++ Sunshine of Your Love - Cream, 1967. [OPEN]

It's getting near dawn,
When lights close their tired eyes
I'll soon be with you my love,
To give you my dawn surprise

A small tentacle of smoke twisted up into the pre-dawn hour, grasping for the light that was just beginning to illuminate the hidden countryside. The grass was growing dewy, glistening with reminders that life came in cycles, regardless of the human intervention that tried to disrupt it. The moon was clocking out, headed to starry companions who would welcome her along as the day shift guard began his yawning progress back into the world.

The large expanse of land that made up World Cup was unplottable and untrackable. Charms and spells were in place so that only this tiny population of the world could access this special event. The way Molly Weasley saw it, it was like she had found the place where the very idea of Being was compromised. With all of these charms and spells in affect, it was sort of like she didn't exist. She was in limbo. Of the world but not within it.

It was freedom.

She had always like that time before the sun rose up. Birds who must have restless spirits like her began twittering confused little messages to each other, before sighing through the air when they realized that, while they got the worm, it was a lonely job indeed. The grey husk rolled across the landscape, as the inky night faded and the pink day tossed beneath its covers. It was always cold, and she could feel her body slowly thaw. It reminded her to warm to the idea of other people, to feel her blood and tissues everyday, to remember that life was not something you could count on. You couldn't count on anything. Which meant no one really had to do anything.

Again. Freedom.

She had pulled her plaid shirt on over her tank top as the air was particularly cold. It was a special feeling, knowing she was surrounded by hundreds of wizards who were all so excited for something, and yet they were all still sleeping. So loud just hours before as they drank, and talked, and commiserated, and cheered, and sang. They traded one shared experience for another, as they all rested together, safe and snug in ramshackle, fabric homes, happy to be surrounded by strangers who probably meant well. If the tired sun would not awake to warm her icy body, that thought alone could.

She exhaled smoke again, the paper of her cigarette feeling unbelievably real between her fingers. Her back was supported by the soft ground, her legs crossed over the other, still wearing the clothes she had passed out in at four o'clock in the morning. Bev had found friends for them to drink with, and they had spent those precious hours acquainting themselves before the all drifted into an alcohol-aided slumber. Her internal clock kept her from missing her favorite part of the day, however. Smudged makeup was forgotten beneath round glassed, and the plaid shirt she had original tied around her waist had proven functional as well as fashionable.

She liked Bev, and his friends. It was nice to be around people. But alone, before even the sun had awoken for his duties... that provided a special sort of bliss she was not sure she could ever give up. Just as the nicotine calmed the dark shapes in her mind and the clamoring in her heart, the predawn hour simultaneously lent feelings of significance and futility that managed to keep her warring mind in times of peace.

In an hour or so, players would storm the fields to demand opportunities to run their drills. Fans would awaken and attempt to make camp breakfasts. Neighbors would call out to each other. Friends would escape to begin the day of fun as early as possible. Couples would love, friends would laugh, families would care. People would hurt, and people would lie, and bad things would happen. Life would awaken. But for now, Molly was alone in a place that did not actually exist. And while the dawn remained the only real thing in her world, she was going to enjoy it.

Much to her parents chagrin, Nora had always been a morning person.  While her classmates seemed to split into two groups - those who set alarms for their morning jogs and those who sleepily threw pillows at them - Nora fell into a minority. She was simply.. awake. There was no last minute homework, no cleaning, and certainly no running. Nora normally just used her extra time to have an extra long time for breakfast and a prime shower spot.

Today, Nora was trying her best not to wake her tent-mates as she wiggled out of her top-bunk. The graceless bird hit the floor with heavy feet and quickly glanced around to find her friend's alcohol-induced slumber was too deep to be disturbed at this hour. Nora grabbed her sweatshirt off of a chair and a pair of shorts out of her duffel, shrugging them on over her underwear. A pair of her customary scuffed converse  were added to the ensemble as she slipped out the tent flap and into the still campground of the Quidditch World Cup.

The grass was dewy and within a few steps Nora's black shoes had turned a few shades darker. There was no aim in her trip - the majority of the camp was still blissfully asleep and it would be at least another hour before she could squeeze some food from the marketplace venders. It appeared there was only one activity being offered at this time of day - the sunrise. Nora slipped her way through tents, ignoring the designated paths to take a wiggly-jiggly senseless route that eventually got her to where she wanted, albeit much more slowly.

Even to a non-Quidditch buff like Nora the stadium was impressive. During the games it pulsed with a distinct electricity, the cheers and groans of thousands of wizards rising and falling in harmony. In contrast, the empty stadium felt all the more hollow now. Nora was suddenly so much smaller without having the crowd to life her up and help fill the space. Despite the field being empty, it was not dead. The green grass squished under her feet and bounced back up as she passed, a few rogue bugs buzzed by her head, and over there? Yes, there appeared to be an actual human being (though she lying still enough to match the plants surrounding her).

Perhaps the universe was providing a cure for the plight of the lonely early riser.

The wafting smoke acted as a lighthouse for Nora's as she crossed the dusky field. By the time she was within speaking distance Nora had identified the mystery girl as Molly Weasley, a somewhat elusive Ravenclaw girl in her year.

Nora found herself looking down over Molly, a permanently friendly expression imprinted on her face. "May I?" she asked, gesturing to the patch of ground beside her.

Her lungs were filling with air. Her mind was not concocting various way in which to destroy her. Her body aches no more than what was usual of a human. The golden face of the day watch beginning to bring the promise of warmth to her chilled limbs. Molly had every reason to feel that the world was in her corner. This did not provide an optimism, per se, as she had never exactly considered herself an optimist - strangely, that was Lucy, the girl who found complaint in everything. It was why she could complain. She expected the best from the world, the best for herself. Molly did not. She didn't expect anything. It wasn't optimism or pessimism. It just was. Neither hope nor dread. A quiet peace.

The sound of a voice did not disrupt her peace. It became one with it. Someone wishing to join her in her quiet worship of the world and of being. Molly lifted her head, hair falling behind her shoulder, exposing her neck to the cold air, causing a small eruption of goosebumps across her skin. Tingling. More proof of life. And another little mark of evidence was the Graham girl standing above her. Molly had a feeling she would be seeing the girl during the course of the cup, seeing as Bev was almost as eager to share a tent with Ducky Baker as he was to share a tent with her. Molly may not have made great friends with many Gryffindors her age, but she knew Baker and Graham well enough to know that where one went, the other followed.

It was a sweet dynamic. She wondered if they knew that.

Molly tipped her head in agreement, the corner of her mouth curling to show the simple pleasure of company. She ran her arm across the spot, flinging dew from the vegetation to give Nora a slightly more welcoming spot next to her. She waited for the Gryffindor to sit before pulling out her pack of cigarettes out, holding them out in a silent offering.

Nora easily sank on to the cool ground, the remaining droplets of dew abandoning their perches to stick on her bare legs. It was amazingly quiet in the stadium. Nora had more than her fair share of loud friends and it was not common for her in be in a place where every rustle of clothing could be heard. It was uncommon enough that even she noticed the change. 

Molly remained silent and Nora was reminded of why she had never approached the girl in the past. The Ravenclaw wasn't exactly the kid who you casually chatted with in the back of the class. Nora had always gotten the impression that Molly simply wasn't interested in things - at least nothing Nora had every talked about - and she preferred to hang to the side and do.. whatever it was that she did. 

A box of cigarettes was held out in front of her and Nora pulled one out, reaching with her other hand for a lighter that she spotted on the ground. 

"Cancer stick", the voice of her father popped in here head. 

Nora smiled at the memory, causing the cigarette in her mouth to wiggle slightly as she lit a flame and cupped her hand to block the wind as it caught. 

Exhale. 

"Thanks." Nora said, obliviously cutting into the silence as as dropped the lighter back on the ground. 

Nora was not a smoker. Not really. Not in the true sense. Much like sugar and spice she might occasionally accept them when offered but never found herself seeking the drugs out for herself. She had gotten used to the taste over time and while it had never instilled a craving within her the taste had come to remind her of Ducky, naturally making it much more pleasant. 

She took a cigarette and Molly raised her own a bit into the air, a silent cheers to the sweet, addictive nicotine. Nora thanked her and Molly hummed her welcome in response, but said nothing. There was something comforting in the presence of a stranger. Nora wasn't exactly a stranger, but she certainly wasn't anything else. Somehow, Molly felt like the magic would have been lost if Margo or Bev had joined her.

The sun began to streak across the sky, breaking up the fog and the mist. The blue of the night met the yellow of the day, and the front lines became pink and orange, creating a dazzling mural for them to gaze up at. A few stars had not escaped with their lunar friend, and twinkled confusedly as the light of day touched the earth, warming it and bringing it to life. They began their slow withdrawal back into the world of night, winking their good byes as the sun scooted them out of his home, reminding them of their natural place.

"It's hard to feel anything but hope during the sunrise," Molly mused, settling the stick between her lips and inhaling. She dropped her hand, her wrist resting atop her jutting hip bone. "Impossible, maybe."