In the Melancholy Moonlight

Chapter CLVII: Take a Chance on Me

LUCY:

When I first opened my eyes, I had no idea where I was. I would have shot up to a sitting position to better take in my surroundings, but I was exhausted and disoriented so I settled for rolling over and rubbing my eyes.

"Good morning," Harry's voice said from somewhere across the room.

I kept rubbing my eyes, trying to force the heaviness away. "'Morning. Where are we?"

"12 Grimmauld Place," he replied, with no shortage of amusement. "You've been sleeping for close to 18 hours, so I'm not surprised that you're confused."

"Eighteen—" I forced my eyes open and looked around. Surely enough, we were in the downstairs sitting room of 12 Grimmauld Place with a couple of weakly-flickering candles for company. Harry was in an armchair across the room with Flying with the Cannons propped open on his lap, and I was on the couch practically buried under two blankets. I blinked a couple of times, trying to remember how I had gotten here. Right. The snake. The Portkey. The hospital. The escape attempt. Right. I pulled the blankets tighter around me and closed my eyes again. "Then why am I still tired?"

"You can go back to sleep if you want, everyone knows not to bother us."

I pulled the blankets tighter still, but a sharp pain shot through my shoulder, and I couldn't help but wince. I had forgotten about ditching my sling.

Harry didn't miss the wince. "What is it?"

"Shoulder," I muttered, opening my eyes. The pain kept building, so I pushed myself up to a sitting position and dragged a hand down my face. I opened my mouth to ask how he was feeling when the doorbell sounded and Mrs. Black's portrait started screaming. I jumped, then swore under my breath when I realized how ridiculous I was being.

Ridiculous or not, though, Harry didn't make light of it. "It's okay," he said, locking eyes with me and setting the book aside. "Probably just an Order member."

I nodded, pressing my hands over my ears until the screaming stopped. Once it did, I drew a deep breath and smiled weakly at Harry. "How many times have you read that book?"

"Er... enough to lose count?"

I managed a laugh. "Fair enough."

"Have you read it?"

"No, of course not, it's blasphemous."

"Blasphemous?" he repeated with a grin.

"Reading Magpies in Flight is clearly the better way to spend your time," I said. "Such a shame Ron got to you before I did."

"You fell asleep in the middle of the Quidditch conversation, so I suppose you didn't really stand a chance."

I laughed. "Sleep is the enemy."

"No it is not," Harry said, shaking his head even as his smile widened. "Speaking of blasphemous. Sleep is your friend."

"It gets in the way of other perfectly enjoyable ways to spend time," I protested. I was going to go on when there was a knock at the door.

"I know you're in there and I want to talk to you!" Hermione shouted.

"Oh, bloody hell," Harry muttered, getting up to open the door. Hermione had snow clinging to her hair, and she was shivering. "What are you doing here? I thought you were skiing with your mum and dad."

"Well, to tell the truth, skiing's not really my thing, so I've come for Christmas. But don't tell Ron that, I told him it's really good because he kept laughing so much. Anyway, Mum and Dad are a bit disappointed, but I've told them that everyone who's serious about the exams is staying at Hogwarts to study. They want me to do well, they'll understand. Anyway, let's go to your bedroom, Harry, Ron's mum lit a fire in there and she's sent up sandwiches."