27It had been a glorious summer. Days had seemed to stretch out before them, and for a while, Larna had no understanding of time. Rather, every minute spent with Fred was, to her, the epitome of perfection. She and Fred had both chosen to ignore the fact that in three weeks, two weeks, 7 days time, Larna would be returning to Hogwarts for the beginning of her sixth year - without her beloved.
'And now I miss him,' Larna thought longingly, being shaken from her memories by Padma Patil, who stirred in the bed next to hers. Having only been back at Hogwarts for two days, and with lessons starting tomorrow, Larna resigned herself to sleeping, rather than spending the night thinking about Fred. His bubbly, infectious giggle; that radiant smile of his, reserved only for her... 'No!' Larna scolded herself aloud, 'Now is not the time to become caught up in those little details which are sure to make me an insomniac'. However, the 16-year-old Ravenclaw slept fitfully, with Fred constantly on her mind.
'Fred!', Larna called frantically. 'Fred, where are you?'
'I'm here, baby, I'm here,' Fred replied in his soothing voice, but Larna couldn't see him. 'I'm here Larna. Larna. Larna!'
The young girl was awoken by Padma, shaking her and calling her. Beads of sweat dripped from her forehead and she was shivering uncontrollably.
'What's wrong?' Padma asked, her voice tinged with worry. 'I thought you wouldn't wake up; it's like you were having a fit or something!'
'I'm fine Padma, honestly', Larna replied, somewhat wearily. 'Just a bad dream.'
'So long as you're sure', the other girl murmured, before crossing the room to the doorway.
With Padma gone, Larna took a few moments to gather herself together. 'This has to stop', she thought sternly. Moving through the beds to enter the bathroom, she stared blankly at her reflection in the mirror. 'I look a mess', a voice at the back of her head registered, but somehow, Larna couldn't bring herself to care. Her face remained emotionless as she washed and dressed quickly. When it seemed she could delay no longer, she reluctantly headed down to breakfast to face the day ahead.
'Come on, you have to eat something', Cho Chang said to Larna, almost desperately. The girl had barely eaten two bites of toast and as far as she cared, she didn't want anymore.
A dreamy voice which seemed thousands of miles away reached her ears from her left. 'She's right, you know', breathed the strange and kindly Luna Lovegood.
'I can't deal with this anymore', thought Larna, who had begun to feel claustrophobic. Just as she was leaving the breakfast table, an owl came diving towards her and landed in an untouched glass of pumpkin juice. Larna paused by the ravenclaw table, and the white bird took this as her cue to stick her leg out at the girl, to which was tied a letter. At this Larna's eyes, those pools of deep green which had remained dark ever since she had left Fred at the Burrow, lit up magnificently. The reason was obvious to the surrounding pupils; on that letter was undoubtedly her boyfriend's curly script. From the look on Larna's face, it seemed Christmas had come early. Without a second's hesitation, she grabbed the letter off the indignant owl and murmured a quick 'Thank you' before running from the Great Hall towards Ravenclaw tower.
Excitement vibrated through her body in waves as she moved as fast as her legs could carry her towards the Ravenclaw common room. The sight of his familiar font, the idea of his forming of the words currently residing on the envelope she was holding - Larna thought she had awoken from a long, terrible nightmare, into a world of colour and happiness. Reaching the door to the tower, she paused, cursing the security mechanism which meant she had to answer a riddle in order to pass.
'What question can never be answered by a living soul?' the door asked nonchalantly.
'Oh I don't know!' Larna replied impatiently. 'Just let me in, please!'
'That is incorrect', answered the door, in the same uncaring tone as previously.
'Okay, okay, wait!' Larna cried, her tone of voice bordering on one of desperation. 'Um... ooh, I know!' the girl said suddenly, her Ravenclaw qualities having kicked in. 'The answer is, 'What is it like to be dead?'
'Very smart', the door remarked approvingly, before swinging open to allow her entry into the tower. Once inside, Larna found the common room empty, and therefore collapsed onto a blue sofa by the fire, impatience overcoming her need for privacy.
In an almost reverent manner, she lifted the tightly gripped letter in her hand to her nose, and sniffed it savouringly. She could have imagined it, but to anyone who asked she would swear she could smell the vanilla, homely scent of Fred Weasley on the brown parchment she held as though her life depended on it. Glancing up for a second, Larna read the inscription above the mantelpiece, one she knew so well.
'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure.'
'And Fred is mine', the sixteen-year-old thought to herself. Finally, she steeled herself, refusing to cry, and opened the envelope in her hand. Pulling out the single sheet of parchment inside, she began to read.
'My dear Larna...'