Dark Side of the Moon

[Theodore Gallivan]

• The problem - well, one of the many problems - with finding out that you had a werewolf for a father - was that it was impossible not to keep track of the lunar phases, just so you knew. The most recent had been only this weekend, he had realised much earlier, a fact only reinforced by a glance out of the window as he passed. The moon, in a patch of night sky not dulled by cloud, was near full still, and Theodore could not help but grit his teeth. What had his father gotten up to as a beast this month, he always wondered, but this time when he'd picked up the Prophet over breakfast, there had been a potential werewolf victim in the cemetery. He'd nearly written a furious letter to his father then and there to demand to know where he'd been, and he already hardly talked to his father, but if it had been him to maul an innocent person, Theodore doubted he would ever find a reason to speak to him again. Nevertheless, instead he'd had to stew through all the day's lessons.
  
  And now he was on Prefect duty. Suffice it to say, he was more distracted than usual. Usually he quite enjoyed patrolling the corridors at curfew, even when they were uneventful and confrontationless, but tonight his thoughts were not particularly enjoyable, and he had hardly been paying attention to where he was walking.
  
  Attempting to snap out of his downward-spiralling thoughts, he glanced the other way to his classmate, housemate and fellow prefect, Miss Skye, who was also on patrol duty this evening. Theodore quite liked her, and, at any rate, she was a comfortable enough option for conversation, he thought. "That Transfiguration essay was a nightmare, wasn't it?" He piped up, knowingly going for something dull, because at least it was not broaching the subject of the Christmas holidays. "Have you finished it yet?"
  
  

  

[Beatrice Skye]

Trixie could see that there was something not quite right about Mr. Gallivan's behaviour. Stress for their OWLs, perhaps? Those were still a few good months away, but time would surely start passing quicker the closer the time came for them to be examined on everything they had been taught so far.

She knew better than to disturb people who might not be in need or want of a conversation, so she just went on with the patrolling silently, wand clutched in her hands in case she needed to use it. Hopefully, none of the trouble-makers would feel the need to break something.

"Hm?" Trixie made, before she nodded. "Oh yes, I did finish that essay. I suppose it was a bit of a pain, but Evanesco's definitely more interesting than what we normally learn, don't you think?"

Certainly, more useful than turning slippers into rabbits.

  

[Theodore Gallivan]

• In starting a conversation, he had been hoping that he would be distracted, if briefly, from the anxiety and horror crowding his head, but even as she answered, Theodore was fighting to follow through and pay attention. He almost wished he had someone to talk about it with - but what could he even say to his father anymore? He'd even contemplated telling Cecily, he felt a little guilty keeping the knowledge he'd gained from her, as if keeping her in the dark was lying, just as their father had been to them for years; but he couldn't. Then she'd have to deal with the awfulness of the realisation and the constant unpleasant knot in his stomach that the knowledge gave him.
  
  Ignorance was bliss, they said. He still wished their father had just told them, though - Transfiguration. Essays. Miss Skye. He consciously twisted his expression into a smile, giving himself a beat before murmuring agreement. "I suppose so," he admitted. There were things he'd rather do than try and explain the whole vanishing-into-nothingness-that-is-everything concept, but Evanesco would definitely be a useful spell. (If only it could erase all your troubles, too.) "Conjuring should be even better than being able to Vanish things, as well, but I expect that will be a lot more difficult." It was NEWT level, after all, not something they'd cover until next year. He could let the conversation die there, leaving them preoccupied about exams and such, but Theodore decided instead to plough on with a touch of genuine curiosity. "Do you think you'll keep taking it next year; have you decided on your NEWTs yet?"