In the Melancholy Moonlight, Part 5: Dark Matter

Chapter 222: Hold On to You

A/N: Hi all. This chapter is dark at first, so I wanted to warn you that past suicidal ideation is mentioned. It's intentionally not explained in too much depth or detail, but if you're at all sensitive to that topic, you can stop reading at "Everything except one thing" and start reading again at "George reached out suddenly and wrapped his arms around me." You won't miss much at all, I promise. After that, this chapter is genuinely full of so much love. Love love love.

Bottom line, Lucy is so very loved. Every time she thinks she's gone too far and that surely no one's love could ever reach her, she is proven wrong. I hope this chapter means as much to you as it does to me. I love you all so much.

🩵💛❤️💜🩷

LUCY:

The second Ginny dropped off to sleep, I started running for all I was worth.

I couldn't breathe.

Casting silencing spells in every direction, I sprinted out of her room, down the stairs, through the kitchen, out the front door, and into the night. I was overcome with the sudden urge to get off the ground, into the sky, somehow, so I found a tree sturdy enough for me to climb and I did. I clambered up the tree, mess of limbs and ragged breathing, and settled at the top with my legs dangling freely and my hands in my lap.

All I had ever wanted to be was a protector, yet in the act of protecting, I'd caused pain. I'd hurt Harry and Ginny.

Whether people thought I was good or bad or something in between, I was clearly, objectively, undeniably dangerous. Dangerous. I was dangerous. I had always been dangerous. I would always be dangerous.

I was a fool for letting myself be persuaded otherwise, even temporarily.

A fool and a monster. A monster and a fool. A foolish monster. A monstrous fool.

What a dangerous combination.

I wasn't sure how long I'd been up in the tree when a glimmer of gold got my attention. Through the tree branches, I could make out a couple of golden footprints. Someone was tracking me.

I relaxed, though, when it was George's voice I heard, whisper-shouting, "Lucy! Lucy! Where the bloody hell are you? Hold on — why are your footprints on the tree?"

I peered down just as George reached the trunk of the tree. He looked up at me, bafflement written all over his face. When I made no move to climb down, he held his wand between his teeth and started climbing up.

Once he reached the top of the tree, he lowered himself onto the branch next to me and twisted until his back was resting against the tree trunk so he could face me.

"Okay, Cub, what the hell?" he panted.

I gnawed on my lower lip and stared at my hands instead of answering. Apparently, in the time I'd been sitting in the tree, I'd been gnawing on my lip quite a bit, because I could taste blood.

"Lucy," George said, more desperately, "why are you sitting at the top of a tree at three o'clock in the morning on Boxing Day?"

I couldn't bring myself to say anything.

George reached forward and grabbed my hands, squeezing. "Lucy."

I slowly brought my eyes to his. He was unnerved by my silence, that much was obvious, but I wasn't sure what to say. I couldn't lie, but I didn't want to tell the truth either.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said softly. "Fred told me what happened, so as soon as he went to bed, I came back to check on you, and appare vestigium led me here." When I didn't say anything in response to that, he kept going. "He did mention that you were scarily silent, and that you wouldn't look anyone in the eyes. But, well, here you are, looking at me, so I have hope that you'll talk to me too, when you're ready."