Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine, including them traveling back on the boats as part of their gradutation ceremony, the idea for which came from an interview that JKR gave with the Leaky Cauldron.
A/N; Written for the First Ever Forum Collaboration at the NextGen Fanatics Forum, the theme for which was 'Beginnings.' It's much too late, so it isn't a part of the collab, but that was where my inspiration came from.
Dedicated to Blue (BlueEyes444) - Happy (Very Belated) Birthday!
That Still Purple Sky
The other first years crowded around him on the platform, some chattering in a nervous, frightened way, others staring wide-eyed at their surroundings. The older students pushed past them, calling out to friends and exclaiming greetings, heads held high, almost seeming to be glorifying in their experience, their maturity. They were more interested in one another's new stories, tan lines, and robes than the scenery that they had all seen before. Most of them paid no attention to the first years, with their wide-open mouths and gasps of awe, but a few smiled condescendingly down at them, as though pretending they had never been so small.
Lysander had never been one to be intimidated easily – he supposed it was because of his parents – but for once, he did not say anything. Instead, he gazed up at the sky, streaked with bright indigos and deep purples, the thin, glimmering rays of the sun only barely visible now as it slipped away behind the horizon. His brother shifted slightly next to him, drawing breath as he too, looked upwards. His eyes were wide, their usual blue – the exact shade as his own – nearly violet in the reflected light. Lorcan's fingers twitched, as though already imagining the strokes he would make with his paintbrush.
A large hawk flew overhead and Lysander's eyes were drawn once more to the sky. He wondered what they all looked like, seen from above – probably just seemed like one big mass of trembling children, collective, indistinguishable… In the whole crowd, there was not one of them that stood out.
"James!" the shout cut through the bustle like a knife, and he turned his eyes away from the sky to see Lily Potter. He smiled at the sight of her – brown eyes flashing, long, tangled red hair streaming behind her, freckles stark in their indignation as she struggled with her brother, who was pulling her towards the other first years. "Leave me alone!"
James rolled his eyes, and looked around, as if checking to see who was watching. Then, leaning down beside her, he snarled, "You're not supposed to go down by the carriages –"
"I wanted to see the thestrals!" she protested, trying in vain to yank free of his grip.
"You can't see them, idiot!" he said, as if she was the dumbest thing in the world. "You've never seen anyone snuff it! Besides – thestrals are evil." He smirked. "You're lucky one of them didn't take a bite out of your face!"
"I don't believe you," she said contemptuously, finally pulling herself free and crossing her arms.
"Yeah? How do you think Uncle George lost his ear, then?"
"In the war!" she said. "I'm not stupid –"
Another voice interrupted their argument. "Firs' years! Firs' years this way!"
"Hagrid!" Lily shouted, completely forgetting her brother, who shrugged, obviously still annoyed, before scampering off to catch up with his friends.
Most of the first years drew back as the speaker came into view – a huge, hulking man, swinging a lantern in his oversized fist. Lysander watched as Lily reached him, and was swept into a hug, her tiny body looking as it would be squashed in his hands.
At last, he set her down, wiping his eyes. "It seems like only yesterday I was takin' yer dad down to the castle, and now his little girl has started at Hogwarts." He sniffled, wiping his nose off with his sleeve, an action, which for a man his size, seemed almost oxymoronic. "The last little Potter." With that, he set off, swinging the lantern behind him, Lily skipping along at his side, the rest of the first years following rather apprehensively.
"Come on," Lysander said, grabbing Lorcan's arm and trying to push through the throng towards Lily and Hagrid, but they had entered a very narrow, dark path now, and everyone was packed too tightly together for them to squeeze through. He had to settle, instead, for looking at the scenery. Lysander liked nature – again, he supposed it was because to his parents – but the little light that had been lingering when they got off the train was fading now, and in any case, they had no view of anything more interesting than the patches of brambles that ran along either side of the path. The castle was not in sight yet.
He strained his eyes, trying to catch Lily and Hagrid's conversation, but the wind was blowing away from him, and the words were lost. "Reckon we've nearly reached the castle now?" he asked his twin after several minutes.
Lorcan shrugged. "Hope so. Hagrid does know where he's taking us – right?"
As if in answer, Hagrid bellowed, "Jus' another turn here… there yeh are, there's Hogwarts!"
There was a sharp intake of breath from the whole group, except perhaps Lily, who had bragged to the Scamanders a few hours earlier that of course she'd seen the castle before. But he wondered if even she might have been surprised, for surely she'd never seen it at night. It looked so very auspicious, sitting there, atop a huge hill, its many towers twisting towards the clouds, its bright windows shining as if in welcome. The huge lake was spread out in front of it, glittering like liquid gold as it reflected the quickly-disappearing rays of the sun.
"Wow," Lorcan said, at a loss of words, trying to take it all in, his left hand twitching again. Lysander, too, was taken aback by the sight of the castle that would now be his home for the next seven years.
"But how will we get across?" the girl next to him whispered nervously, and he blinked. The question had never occurred to him.
But Hagrid had led them closer now, and soon they could see a group of tiny boats bobbing in the still water in front of them. "No more'n four in each," he said, pointing towards then with one massive finger. "C'mon, now."
As the first years all climbered into boats, Lysander and Lorcan were at last able to push through the crowd towards Lily.
"Hey, Ly!" she called cheerily. "Hello, Lor! Where have you two been?"
"Where have we been?" Lysander said, and the three of them climbed into a boat. "You were with us on the train one minute and the next –"
"I wanted to see the thestrals!" she exclaimed.
"So did I!" he said. "You should have taken us with you –"
"But neither of you could have seen them anyway," Lorcan pointed out, the voice of reason. "You've never seen anyway, well, you know –"
"You sound like James," Lily said, sounding a little cross, but Lysander wasn't listening; a few feet away, the water had bubbled, and he leaned closer, thinking he could see a long dark tentacle under the surface…
His foot slipped, and suddenly his face was inches from the black water. "Help!"
Immediately, he felt someone grab his legs, hauling him back into the boat, which was rocking now by the shift in weight, sending ripples out over the still water. "What in the name of Merlin were you doing?" Lily laughed.
He eyed the black water, but saw nothing. "I thought I saw the Giant Squid!"
Lorcan laughed. "Sure you did… Would've served you right if it pulled you under!"
Hagrid, in his own boat in front of them, turned around. "Everything all righ' back there?"
"Everything's fine," Lily giggled, before changing the subject. "Can Lorcan and Lysander come over for tea on Friday too, Hagrid?"
"'Course," the big man growled, still eyeing them suspiciously. "But are yeh sure –"
"Can we have a look in the Forbidden Forest?" Lysander said eagerly.
"Not on yer –" Hagrid started, but Lorcan interrupted.
"Duck!" he shouted, as the huge cliff face loomed in front of them; Hagrid only just got his head out of the way in time. Their boat followed him almost immediately, giving him one last glance of the purple-streaked sky before they were plunged into blackness. The lake seemed to flow right under Hogwarts itself in some sort of tunnel. Almost unconsciously, he reached out for Lorcan's hand and felt Lily grasp for his other one.
"I s'pose you three are goin' to be trouble," Hagrid said, almost resignedly, his voice cutting through the sheer blackness.
"Of course," Lily whispered, her voice carrying through the darkness.
"Of course," Lorcan echoed.
"We will," he himself, Lysander Scamander, promised, as their boat hit the rocks, and they clambered out, through and unlit passageway and up a flight of stairs, leading all the first years now, still holding hands.
"I can't bloody believe it's the end of seventh year," Lily said, twirling across the grass over to where Lorcan hunched over a very thick textbook and knocking it out of his hands. "Our seventh year, Lor!"
Lorcan rolled his eyes, looking disgruntled at being interrupted. "We've still got our last NEWT tomorrow, Lil." He picked up the fallen book and waved it at her. "Arithmancy, remember?"
Lysander, who was lying stretched out on the grass a few feet away, groaned. "I was trying to forget, thanks…"
"We never should have taken Arithmancy," Lily agreed. "It's such a stupid subject, like divination with math." She looked over at Lysander. "Why did we, again?"
"You wanted to know when the Chudley Cannons were going to win the World Cup," Lorcan answered, not looking up. "And Ly and I were stupid enough to go along with you…"
"We must have been real idiots in third year," Lysander agreed, watching Lily's feet as she continued to twirl rather aimlessly. "Since I have learned diddly-squat in Arithmancy, and even I can tell you that the answer is 'when hell freezes over.'"
Lily stopped spinning abruptly, fixing Lysander with a death stare, flipping her head hair – it was a terribly annoying habit she'd picked up – which flashed in the sun. "You did not just say that."
He barely suppressed a grin. "Lily, a bloody Crumple-Horned Snorkack would be a better Seeker than what's his face, whoever the idiot is they've got playing for them -"
"Crumpled-Horned Snorkacks can't fly," she snapped impatiently. "And anyway, have you read the Scouting Report for them this year? We've got a lot of really strong up-and-coming talent. It says that there's no doubt we'll finish ahead of Pride of Portree."
"First of all," Lysander said, "that's never going to happen. Secondly, even if it did, that would still put them in second to last –"
"At least I'm a dedicated fan," she said, her face turning red, though he could tell she was trying not to smile herself. "Unlike some people, who just jump on the bloody bandwagon –"
"You've been listening to Uncle Ron too much –"
"Wasps are insects," she hissed through gritted teeth. "Buzzing, yellow –"
"Oh, yeah," he said, "because orange is such a cool color –"
"Can you two either shut up, or go away?" Lorcan snapped. "I mean, not that it isn't fun and all to hear the same bloody argument for the one hundredth time, but I'm trying to study!"
Lily laughed. "Lorcan, I'm sure you've heard this argument way more than a hundred times…"
Lorcan glanced up at her, his face suddenly looking strangely pained. "I know, Lily," he said softly, "I know." He sighed, once. "Won't you please go study, Lily? This is Arithmancy – not the Transfiguration practical, where you can apparently not even crack a book and still get a near-perfect score."
She looked at him, seeming to acknowledge the truth in this. "Fine. I'll go get my book." She looked over at Lysander. "Want me to get yours too?"
He just stared at her, and together, they said the words, "When hell freezes over." Laughing, she turned away. He watched her going, so caught up watching her walk away, her bright, messy hair swinging behind her that it took him a moment to realize that Lorcan was watching him.
"You all right?" he asked his brother, slightly perturbed by the look in his eyes, the strange expression returned to his face again.
Lorcan gave an odd, almost ironic smile. "When are you going to tell her, Ly?"
Lysander felt his stomach twist. "Wh-what?"
"You know." There was an odd intensity in the way his brother said the words, as though they had been stored up inside him for a long time, and had only just now worked themselves free.
"I dunno what you're talking about…" Lysander muttered, not sure whether he was more perturbed by his brother's words or his own reaction to them, the hard, fast beat of his heart, going thump-thump-thump in his chest. "I've... got to go... might as well get my book, I suppose..."
With no intention of studying, he jogged away, feeling the heat of his brother's gaze searing into his back all the way up to the castle.
He tossed and turned that night, but not because of the Arithmancy test, which he'd known he would fail since the first day of sixth year. How they'd all passed the O.W.L. was beyond him. It was Lily's face, forever present in his mind, that kept him up, along with her dark red hair and the freckles dotted down her face and arms, the way she laughed… she'd been his best friend for a long time. And of course, there had been whispers, rumours about them since fifth – perhaps even fourth – year, but he'd never – he'd always been too scared – no. There had been nothing to them.
She'd even dated someone else, her fellow Beater on the Quidditch team, who was right now – Lysander didn't let himself look – snoring in the bed two down from his. She and Edwin Dawley had gone out for nearly four months, and he wasn't going to pretend that it hadn't bothered him to seeing them holding hands, walking down the corridors together… He wasn't going to act as if it hadn't upset him, too, when he'd walked in on them snogging that one time. But that was simply because they were such good friends, because he saw her as such a sister… Of course it was, whatever Lorcan might say. He turned over on his back, staring up at the ceiling, and tried to forget his brother's words, to ignore the fact that his twin had always known Lysander better than he knew himself.
He was a Gryffindor, fearless, brave – reckless, too, he supposed, which was obvious from his track-record at Hogwarts. They'd never pulled the kind of pranks that Roxanne and James has became famous – or perhaps infamous for. Lysander, Lily, and Lorcan's stunts were creative – not born of the Wheezes crap that James was at a loss without. He smiled into his pillow at the thought, and then, suddenly, remembered the thought that had led to it, the question that plagued his mind.
He couldn't tell her – he had nothing to tell her – for otherwise, what had held them together for so long would be threatened, perhaps obliterated. They had been best friends since they all joined hands in the boat under that purple sky on the first day of Hogwarts, and of course they'd argued sometimes, of course they had annoyed each other, but still... He wouldn't dare to change that now.
The sun was bright on their last day of Hogwarts, the day before they would ride home of the scarlet steam engine for the last time. Two days after that, of course, they would have to return for their graduation ceremony, but the day still felt only nostalgic, the last full day they would ever spend as students, out on the grounds.
All three of them were sitting lazily underneath a large, leafy tree, watching the clouds drift by, lost in thought, and only stirring to make the occasional comment about their now old-seeming school days, and how fast the time had gone. Lysander was midway through complaining that it was much too hot when another voice interrupted.
"You three sound like a bunch of old hags," Ollie Wood remarked good-naturedly. "You'll be saying you've got an ache in your knee next, which means that it's about to start raining –"
"Oh, leave us alone, Ol," Lily said, sitting up and stretching. "I haven't forgotten what a fuss you made when we had to play that match against Hufflepuff in the rain –"
"I couldn't see the Quaffle," he protested, grinning.
"So I heard," Lily said, but they all knew she was kidding. "Anyway, what's up?"
"I just wanted to see if you all would want to come and play some Quidditch… Dawley and I were trying to get a game together."
Lysander, who had been on the verge of sitting up, flopped back down again at the mention of Lily's ex. "It's too hot."
"I'll play," Lorcan said, prodding his twin. "Come on, Ly, Ollie's right… you sound like Lily's great-great-aunt Muriel."
"I'll go get the brooms," Lily said, making a face at the mention of Muriel, and dashed off, with Lorcan following behind her.
"I knew Lily would play," Ollie said, watching them go.
"Yeah, well," Lysander said. "She really loves it. I really hope she can make it into the professionals –"
"She will," he said, his voice slightly tinged with jealousy. "That's part of the reason I always knew I was never going to play professional… I like playing Keeper, and I'm good at it too, but I'm not so passionate like Lily and my dad are –"
"Passionate?" Lysander cracked. "Or obsessed?"
"If you'd grown up with my dad," Ollie said seriously, "you'd know there isn't a difference."
Lysander laughed.
"Speaking of my dad," Ollie went on, "I was going to tell you – he sent me the funniest letter yesterday. I'll have to show you."
"Just tell me," Lysander said, curious.
"Okay, well, he's pretty much finally given up on me going professional as a Keeper – as much as he ever is, anyway. But I suppose it just occurred to him that if none of his four sons are ever going to play forEngland, the next best thing would be to have a daughter-in-law who does. He's always loved Lily, you know, really convinced she's going to go far." Ollie paused, shooting him a look full of mirth, but Lysander wasn't sure what the joke was. "But don't worry," Ollie went on, "I set him straight. I told him you and Lily have been meant-to-be practically since the two of you were in diapers –"
Lysander put his face in his hands, moaning – why the hell had everyone suddenly had decided that he and Lily were a – a thing. "She's my best friend, Ollie…"
"Yeah, okay, mate." He snickered, shooting Lysander a look which clearly said he didn't believe him. "Whatever you say…"
"We are," he insisted. "Swear to Merlin. Besides, I wouldn't want to ruin your dad's dreams of having a Quidditch star in the family."
Ollie dismissed this with a wave of his hand. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about my dad. He's still got Alice," he said, referring to his younger Slytherin sister, who, in Lysander's opinion, was scarier than all four of her older brothers put together.
"Ollie, I promise you –"
"You can say that all you like, Lysander, but as far as I'm concerned, that's about as likely as – as whatever those Crumpled things that Lorcan's always drawing are."
"Crumpled-Horned Snorkacks," Lysander said automatically. "But never mind that – Ollie, she was dating Dawley until a couple months ago!"
Ollie shook his head. "Lysander, you're daft. She only dated him because she didn't give a damn about him."
"That makes sense, then," Lysander said sarcastically, though privately, his heart gave a little lurch as he wondered if it was true. "And anyway, how the hell would you know – did the two of you have some sort of girl-to-girl moment or something?"
Ollie rolled his eyes. "No. But you know who might have is Mary Stebbins – they share a dormitory, after all. I was talking to her the other day, about how she wants to have a class vote or something equally stupid – you know how Mary is."
Lysander nodded. Mary was always having the sort of cutesy, all-for-one ideas that no one else ever wanted anything to do with.
"Anyway, she said that she reckoned you and Lily were a lock for, 'Most Likely to End Up Married' –"
"What?"
Ollie snickered again. "You and Lily are the only ones that are still in denial about it." Lily and Lorcan emerged from the castle, broomsticks in tow. "Come on, I don't want to make them wait."
"But –" Sighing, and worried that Lily would overhear, he followed after Ollie, letting the matter drop.
"Graduation day," his mum said excitedly two days later, as she fixed the collar of his dress robes.
"I can't believe we have to wear these things," Lorcan complained, shifting uncomfortably.
"I know," Lysander agreed angrily. He'd been looking forward to being done with school for weeks, but now that it was here, he was in a terrible temper – worse, he wasn't even really sure why. "Don't they know it's summertime?"
"I expect so," his mother said, almost dreamily, staring up at the blue sky, tinged with yellow and orange, as the sun began its descent. "Oh, I'm so proud of you boys," she suddenly exclaimed, sweeping them up into a hug.
"We both are," his father said, smiling.
Lysander pushed away. "Mum!"
He stomped away, his face red from heat and embarrassment as he quickly glanced around to see who was watching. Dawley, standing a few feet away with his parents, was looking over, sniggering slightly. Lysander tried to pretend as though he didn't care.
Scanning the crowd for Lily – he hadn't seen her yet today - he spotted James Potter standing over behind the rows of chairs that their families would later be sitting in for the graduation ceremony. Lysander headed over to him.
"Do you know where Lily is?" he demanded the second he reached her older brother, not bothering to say hello to James or the three people he was standing with – Rose, Hugo, and a girl he didn't know. He assumed it must be James's latest girlfriend. He changed them more often than anyone could keep up with, and she had the same half-starved, pouty look as the rest of them.
"I've got no idea where she is, Lysander," James said, clearly happy to be as unhelpful as possible. "You are Lysander, aren't you?"
Lysander snorted and turned away – he was in no mood to talk to James, who he had often been at loggerheads with while at Hogwarts.
"I suppose it's no mystery what you want with her," James called after him, clearly taking Lysander's silence as a yes.
Lysander spun on his heels, dreading where this was heading, but too angry to walk away from a fight. "I suppose not," he snapped, "seeing as we're friends."
"Oh, come off it, Scamander," James said. "She's my sister. I know you like her."
"And if James sees it," Rose put in, "it's really obvious."
He ignored her. "Of course, I like her – she's my best friend - but I don't, you know… like like her."
James smirked. "Like like? How old are you – five?"
Rolling his eyes and pretending he wasn't embarrassed about being called out for being immature by James Sirius Potter, he said, "She's my best friend, Potter, but if you're thinking –"
"Don't bother, Lysander," Rose told him. "We all know the truth anyway!"
"Shut up!" he said, turning on her, "Why in the name of Merlin does everyone think they know my own life better than I do?"
"You don't need to be so angry," she said, laughing, which incensed him all the more. "Look, Lysander, calm down, I'm not trying to annoy you, but come on, if you two were anyone else you'd be married by now."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You're the most terrified fearless people I've ever met," she said.
He snorted. "That doesn't even follow."
"What she means," said Hugo, speaking for the first time, "is that you're a typical Gryffindor – all bravado and no real courage at all –"
"What I mean," Rose went on, talking over her younger brother, "is that the two of you aren't scared of anything except telling each other the truth about how you feel –"
"That's sounds like a bloody Celestina Warbeck song," he said, at the same time wondering, privately, if there was any point in denying it anymore, even to himself. "Just stay out of it, will you?" Shooting one last glare at all of them – including James's girlfriend, who was looking very bored and hadn't said a word the whole time – he turned away. He found himself hoping there was still time to find Lily before the ceremony, and then wondering why exactly he wanted to find her. Mentally, he shook himself. All that nonsense must be beginning to get to him.
"I bet they get together in the first week of summer," James called to his retreating back, much louder than necessary.
"I bet it's the second week," Rose countered.
"Are you really betting on my l – my nonexistent love life," he snapped back, catching himself.
"Yep," James said. "Five galleons?"
"Ten," Rose said confidently. "And if they haven't gotten together after two weeks, I say we should just extend it…"
He stomped away – damn Lily's stupid cousins! – they could bet all they liked. It wasn't as if either of them was ever going to win.
He spent the next ten minutes look for Lily, but was unable to find her in the now enormous crowd standing around the grounds of Hogwarts, which included several reporters from the Daily Prophet, eager, he supposed, to dig up some drama on Harry Potter's youngest graduating from Hogwarts. Lysander hoped they had as much luck finding her as he had.
"Lysander." He felt his mother grab his arm. "I've been looking for you everywhere. I don't know why you're so angry today, honey –"
"I'm fine," he told her dully.
She frowned at him. "Are you sure? Perhaps it's the Nargles." Her blue eyes sparkled gently, and he gave in, laughing along with her.
"No…" he said at last. "It's not the Nargles." Sighing, he shot a look up at the sky; it was nearing sunset now. "It's just… I guess I'm just kind of sad to be leaving Hogwarts. It just seems to final, an ending, and I… I don't know what's going to happen now, and I don't even know if I want things to change, or if I want everything to, you know…" His last words were a whisper, "… stay the same."
"Oh, Lysander," she enveloped him in another hug; this time he let her. She was quiet for a moment, caught up in the horizon. "There's aren't any endings, darling," she said at last, "or for that matter, beginnings, or if there are they're so tangled up in each other that no one can tell the difference."
He didn't have a clue what that was supposed to mean, but then, his mum's advice so often made no sense, and he was tired of arguing, so he simply laid a head on her shoulder.
"But," she said, after another moment, just as he heard the teachers calling all the graduates to the stage, "I do think you should tell her."
He supposed there was no point in arguing about it anymore. He laughed instead, giving his mother one last hug before he joined his classmates in their last hour as Hogwarts students.
The ceremony was beautiful, full of laughs and tears and memories, but he found it hard to focus on it. His mind was much too full of other things - all the conversations he'd had, these past few days, and wondered why what was so clear to Lorcan, Ollie, James, Rose, Hugo - even his mum was so impossible for him to comprehend, to accept.
He kept stealing glances at her, all through the service, seated two chairs down from him because they were seated in alphabetical order. She'd managed to whisper that she'd been in Hagrid's hut before the graduation, so the press couldn't find her, but other than that, they had not talked at all during the whole program. Unlike him, she seemed completely engaged by it, more excited than he had seen her in a long time. She kept playing with her hair, the terrible habit she had he found so annoying and scoffed at her for it all the time – and yet loved too, in the odd, desperate way that he could never admit to her.
There were moments, during that ceremony, when he admitted it, to himself, when he swore that he would tell her, even if it did prove them all right. But these were always followed by terrifyingly dizzy moments, as though he had suddenly found himself standing on an impossibly high cliff, and he couldn't, he just couldn't.
He hardly paid attention as they were guided down to the lake, underneath the castle to the underground harbor where he had first entered Hogwarts so many years before, and into the tiny, wooden boats that had carried them. He clambered into one, along with Lorcan and Lily, noticing that most people seemed to be finding the people they had sailed across the lake with, as first years, regardless of whether they were still friends now. It seemed to be an unspoken rule; they would enter as they left, in the dark abyss where they had passed from a motley crew of scared children to students of Hogwarts, and now became adults, grown-ups in the eyes of the wizarding world.
Theirs was the first boat out of the tunnel, except for Hagrid's, who was leading them again. The first thing Lysander saw, before his eyes even really adjusted, was that purple sky, exactly the same shade as it had been seven years before, and the next was her face, so close to his. His mother's words echo in his head - they made an odd sort of sense now. Before he could think anything else (before he could worry about everyone and their uncle watching from either the boats around him or the shore not so far away), he kissed her.
He kissed her, Lily Potter, his best friend, the girl who he couldn't help but fall in love with, before he could remember that he was on top of a precipice he could very easily fall right off of.
But he didn't fall off. She smiled at him, more brightly than he'd ever seen her smile, not saying anything, and on top of it all, he realised that for once, Lily Potter was rendered speechless.
It was perfect in that moment, before the catcalls and whistles started, before the 'I told you so's, before the cameras flashes. It was before he could rub it in to James and Rose that neither had one the bet only to be told that Hugo had, having made his guess after Lysander left, before his beautiful purple sky - their purple sky - faded away.
In that moment, they were alone, stripped of onlookers or endings or beginnings or worldly interpretation, a moment when they could just look at each other, and just know and just love and just be.
