Ren collapsed on her four-poster bed without the slightest care for her muddy shoes sinking into the blanket. The dormitory was quiet except for the faint crackle from the common room fire below. The familiar, comforting scent of old wood, parchment, and warm wool enveloped her. The heaviness in her limbs finally gave way to something gentler, the kind of peace that came only after a day that had wrung every bit of energy out of her. Her eyelids fluttered, heavy and slow, as she sank deeper into that sweet nothingness. Sleep was coming for her, soft and certain, the best feeling in the world.
She barely registered the sound of someone moving about the room when a loud, cheery, and unmistakably squealy voice shattered the peace like a rogue bludger through glass.
"First snow of the year!"
Ren's eyes snapped open, her half-formed dream evaporating into thin air. "HEY, I'M TRYING TO SLE—" Her face twisted from irritation to sudden realization mid-yell. The girl at the windowsill wasn't just yelling at the weather; she was actually addressing her.
"I assumed you were just lying down," the girl said coolly, turning to face Ren with an amused little smirk. Her auburn hair, rich and deep, almost bloodlike when the dim dorm light caught it and it fell in soft waves below her shoulders. Her skin seemed to glow against the gray moon light filtering through the snow-streaked glass. Ren instinctively licked her dry lips, aware of her own messy hair, the ink smudge still on her wrist, and the faint trace of drool she hoped wasn't visible. She suddenly felt like the human equivalent of a crumpled parchment next to someone painted by moonlight.
"Yeah, sorry about the yelling," Ren muttered, clearing her throat as she turned toward the window. Beyond the glass, delicate flakes drifted lazily from the overcast sky. It was the first soft sprinkle that made everything look slower, quieter, and faintly magical. She'd never paid attention to such things before; snow had always just been weather. But somehow, right now, it felt oddly satisfying to watch it fall. Like something gentle was finally happening for once.
"I'm Ren, by the way," she said, her voice coming out rougher than she meant it to, scratchy, like she'd swallowed snitch. She sounded more like someone introducing herself at a new school than a fourth-year who'd been there all along.
"Yeah, I know. We share the dorm." The girl nodded, tone casual, as if Ren had announced something everyone already knew. Which, of course, was true. They had shared the same dorm for years. Ren had just never bothered to actually talk to her. Not properly.
"I know. You're Lily." She gave a curt nod, immediately regretting how stiff and formal it sounded.
Lily smiled faintly, but her eyes were sharp. "You observe a lot. And I observe you."
That was not the kind of sentence one knew how to respond to. She shrugged instead, hoping it passed as nonchalance rather than social malfunction.
Then Lily tilted her head, eyes narrowing just slightly. "Does your scar have a cool backstory?" she pointed at Ren's right cheek where a deep cross shaped scar lingered, reminding one of petrine cross.
Ren felt goosebumps as she ran her fingers caressing it, the flashbacks of the backstory rushed onto her mind as she winced thinking back through it. "Wouldn't say it's cool," she muttered finally.
Lily nodded understandingly as if she could already see right past through reasons. She turned back to the snow outside, and the silence that followed was oddly comfortable.
Then, without warning, Lily spoke again. "Don't involve yourself with the James lot. They're no good. You're better off alone than friends with them." Her tone was serious now, almost protective, which caught Ren completely off guard.
"Eh? I despise them. I got off on the wrong foot with that boy James, literally." Her voice came out defensive, but the truth was, she did want to please Lily. This was the first proper conversation anyone had voluntarily had with her outside of class.
"You do?" Lily's face lit up. "I know, right? They're the worst. They mess with my friend, too." Her voice grew animated, and Ren realized with faint amusement that nothing brought two girls together faster than a shared disdain for the same group of boys.
"Your friend? That greasy-looking Slytherin?" Ren blurted before she could stop herself.
"He's a nice person!" Lily shot back immediately, glaring.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way," Ren said quickly, covering her mouth in embarrassment. But honestly, that was exactly how she remembered him, that pale, scrawny kid constantly picked on by James and his lot.
"But yeah," Lily sighed, "the greasy one. He's Snape."
Ren's mind wandered for a moment. James had Pettigrew, that nervous, eager-to-please tagalong. Lily had Snape, gloomy, intense, loyal in his own strange way. Did every popular person need a wimpy sidekick to balance out? And if Lily decided Ren was her new project, did that make her the wimpy sidekick? The thought made her shudder. Being miserable alone suddenly sounded far better than being someone's loser sidekick.
"Oh, yeah," Ren mumbled, stepping back a little, unsure what else to say.
Lily didn't seem to notice her discomfort. Instead, she reached into her pocket and shoved something small and crinkly into Ren's hand. "Oh, wait, here, have a bite."
Ren looked down. It was a small chocolate wrapped in a bronze-gold paper that shimmered faintly in the dim light looking almost like a roasted hazelnut. She squinted at it suspiciously.
"It's a Chocolate Eternal," Lily explained, unwrapping one half-eaten piece from her own hand. "Supposedly never melts. I've had this one the whole week."
Ren raised an eyebrow. The name sounded made up, like something meant to scam gullible first years. Still, she unwrapped it slowly and popped it into her mouth. It was sweet, almost too sweet with that perfect hint of cocoa bitterness. But the moment her teeth sank into it, the so-called "eternal" chocolate promptly melted, threatening to drip out the corners of her mouth.
Lily's eyes widened. "Merlin's beard, they do melt!" She burst into laughter, genuine and loud, the kind that filled the entire room with warmth.
Ren couldn't help it; she laughed too. The sound felt foreign, like something rusty being used again after years of silence.
What followed was an unexpectedly long and easy conversation, about the trolley lady on the train and her endless boxes of sweets, about professors they liked and loathed. The kind of talk that drifted without direction but somehow made the room feel smaller, softer, alive.
By the time Ren finally collapsed back onto her bed, her jaw hurt from smiling. Her eyelids drooped again, heavier now. She could still hear Lily's faint humming near the window, the soft rhythm of snow tapping against the glass.
And then, just as she drifted toward sleep once more, one thought refused to let go. Even as the rest of her thoughts dissolved into the blur of dreams, that question about her scar remained like a whisper at the back of her mind, dragging her unwillingly toward the memory she'd spent years burying.