In the Melancholy Moonlight

Chapter CXXXVII: October 14, 1989

LUCY:

I slept better after the first Dumbledore's Army meeting than I had in... a long time. A very long time. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow and didn't stir all night long. I headed downstairs far earlier than usual on a Saturday, hoping to see Harry and talk a bit more about the meeting since we'd gotten distracted the night before. When I spotted him on the couch, I hurdled over the back and landed next to him with a smile.

"Good morning! So about last night—" The words died on my lips when I saw his face. It looked as if he hadn't slept all night. "Harry, what happened?"

He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's—" Harry coughed to clear his throat. "It's nothing. What were you saying about last night?"

Normally, I wouldn't press him. I'd let him close himself off, close myself off in response, and carry on like nothing was wrong. But I didn't. I couldn't. Not when he looked like that.

I twisted so I was facing him completely and reached for his hand, tangling my fingers with his. "Harry... bad dream?"

Harry nodded, still not looking at me.

"Was it about the graveyard?"

He nodded again, and tears glistened in his eyes for a second before disappearing.

"I'm sorry." I leaned forward so my forehead was against his shoulder. "I'm guessing you'd rather not talk about it?"

"You guessed correctly."

"That's alright. Would you rather just listen to me talk?"

"Sure."

So I did. I talked in a low voice about everything I had noticed the night before, the way Henry's seventh-year Hufflepuff friends had more or less adopted the Creevey brothers and the way Henry had more or less adopted Neville and the fact that Ron did manage to disarm Hermione and the fact that the twins had already mastered the nonverbal Disarming Charm and had started trying to do it wandlessly. I thought maybe by filling the tiny silent void that had opened between us overnight with words about what we had done together, I might be able to bridge the gap, but after ten minutes of me talking, Harry hadn't said anything aloud. He had just nodded in the right places and drummed his shaking fingers against the back of my hand still holding his.

When I heard the familiar rumble of a couple of footsteps coming down the stairs, I shifted away from him and leaned against the opposite arm of the couch. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, fine." He didn't meet my eyes and dragged his hand down his face instead. "Sorry, just tired. Didn't sleep very well after that nightmare."

"It's alright," I said. It was. I understood that. I wasn't terribly sociable after poor nights of sleep either. But something felt off, different. I just wanted him to look at me again. Please, Harry, where did you go? "I mean, it is a Saturday. You could go back to bed if you wanted."

Harry shook his head. "Practice this morning."

"Oh. Right." I was about to ask if he wanted to head down to Hagrid's to feed Tuck and Fang with me when the door to the girls' dormitories opened and revealed that the footsteps I had heard belonged to Angelina and Alicia and Katie.

"Oh, Harry, you're up already! Perfect!" Angelina said. "Morning, Lucy! I'm not used to seeing you awake at this hour anymore. Why're you up?"

"I was just about to head down to Hagrid's hut to feed the dogs," I replied, rising to my feet and tightening my ponytail. "Good luck out there in the rain, it looks—"

I was interrupted by a flash of lightning and crash of thunder that made me jump a couple feet into the air. The girls laughed, but Harry looked at me for the first time all morning, alarm written all over his face.