waters, though she has to stop herself. There are much more important things to do first, however the daylight seems to be hanging around for longer than expected. She can't do it in plain sight for obvious reasons, so she'll just have to improvise.

Instead of her usual place on the sodden banks closer to the castle, she takes a detour and rounds the loch until she's hidden by a thick fir canopy, kneeling on the precipice of the rickety dock. It creaks and groans under her feet, which is very reassuring considering the jagged rocks she can see poking out underneath it. The last thing she needs is for it to collapse on top of them all.

Cove unlatches her seashell necklace from around her neck, holding it over the water and beginning to murmur ancient incantations in Gaelic. She leans down far enough that her fingertips can graze the lapping water surface, messily sketching out the required runes. Relief lightens the burden on her shoulders when a miniature whirlpool begins to tear through the icy water, glowing that familiar cobalt colour she's seen so many times before.

  "Cordelia?"

  A face materialises amidst the maelstrom, black eyes widening at the sight of Cove. Her blonde hair is in two frizzy plaits on either side of her face, bound by bits of black string. There's a new scratch tracing over her cheekbone, concealed by a strand of seaweed that has a healing salve plastered to it. Cove can't tell how deep it is, but it definitely worries her.

  "Rán's net, Cordy," she breathes. "Are you okay?"

  "Nevermind that," she says stonily. Cordelia softens. "What happened to you, lovely? Do you want me to get Lenore?"

  She's very aware of how blotchy her face must look, an amalgamation of zigzagging tear tracks and rosy cheeks. Cove swipes a fallen tear away from her eye, out of sight, yet another droplet of water in the sprawling Black Lake.

  "No!" she rushes out shrilly. "I don't want her to know about this."

  Cordelia lifts her eyebrows. "Don't tell me it's about this human boy again."

  Embarrassed, she nods.

  "What did he do? I'll drown him myself—"

  "Don't do that," Cove sighs. "We had a falling out. I had been avoiding him because of what you told me, but he caught on and tried to confront me about it." She swallows thickly. "It didn't go well."

  "I'm sorry to hear that," Cordelia replies sincerely. "I didn't want to upset you, really. I was only worried that you'd be hurt."

  "No, I understand. It's not a big deal. I suppose I miss him, but have I even lost him in the first place? Oh, Cordy, what if he never talks to me again?"

  Cordelia's expression hardens. "You have to think these things through. Don't torture yourself by being friends with him if you're only going to fall in love all over again."

  I never fell out of love in the first place.

Cove decides not to say that. She hums, twisting a strand of hair around her finger. "Enough about my love life. It only makes me upset. Why were you patching me, anyway?" she asks. "I tried to get through to you the other day but the message wouldn't find you."

Cordelia pauses. Her dark eyes glimmer in the cerulean lighting, round and tired. "Alright. Cove, um, you have to swear to me that you won't get upset if I tell you this."

Her eyebrows furrow. "Now I'm worried. What's going on?"

She takes a deep breath. "A few of us went up to see, um... to go and see Mairi."

"You what?"

"You promised that you'd stay calm!"

  "Well, I wasnae exactly expecting that!"

  Cordelia glares. "Give me a chance to actually speak, please."

  Cove silently ushers her to hurry up and get to the point with a series of protean hand gestures.

   "Your da had left when the tide came in," she begins. "Probably went into town. I've no clue. So, myself and a few others — you know Rona and Alasdair, right? Oh, and Finlay—"

   "My cousin?" she exclaims. "What was he playing at?"

   "He insisted on coming, but that's not the point. We went up to see if she'd been doing alright, since it's been a decade or so since we last spoke to her. It wasn't a complete shambles, mind you! We managed to talk to her for a good hour before we were interrupted. I think, anyways. I can't tell the time."

  "Interrupted?"

  "Well, your father came home earlier than we had expected and he, er, wasn't happy to see us."

  "Cordy, don't tell me—"

  "Aye," she murmurs, pointing to her cheek. "He did this."

  Cove simmers, expression going slack. "I have to go, my love," she says stiffly. "I'll write soon."

  "Please don't do anything irrational. Make good decisions, I beg of you. It'll give me less grey hairs in the long run."

  She hums noncommittally, anger building up inside her. Cove always cries when she's frustrated, and she can feel more tears beading on top of the ones sired from heartbreak.

  "Goodnight, Cordy."

  Cordelia watches her nervously. "Night. Sleep well."

  Just as she says that, it's made clear that Cove had already disappeared in the direction of the castle.

°•.•°•.•°•.•°

  COVE IS FUMING, TO SAY THE VERY least. She's practically tripping over herself trying to get back to her common room, planning out what she'll say in her howler in great detail. The flames dance in the wall sconces, illuminating her path towards her common room and guiding her in the right direction. Her hands and knees are still a bit damp from crouching on the damp old dock, her seashell necklace smattered with freshwater. Her ears ring with a new presence and a frown plays on her face.

  Someone is following her. They've refrained from saying anything just yet, though she can tell they're desperately trying to catch up with her. Their shoes make a racket against the floors, so Cove isn't sure whether or not they're trying to be stealthy. She keeps walking, maintaining a steady pace.

  The person has almost caught up with her. They're in range to hear whatever she says to them, so she graces them with her words. She managed to work out who it is a while ago, but she didn't exactly feel like stopping.

"I'm not in the mood, Regulus," she calls over her shoulder.

  "Henderson! Hold on, Salazar's sake. Why do you walk so quickly?"

  Cove spins on her heel, simmering. "What?" she hisses through clenched teeth. His expression turns stony, eyes narrowing.

  "There are other prefects on patrol where you're headed," Regulus tells her. "You want to go down to your common room, right?" He ignores her look of surprise. "Loop around the other way and you won't get caught."

  She frowns. "Why are you helping me?"

  He rolls his eyes, tapping his foot as if his patience is wearing thin. "You helped me the other day. It's called having manners. I don't know who raised you, but—"

"Yeah, thanks, I got the point."

Regulus frowns. "Are you alright?"

She glares at him. "Yes."

There's a pause.

"...Really?"

  Cove arches an eyebrow, jaw clenched. She looks at him in exasperation before turning back around and begging

  "You're welcome," he projects his voice down the length of the hall, sarcasm evident.

  She stops in her tracks, meeting his eyes for a few seconds. "Thanks for telling me, Regulus," she says softly. "You're a good friend."

  His ears burn. "Whatever," he huffs. "Don't get put in detention. Or do. See if I care." He shoulders past her, muttering bitterly under his breath.

  She huffs a laugh, starting to retrace her steps and swerve around the longer way. The portraits watch her intently as she goes past, holding the breath that they don't have. An eternity in oil paint must make you nosy.

  "Cove?" he calls down the corridor again, this time quietly, almost as an afterthought.

  She looks at him through slightly blurry vision, nodding so that he continues. They really have to stop doing this.

  "Don't cry," he says, trying to harshen his words so that they don't sound as comforting. "You're too good for him, anyways."

  Cove blinks rapidly, but her shock fades into a smile. "Cheers," she replies shortly, awkwardly. What else is she really supposed to say?

He simply scoffs and walks away.

author's note!

i'm so excited for what i have planned next chapter 😍😍