In the Melancholy Moonlight

Chapter CXXXI: Only I Can Save Me

I'm dancing with my demons
I'm hanging off the edge
Storm clouds gather beneath me
Waves break above my head

LUCY:

Friday night, it rained. It rained and rained and rained. There was no thunder, no lightning, just rain. Rain upon rain upon rain.

I was always restless the night before the full moon, always, but that night was different. I wandered, as I often did, but it wasn't aimless. I wandered through my memories.

I made my way to the Room of Requirement long past midnight. Nobody, professor or poltergeist or student or specter, crossed my path, as if the Room of Requirement was exactly where I was meant to be. As if the past was exactly where I was meant to be.

I had no vials in my pocket. I had no set destination. I had nothing but an ache in my heart and a weight on my shoulders.

One hundred and eight full moons. October 7, 1995 would be the one hundred and ninth.

One hundred and eight full moons. One hundred and eight times, my bones had shifted into those that would make up a monster capable of the most horrific sorts of crimes against nature and magic alike.

One hundred and eight full moons. One hundred and eight times, my skin had been forced to accommodate the monster's bones with a strain so tremendous I couldn't help but scream even after so many repetitions of the same trauma.

One hundred and eight full moons. One hundred and eight times, Lucy disappeared.

One hundred and eight full moons. One hundred and eight times, the nameless monster took her place.

One hundred and eight full moons. October 7, 1995 would be the one hundred and ninth.

I closed the door silently behind me and approached the now-familiar Pensieve.

I thought it only fitting to visit again the night it all began. I didn't need the help of the vials anymore. I pressed my wand tip to my temple and waited a moment for the memory to rise to the surface.

There.

I slowly pulled my wand away, dragging the memory along with it. It was like pulling a splinter, but I forced myself to ignore the pain as I cast the shimmering ghost of the past into the stone basin below. I tucked my wand into my pocket — I hadn't tucked it into my bra one single time since escaping the caves — and plunged headfirst into the Pensieve.

I knew the memory well. The dance with my demons was choreographed, I knew the routine. A production of sorts. I knew everyone's entrance and exit, I knew everyone's steps and spins, and I hoped to one day be a part of the scene again, as a sister and a daughter and not just a phantom bystander in the dark night. I followed, a silent shadow, hoping I was swaying in time to the forgotten rhythm of the currents of the memory.

The voice of Claire Everlin was first. My sister. So close we were nearly twins, we were Irish twins, we were inseparable, or at least so we thought. So we thought we were supposed to be. "Where are we going, Daddy?"

"The moon is going to play a game tonight!" said the voice of Danny Everlin. The father I had known, the father I had forgotten. The father who might still be out there, who might still be waiting for me.

Lucy Everlin was next. Me. Or at least, who I used to be. "A game? How?"

"It's going to play hide-and-seek! See, sometimes the moon uses Earth to hide from the sun, and that's tonight! It should look really neat!"