In the Melancholy Moonlight

Chapter CXXII: Cracks in the Floor

HARRY:

"You alright, Harry?" Ron asked.

I blinked hard and glanced at him across the table. "Yeah, why?"

He considered saying something for a second before shaking his head. "Just checking."

"Yeah, I'm fine," I muttered, returning my attention to the half-written essay in front of me. I must have spaced out again. As I pressed the quill tip to the parchment, my hand trembled ever so slightly. "Just hope she's alright."

"Don't worry, I'd know if she was in any danger," Hermione said, twirling the ring on her finger. "I've been keeping an eye on it. Nothing's frightened her."

Ron and I both glanced at the ring. At the moment, Lucy's half was a dull shade of blue. Hermione's was a bit of a war between purple and white — purple, I guessed, was fear, but I hadn't seen white too often.

"That... doesn't look promising," Ron managed after a moment.

Hermione sighed. "Well... it's... somewhat better than it has been the past couple weeks, in a sense, maybe."

"I haven't been glancing at it lately," I said. Truthfully, I'd somewhat forgotten about it. I hadn't needed to look at the ring much at all the past month, come to think of it. I had just... noticed more about her. Like the way she flinched at loud noises and sudden movements, or the way her shoulders tensed when anything reminded her of Cedric. "What has it been?"

She shifted uncomfortably, as if she had wished I hadn't asked. "It's... odd."

"How so?" I pressed.

"I'm not sure if something's gone wrong with the ring's magic since something's gone wrong with hers, but it's been blank more often than not."

"Is that better or worse than, well, this?" Ron asked.

Hermione sighed. "I don't know. If something's wrong with the ring, that's one thing, but if she's, I don't know, actively shoving everything down and somehow fooling herself into thinking she's fine..."

"That sounds more likely," I admitted quietly.

As all three of us stared at the ring, Lucy's half went to blank silver.

Hermione checked her watch. "That probably means she's fallen asleep, with how suddenly it disappeared. Reckon we should probably do the same."

"But there's so much homework still to do, Hermione!" Ron groaned dramatically, poking fun at her to try to lighten the mood around the table because of Lucy's empty chair. "Are you sure we could afford to take a break overnight?"

"Affordable or not, I'm taking the break," I replied with a roll of my eyes. "Tomorrow might be one of the last nice days of the year, we could work outside for a change of scenery."

"I'm in!" Hermione said.

"Great, me too." Ron gathered up his parchment, and Hermione and I did the same. After a round of "Good night"s, we retreated to our own respective dormitories. A surge of the worry I'd been trying to push down swept over me again as Hermione headed for the door alone. I tried to push it down again, but once I was asleep, it roared back to life with a ferocity it hadn't possessed since the worst of the summer.

I'd mentioned a couple of my nightmares in the diary a couple of times, but I'd never gone into detail. She had never asked, either. Not that I would have wanted to explain even if she had asked. It wasn't the same nightmare every time, but the end result was consistent, terrifyingly consistent: no nightmare ever ended well for Lucy.