In the Melancholy Moonlight

Chapter 192: What Do I Stand For?

This is it, boys, this is war, what are we waiting for?
Why don't we break the rules already?
I was never one to believe the hype
Save that for the black and white
I try twice as hard, and I'm half as liked
But here they come again to jack my style

And that's alright
I found a martyr in my bed tonight
Stops my bones from wondering
Just who I am, who I am, who I am
Oh, who am I?

Well, some nights, I wish that this all would end
'Cause I could use some friends for a change
And some nights, I'm scared you'll forget me again
Some nights, I always win, I always win
But I still wake up, I still see your ghost
I'm still not sure what I stand for

What do I stand for?
What do I stand for?
Most nights, I don't know

So this is it?
I sold my soul for this?
Washed my hands of that for this?
I miss my mom and dad for this?
No, when I see stars
When I see stars, that's all they are
When I hear songs, they sound like this one, so come on

"Some Nights"
Fun

~

HENRY:

I stopped by the joke shop after a Wednesday afternoon practice. I hadn't been by since the first week of summer because I had been so busy hunting for a flat, but since I finally found one and moved in, I figured it was high time to pay a visit to three of my favorite people.

Even though I arrived about half an hour before they were supposed to close, the shop was deserted, and instead of prancing around the shop as they always did, Lucy, George, and Fred were all perched on various staircases with their chins in their hands and their eyes drooping shut.

"Bloody hell, you all look exhausted," I commented as I strolled through the door. "What happened?"

Instead of answering me, they all looked at each other and started laughing.

I shook my head. "You've all officially lost it."

"No!" George protested. "No, we've — we're brilliant!"

"We are!" Fred added.

Lucy pushed herself to her feet and dragged her hand down her face, still laughing. "We were up all night. Working. New product."

"Sleep is important, you know," I said, painfully aware of how Cedric-like I sounded in that moment. "Essential, even."

"This was more important," George argued with a tired, crooked grin.

"It was worth it, at any rate." Lucy beamed. "We're going to call it the Daydream Charm. One incantation, one daydream, so vivid it's like you've stuck your head in a Pensieve. Without the actual Pensieve part, of course, those are unwieldy. But, well, we thought it would be easiest to execute a trial run if we had... memories..." Lucy's voice trailed off, a contemplative expression creeping over her face.

Fred, who was behind her, didn't see this and assumed she was simply too tired to complete her story. "We figured basing the daydreams on actual memories would make it easier, so we went and made several last night."

"Like what? And how?" I asked, curious and a bit concerned about the legality of whatever they had done.

"We pretended to be pirates from dusk 'til dawn, Mr. Magpie," George answered, "on a borrowed pirate ship."