The Houses Competition, Round 5 – Horror on the Coast

House: Ravenclaw

Class: CoMC

Drabble - 500-1000 words, choose one prompt.

Prompts:

(First line) The rain was coming down, and the sky seemed to drown in tears.

Word Count: 1000

Warnings/Trigger warnings: mentions of death/dead people; AU 7th year!

Beta: Queenie, BC5

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A MOONLESS NIGHT

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The rain was coming down, and the sky seemed to drown in tears. The clouds were heavy, hiding the stars from view like heavy eyelids hiding tearstained eyes. Where the moon normally was, there was only emptiness, her pale face missing from the night sky as if she couldn't bear to witness the suffering that the sky was weeping for. Never had the world looked darker than at this very moment.

Deep furrows lanced the darkened ground like rivers of tears filled with water from the skies. Like a flood, it washed the earth clean, leaving behind the heavy smell of rain and nothing else.

Nothing else, but lumpy shapes of black that littered the earth like stones after an avalanche.

And in the middle of those lumps, crowned by weeping stars that, even hidden behind the clouds, were lighting up her hair, was she – the moon, who had come to earth to grieve in ways the stars in the sky couldn't.

Her pale face was glowing in the darkness, marked by blood and dirt, while she was passing by the lumps on the ground. Sometimes, she would stop and kneel. Her gentle hands would reach for open eyes and black cloth, closing the former and using the later to hide exposed faces.

She was humming softly, an ode of joy in a suffering world — strongly contrasting the blood still running down her cheeks like macabre tears.

Finally, she stopped next to one of the lumps on the ground, hesitating and crooking her head thoughtfully. Then the moon slowly crouched down next to said lump, raising one of her hands to pull back dark cloth to reveal locks in the colour of the stars and eyes red and bloodshot.

For a moment, her silver eyes met the bloodshot ones, then, the being suffering on the ground ripped the cloth of their hood free and pulled it back over their face before curling up further on the ground.

The moon changed her seating – now kneeling instead of crouching – and then put a hand on the shoulder of the huddled figure in front of her.

"It's over." Her voice was soft and sweet. Her hand tightened its grip. "It's all over now."

Bloodshot eyes looked up into her ethereal ones.

"It will never be over." The voice of the other being was raspy and sounded as if they had been screaming for days. "This is my fault."

For a moment, the moon seemed to contemplate that. Then, she inclined her head as if agreeing with that assessment. "Just like it was our fault."

The head of the other being snapped up and they flinched as if they had been slapped.

"It wasn't your fault!" The dark hood fell from their face when they exclaimed that, revealing the tired eyes of a boy who had seen way too much for their short life. "If I hadn't —!"

"We were all born into war," the moon interrupted him before he could object. "You — me — them!" She pointed at the lifeless lumps on the ground. "— were born into war. It might have been a cold war for most of our childhood, but that doesn't change the fact that it was war."

"But —!"

"We didn't start it, we just finished it," she told him and reached out to force his face up to meet her gaze, exposing his tears to the skies. Heavenly tears mixed with those on his cheeks.

"We fought," she said forcefully, her voice oddly ethereal in the darkness of the night. "And no matter what our beliefs were, we fought for all of this to end."

For a moment, grey eyes met her silver ones. Then the boy looked away, blond hair falling into his face.

"But I fought for the wrong side and they —" He gestured around him. "— suffered for it."

For a moment, the moon looked at the boy thoughtfully. Then, she smiled at him so sad that the sky's weeping felt like gentle sobbing. "But they don't suffer, Malfoy," she said, and her hand stroked his cheek. "They're at peace."

"They're dead!" For a moment, anger filled his voice — but since the anger had been born from grief, she just shook her head about it.

"They're at peace," she repeated, her silver eyes looking oddly cool when they met his. "It's not them who suffer. It's not them who will suffer." Then she leaned closer to him, her grip tightening on his chin. "It's you."

"What?" Confused grey eyes searched ethereal silver ones.

"The one who will suffer — the one who suffers, is you, Draco," she repeated and then stood up. "The dead are at peace. For them, the war is over. It's you who will have to live with the war in your soul for the rest of your life. It's you, who will suffer — you and everyone else who's like you."

"You, then." Draco searched the moon's face, but she just smiled. Her eyes flitted towards the weeping night sky.

"I'm already crying," she agreed, her cheeks dry of tears. "And like you, I will suffer from this." Then she looked at the dead surrounding them. "But unlike you, I know that at least they won't."

With that she stood up and turned away. "Stop wasting your tears on the dead, Draco," she advised him while she stepped away. "Spend them on the living. It's they who have been broken by war."

Over her head, the clouds broke open to reveal the stars. Starlight crowned her, adorning the redness of blood, colouring white clothes and a pale throat.

His eyes widened in alarm. "Lovegood?"

The moon's sad, silver eyes looked ethereal in the starlight. "I told you, Draco, it's over now. You've been given a second chance to choose the right thing. Don't waste it."

Her pale skin was the colour of moonlight.

"Wait! Luna!"

But she didn't listen. Like the moonlight, her body dissolved into sparkles. And up in the sky, the stars were drowning in tears.

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I hope you liked it.

Over and out.

Ebenbild