The moon was bright, and She seemed to tease Harry. Cruel, in that she was a brilliant lamp shining down on them. Cruel, because Her mouth was open in laughter —amusing Herself with the knowledge that they were marching into danger and She had the honour of lighting their way. Harry wondered if she knew her light was artificial —a mere reflection of the sun. That she couldn't even lend warmth. Let Her laugh at Her own insignificance. 