The water lapped lightly against the shore. Waves coming in, waves coming out. In and out, in and out, just another mirror to the cycle of life that was constantly happening around her. The deep blue water looked almost black against the cloudy sky, the onyx waves occasionally cresting with a bit of white from the strong winds. Evelyn didn't seem to notice when it sprayed her, didn't seem to care when the gusts blew her hair so wildly that it completely covered her eyes. It wasn't like she could see with them now anyway. They were too filled with tears.

December first. The day had snuck up on her, looming like an ominous shadow against a sea of mundane days that all looked the same. She would wake alone in a cold, dark bedroom before numbly going to her classes. Mattheo had resumed his lunches with her—something about a fight with one of his friends over which one of them got to be with the girl who turned out to be a lesbian but their male pride still held up the grudge. Her afternoons were spent in the library again before she saw Tom in the evenings, where he kissed her like he would never kiss her again. His hand would wrap possessively around her neck as he bruised her lips with his own. He spent those few hours mostly being silent, having spent the majority of his days hunting for the Death Eaters that still managed to escape his grasp. It was clear that Tom didn't want to talk about it so she didn't ask. Later, when the candles burned low and she could hardly keep her eyes open, Tom would slink back off to wherever he slept without her, leaving her in that cold, dark room that lingered with his scent.

But today was different. Today wasn't like the others.

She woke up and moved all of her stuff back to her bedroom. She told herself that it was because it was more practical to be in the girl's dormitories, that a teacher was bound to find out about their current situation soon, and that Tom shouldn't have to sleep outside of his own room, even if he was trying to be respectful. But in reality, it was because waking up alone in that bedroom was the worst part of her day. Every morning, she hoped that he would be there when she awoke. Every morning she was disappointed.

So she moved what little she had brought there back to her bedroom. It was warmer there, a little cozier with a larger window. Her shelves had gotten dusty but she didn't care; it wasn't like she put anything on them anyway. Evelyn just unpacked her robes and lit a few candles at the edge of the room before dressing in a black jumper, jeans, and boots with thick socks before venturing out to a spot by the Black Lake where she wouldn't be spotted from the castle.

It was freezing outside, the incoming storm bringing bitter winds from the North Sea. But today, on this odd, awful day, she didn't care. The cold settled around her like a familiar blanket, biting at her fingers curled in her fist. Evelyn couldn't help the way her body shook from the high winds but she welcomed the frigidity. It was better to feel something than feeling nothing at all.

Plus, after many nights wrapped in Tom's icy arms, she was used to it. His hands felt like marble against the softness of her skin. He had never taken things further than a kiss even though she knew he wanted to. Tom held back for her sake in many ways. She didn't know how to tell him that she wanted his everything, not just what he thought she was ready for. Things would happen, though, in due time. After all, like he always said, they had eternity.

Evelyn sighed as she reached the familiar spot by the black lake. It was shielded by a grove of trees that felt more magical than the rest of the shore. Sometimes, she swore she heard the faint sound of tinkling pixies. Not the awful cornish pixies that one of her professors brought in once but another kind... something light and happy and everything she wasn't.

The tears almost froze to her skin as they fell down her cheeks. They came in waves. Sometimes full sobs wracked her body so hard she felt like her ribs might burst from the pain. Sometimes just silent streams of salty water moved so slowly that she hardly even registered they were there.

After seventeen years, after seventeen awful years, she thought the pain would go away. She thought she would be used to it now, this feeling of being completely alone in the universe, surrounded by stars that seemed to taunt her. Look at how we glow, they said. Look at how we bring light when all you bring is darkness. All you bring is death. You are a black hole and we are beautiful.

Tom was the only one that made her feel like her darkness could be beautiful. And still, on some days, days like December first, even he could do nothing to help her. Not that he even knew she was there. He probably thought she was in her classes, attending lunch with her cousin, reading in the library. Tom wouldn't notice her absence until later, until he was alone in his bedroom, waiting for a girl who couldn't bring herself to leave the lake.

She had always felt unexplainably drawn to water on December first. It started when she was eleven. She had spent most of her day sitting numbly in her classes, thinking of a father who never knew she had even entered the world. But after leaving the Herbology greenhouse, Evelyn found her feet leading her to the shores of the Black Lake. There, she found a small enclosed place where she felt completely hidden from the rest of the world.

It was there that she first allowed herself to cry over her father's death. The wonderful father whom she had never met and yet felt like she had known somewhere in the deepest recesses of her heart.

It soon became a tradition, Evelyn numbly walking down to the shores, propping herself against a tree from the moment she awoke until the moment her body was finally too frozen to withstand the December air any longer. With each passing year, that time got longer. Now, she would probably stay until the wee hours of the next morning, still staring at that lake as if it held the answers to every one of her questions.

How did he die? Why would no one tell her? Why did she feel so drawn to the water? Did he end his own life or did he die in a tragic accident? Did he know her mother was pregnant with her? Did he dream of one day having a daughter in the way she dreamt of meeting him in the next life? Would he be proud of her? Would he run to her and scoop her in his arms and never let her go?

Would he love her?

December first. It was the day listed on his tombstone. Well, one of the days. The last day. Just one month later, his child would be born, coming into a world that would show her no love. Perhaps if he was there, he would have showed it instead.

But he wasn't there. He was dead. Gone. Just like everyone else.

And she was alone.

Footsteps crunched on the dying grass behind her before a voice scoffed, "Man, you are a hard woman to find when you don't want to be found."

She recognized that voice. Mattheo. Her cousin.

Evelyn didn't look away from the distant waves on the water. She felt his presence sit next to her, the boy's lips no doubt forming into a frown as he realized she had spent the last nine and a half hours staring at a lake for no apparent reason.

Her stomach rumbled. Her hands shook. She ignored both of the sensations.

"What are you looking at?" Mattheo asked in a light voice. Evelyn didn't respond. She didn't feel like speaking, not even to him. She could practically feel his frown. "Well... you missed a good lunch today. Roast beef. I know you like it."

She didn't really like roast beef. It was fine but most of her joy came from watching the boy shovel at least a kilo and a half of meat into his face before immediately proceeding to claim that his stomach hurt.

Still, Evelyn remained silent.

Mattheo huffed. "Well, if you're going to ignore me and make me sit in the freezing cold, can I at least know why?"

Silence draped for several long minutes. Then, she whispered, "My father died today. Seventeen years ago."

He made a humming sound with his mouth. "Was he a good father? Because mine's dead too but he was a piece of shit so I don't sit at a lake and watch him."

If it were any other day, she would have laughed at his bluntness. But not today.

"I don't know." Her voice was softer and quieter than normal, like it physically pained her to speak. Honestly, it kind of did. "He died a month before I was born. I don't have any family."

"Oh," Mattheo mumbled. "Well, I bet he would have been a good dad. I mean, you have his genes and look at you. You're great." She looked over at him with confusion. His face was completely serious. It lacked the light sense of humor she was used to. "I think he would have really liked you."

The tears began to stream faster down her face. One after another after another, just like the waves out in the middle of the water.

"I think he would have too," she said with a broken voice. She wrapped her jumper sleeve around her fist and bit down on it to keep a sob from breaking out. But her fingers shook and one escaped anyway, taking over her body like one of the gusts of wind. Whoosh, it said as it shook her body with enough force to make her keel over.

Mattheo placed his small hand on her back and began to rub it lightly. She could feel it through the thick wool. I'm here, it said. He might not be but I am.

"I don't know why it upsets me so much." Evelyn sniffled as the tears began to cease their rapid-fire. "I've never met either of my parents and I still feel the hole they left every day of my life."

Her cousin sighed before fixing her unruly hair on her back. "My parents were the biggest assholes in the history of assholes. I used to wish that I never had any because at least having none would have been better than having them. But even though my mom is in prison rotting her mind away for torturing a few people and even though my dad was the reincarnation of the devil that gave people nightmares for twenty years until he died, I can't help but wish I still had them. It's not wrong to miss them. No one would blame you, least of all me."

"Plus," he said wryly, "You could always have Tom reincarnate him. He'd be a creepy zombie-dad but how fucking cool would that be."

And despite how much her soul ached, a laugh escaped Evelyn's mouth. It didn't feel forced at all. It felt... good. Like her heart felt a little lighter when it escaped.

"Good," Mattheo said with a laugh of his own. "I was beginning to think that Tom turned you into a heartless monster like him."

Even in her cold fog, Evelyn couldn't help the way her heart stuttered just at hearing his name. Tom, her soul sighed, like it was coming home to a piece that had been missing.

And she could have sworn she heard in response, a cold voice croon, Little Dove.

This is a shorter chapter I'll admit but I have a part two to this scene that is a VERY different vibe from this one if you pick up what I'm putting down ;) so I decided to split them.

Thanks for all the support I've received in the past couple of days! I've really really appreciated it