GLACIERS MELTING IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT
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and the superstars sucked into the supermassive

It wasn't exactly a secret that Juliette hadn't slept very well last night. She hadn't been out with the girls either, seeing as everyone else in her dorm had returned from a wild night out in Hogsmeade at three in the morning previous. By that time she'd sat around and done all her studying, gone for a quick run (and been caught by one of the teachers, she didn't know which one) and tried to get to sleep. Her pillow had been in shreds, and the other girls, too giggly and drunk to notice how irritated she was, had thought it funny when she'd showered them with the feathers from her destroyed pillow. And she didn't even know how she'd done it. Her teeth weren't that strong, nor was she superhuman (much). So, the night was a mystery, but at the precise moment of Saturday morning, at ten am, she wanted to curl up and die.

The outburst of supreme grouchiness had been immensely unexpected, but unshakable through the past few days. She had tried to get out of it, gotten Lacey and Eliza to take her out on the town, only to be pissed off at their vampire stamina and declaring 'YOU SMELL REALLY BAD, Y'KNOW THATT?!' in front of a pub full of people. Not a very good idea, and she hoped they wouldn't hate her too much for it. They would, of course, put it down to lovesickness or something of the sort, and forgive her totally, seeing as one was deeply in love with one of the hottest guys in the year, and the other was searching for it. At least Jules was lucky. She knew who she wanted, it was just a matter of time.

At seven o'clock she had got up and went to dress, avoiding looking in the mirror until she absolutely had to. Her skin was paler than ever (and she didn't know that was possible) and she had purple bruises under her eyes, though not as extreme as perhaps those of her vampire friends. Just enough to tell the entire world she hadn't slept that night. And for once, she couldn't be bothered putting Concealment charms over them. It was a possibility she wouldn't see anyone she knew anyway, or would at least avoid them. (Avoidance was simple, she just put on a hat and slouched like a first year- she was small enough to do so...) Her outfit wasn't conspicuous, just very Juliette-ish if you knew her. No one else knew why she only wore shorts and t-shirts inside the castle and didn't feel cold- nobody else had ever got close enough to touch her bare skin, to feel how burning hot and abnormal it was.

So, walking through the halls of Hogwarts she kept her head down. Eight in the morning on a Saturday morning, no one else was up, except those either playing Quidditch or the weird and delusional (Juliette counted herself as the second). She sat quietly at the Ravenclaw table, grabbing a bagel roll and stuffing it with fluffy scrambled eggs, before helping herself to the goblet of dry cranberry juice that she had sitting in front of her. She kept her hair hidden under her hood, her damp-yet-drying hair lying flat across her back and t-shirt. A neon pink plaited band crossed her forehead, making her look somewhat hippyish, to keep her untamed waves at bay, and also, she hoped, to sooth (or at least move) her headache.

Breakfast took half an hour as she slowly contemplated the world over her goblet and slowly got up to leave as she heard the faint sounds of a babbling crowd of teenage girls a couple of corridors away. She moved fast, and soon she got up to the Ravenclaw dorms and tugged another comb through her thick hair, and brushed her teeth. A few smiles here and there and she disappeared again, taking one of her favourite muggle books with her to find a quiet spot in the school. The corridors wound up and down the floors, and Jules happily spent a long time just wandering, skipping as if she was a little first year again and there was nothing wrong in the world. This trail, of course, led her to her normal hide-out, and she silently wished that she would be able to open the door, something of a thrill in her thoughts as she tapped the doorknob lightly and it clicked open. The armour gallery. The room where no student dared to go, and she shouldn't have after the trio's exploits in first year. But there was something nice about the room, it was calm, dusty and full of memories. Picnics when she couldn't go outside because of hayfever and Neville and Victoria had wanted to cheer her up, and singing to the suits of armor on her worst days, when they gave her polite applause. If there was anything (or one of the things) that could brighten up her day, it was this room.

She walked for a few minutes, finally spying the high stone windowsill she seeked. It was about two meters wide, and about three times Juliette's height up in the room. Thankfully there were cabinets, so she clambered up on them, dusting the heavy layers of dust from her knees when she reached it. Juliette leaned against the wall, head tilted back as she felt the sun coming through the stained glass to her, feeling it's warmth and closing her eyes. Closing her eyes so she started drifting, just drifting away to sleep...