As Harry opened his eyes from the dreamless slumber, the first thing he noticed was Evelyn looking down at him. He was lying on her lap, on the ground. A peculiar orange glow, mostly from the sunset, was reflecting off from her golden hair. Her otherwise cheerful eyes were moist and blank – and he had never seen her so much without joy before. Her signature smile that she always flashed at him, from which happiness emancipated – had disappeared.