"I have a month left to live."
It was a lie, right?
Deep down, he knew that she wouldn’t pull such a horrendous joke on him. No, she was one of the few that he could trust when it came to realism— she was a bit odd, but regardless, she was one of his friends. Which is why none of this sat right with the Gryffindor. She was too young, too full of life. She had everything going for and to hear that her life was going to be cut short— it saddened him.
As he watched over her features, he
felt a sense of calmness from her. It
was baffling. She was to die and yet
she seemed okay with it. Perhaps even
better than okay, she seemed to not
mind in the slightest.
Honestly, this angered him.
He snapped.
“A month left? That’s it? Why?”
Arms folded over his protruding chest, his eyes narrowing at the smaller female. No, she was not to die. No matter the reasoning behind it— he wouldn’t allow it. It was foolish in his eyes. “It’s complete rubbish! You’re not gonna’ die, Luna. I’ll make sure of it.”
