Nightwalker

"Do you ever sleep?"

"Oh!" Rowena jumped and her hand went straight to her chest. "Godric, do not do that, please," she admonished the wizard approaching her.

"My apologies, Rowena," he said sincerely. He then smiled and came to sit opposite her by the fire in the staffroom. "What brings you here at five o'clock in the morning?"

"I could ask you the same," Rowena replied evasively. She stared into the fire, looking without seeing at the flames that licked the sides of the chimney; her mind focusing on other things.

"Rowena?"

Rowena jumped again. "Yes," she said, turning to face Godric again. "My apologies, Godric. Did you say something?"

"I asked if you are all right, Rowena. You seem preoccupied lately."

Rowena looked away again. "Mm."

"Helga told me that you and Helena—"

"Helena and I are on perfectly good terms, Godric," Rowena interrupted shortly. "Whatever Helga has said, it is not true."

"Helga would not lie."

Rowena deflated slightly. "I know. But she has misunderstood. Helena and I have had our arguments in the past, but it is nothing serious. She is young, that is all."

There was a brief silence punctuated only by the crackling of the flames in the fireplace.

"So, what is keeping you up, Rowena?" Godric asked.

Rowena thought of Helena first, because that was indeed what was troubling her most. Then, she thought of her own visions that morning. Already she was finding that the effort of trying to remember the details was like grasping at smoke. The meaning of what she had Seen seemed to have escaped her yet again.

After a few seconds, she merely sighed. "Insomnia is no great companion, Godric, as I am sure you can agree?"

He nodded and she looked away into the flames again. Godric, meanwhile, was still watching her carefully.


Anxieties

"I do not understand her, Helga," Rowena said, watching, from afar, her daughter sitting on the banks of the black lake with Genevieve beside her.

It was rare for Rowena to talk so openly about a topic that made her feel vulnerable and inadequate. Helga knew that which was why she was surprised that Rowena had even mentioned it this sunny afternoon while they worked on some lesson planning together by one of the staffroom windows.

"What do you mean?" Helga prompted.

Rowena's eyebrows knit together. "She is always so angry with me," she began, her quill now sitting loosely in her hand — lesson planning forgotten. "I do not understand what changed. We used to get on so well when she was a child..."

"She is still a child, Rowena," Helga reminded her. "A prime time for insecurities to surface."

"Helena does not have anything she needs to be insecure about," Rowena replied firmly.

Helga sighed. "Perhaps not," she admitted. "But perhaps she has not realised that just yet."

There was a pause before Rowena then straightened and tore her eyes away from her daughter to look at Helga sitting opposite her. "Perhaps not. Though I do hope she realises it soon."


Gone

Rowena looked out of the window, her eyes staring unseeingly at the soft green grass sawing gently in the autumn breeze. Her hands cupped a small locket containing the image of herself - 20 or so years ago now - with a young child sitting on her lap. The child was smiling brilliantly as she grasped her mother's index fingers with her small hands.

It was one of the few images Rowena had of herself and her daughter - a painting done by a friend of hers when Helena had been only a few months old. The locket usually sat in a small box in Rowena's room, for safekeeping. It hardly ever came out. Yet, after Helena's sudden disappearance, Rowena had kept it by her side.

There was a knock at the door but Rowena did not answer. She knew that it had to be Helga; sweet darling Helga who always had the best of intentions. And indeed, when the door creaked open as Rowena knew it would, Helga quietly entered the rooms. But still, she did not turn.

"Rowena, dear, are you quite well?" Her eyebrows creased into a worried frown as she assessed her friend standing motionlessly by the window. "You have not been down all day. We grew worried."

Rowena still remained silent, fearing that if she so much as uttered one word, or turned to face Helga, she would lose all pretence of composure.

Helga inched forwards so that she was standing beside Rowena's desk. On top rest a small wooden box that normally contained Rowena's diadem. Today, it was empty.

"Genevieve wanted to know if Helena was still coming for dinner," she said tentatively. "She looked in the Ravenclaw Common Room but could not find her. Do you know where she is?"

Rowena closed her eyes and swallowed. She shook her head from side to side.

Helga frowned. "I do not understand."

Rowena finally turned to look at her friend. "She is gone, Helga. Helena has left."