In the Melancholy Moonlight

Chapter CLXIII: Grawp

LUCY:

January passed in a hazy blur. Having Quidditch back in my life meant that more of my evenings were filled with practice, which meant that more of my nights were filled with homework, which meant that more of my mornings started with "Lucy, you really have to get up now if you don't want to be late to class," which meant that more of my afternoons included the phrase "Maybe you should take a nap before practice" (which of course I never did). On nights Harry had Occlumency, we blew off steam afterward in the Room of Requirement with a duel, and from time to time on nights he didn't, one or both of us would head there with Neville for a while. Our D.A. meetings consisted of shield charms, making sure everyone was as strong with those as possible before we started using actual dueling spells against each other.

Before I knew it, the full moon was two days away. I had decided not to take wolfsbane for a couple of reasons. First and foremost, I hated it. I hated how much sicker it made me than the typical pre-full moon symptoms, I hated how careful and secretive I had to be about taking it, I hated how it put Hagrid at risk — especially with Umbridge around — to harbor it for me. I hated how it impacted my Quidditch-playing ability, too; with practices getting more intense by the day in preparation for the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match, I couldn't afford to be sloppy in practice because I wasn't feeling well. And we reasoned well enough that now that I had Ginny, I would be safe in the forest even without wolfsbane, where we had plenty of room to run and explore without the risk of running into anything or anyone as long as we were careful.

So, Friday afternoon, instead of rushing down to Hagrid's to get wolfsbane before practice started, I was sitting under a tree quite a bit of distance away from the castle with my History of Magic book in my lap and my Walkman headphones around my neck. The solitude and cold was refreshing, but the former of the two didn't last. Over the sound of "Just the Way You Are" by Billy Joel, I heard the sound of uncertain footsteps crunching through the snow. I didn't need to peek around the tree to know it was Harry — he was the only person with the ways, means, and madness to come after me in this weather.

"Hey you, I thought you had your date tonight," I said without looking up from my book as soon as he was in earshot.

He didn't ask how I knew it was him, just walked faster until he was in front of me. "Yeah, I do."

Something about his tone was off, so I glanced up. He was wearing a bright orange Chudley Cannons beanie in addition to a bulky maroon coat over his robes, making him look a bit like a fwooper. The embarrassed flush in his cheeks in addition to the anxious way he had crossed his arms really completed the look.

I tossed my book aside, jumped up, and yanked the beanie off his head before he could even think about trying to stop me. I immediately understood why he looked the way he did — his hair was sticking in no fewer than sixteen different directions, locked into place by hair gel.

I couldn't stop myself from laughing. "How did you manage to find a Muggle car wash on the grounds of Hogwarts to do your hair, Potter?"

"Is it really that bad?" he asked with a groan.

I winced. "Yes."

Harry swore. "What am I going to do? I was hoping you'd reassure me it wasn't that bad."

"I wish I could, but it is that bad."

Harry swore again, dragging his hand down his face.

"Hey, hey, it's alright, let me see what I can do."

I practically shoved him to the ground and extracted my wand from my pocket. His hair was always messy, but it was always in a careless, effortless, shapeless sort of way that made it endearing. It was just part of what made Harry Harry. But whatever gel he had used had effectively eliminated the careless, effortless, shapeless mess of Harry's hair and had instead turned it into a sharp-angled nightmare that looked rather like someone had used a permanent sticking charm to attach black stalactites and stalagmites to his head.