Disclaimer: I don't own shit.
The only sound we heard was the wood swelling. It had been a humid day, and now the temperature had dropped a fair bit, so I guess it was hard on the ancient wood of the shrieking shack. The window gave us a fair view of Hogwarts, but not enough to determine what was really going on. I suppose it helped us feel more in control by watching it, but in reality, we'd have more luck staring in a mirror. Harry felt the same way, but continued staring out there like a zombie.
Hermione was asleep. Lying over the covers of the bed I sat on when Sirius broke my leg. She didn't look as peaceful as a normal sleeping person. I guess it was either my imagination, or her self conscious reminding her that people were dying as she slept. I suppose any of our companions that saw us hiding out here would think we were cowards. But it wasn't our fault. McGonagall was making us.
She told us that it would be more beneficial for us to "disappear" while Hogwarts was under attack. I don't agree with her judgment, people need us. But she said it was no use killing off the boy who lived and his friends. What if the rest of them die tonight? Who's going to fight behind us now?
And what about Ginny? I know that's who he's thinking about right now. He's staring out the window silently cursing himself for not taking her with us. We wanted to, but we couldn't find her, and before we knew it, we were crawling under the womping willow and into the secret passage leading us here. To this dump. But what McGonagall didn't realize was that the death eaters were passing right by this shack on their way out. Who's to say they wont see us and break down the walls?
Especially since Harry and I are standing right in front of a large window facing the school.
Hermione stirred behind us. She opened her eyes, but didn't move the rest of her. Grief is a very heavy emotion, and I guess it holds people down like that. I wish I was an occlumens, just to know what she's thinking. But I guess she couldn't be thinking anything good. This whole scene reminded me of the night that he who shall not be named came back. The same heavy atmosphere held us all down, and none of us could bear to speak.
We've been sitting in this shack for a few hours, but the atmosphere shows no sign of ending. The battle may go into morning, and I don't even want to begin wondering who's winning. I don't even dare think about who may have already died.