In the Melancholy Moonlight

Chapter XXII: Eleven Years Old

Once I was eleven years old
I always had that dream like my daddy before me
So I started writing songs, I started writing stories
Something about that glory just always seemed to bore me
'Cause only those I really love will ever really know me

"7 Years"
Lukas Graham

LUCY:

The next time the Weasleys asked if I could spend the night, Mum had to say I was sick and hadn't left my room in a couple of days. It was true; it was the day before the full moon, and now that I was home and had no classes to attend, I had no reason to leave my room. Mum placed charms on the curtains to block out all light and on every wall to block out all sound. I spent my time either pacing around the room or curled in a ball on top of my bed. I was relieved to not need to go to classes or attempt to hide how truly awful I was feeling, but I missed the words of comfort Hermione would offer in a whisper every month to get me through the days. And I was bored, horribly bored, but being unable to use my wand as a light, I had nothing to do but pace back and forth and attempt to sleep.

When night fell, I couldn't help it anymore. I needed to leave my room. I needed to see the stars. I needed to feel the cool night air on my skin, my bare skin, scarred though it was. I waited until I suspected my whole family would be asleep, then crept down the hallway and made my way down the stairs silently. My time with Fred and George had paid off; I didn't make a sound. I slipped out the front door, and took a deep breath. I was free. I had nearly reached the front gate when I heard the front door open behind me.

I wanted to turn around and see who it was, but I didn't want to risk blowing my sleepwalking cover. So I approached the gate, and intentionally bumped into it. I reached down and pretended to fumble with the latch as the footsteps approached. I smelled books and soil and evergreen-scented soap, and surely enough, it was Cedric's hand that reached forward and undid the latch for me. I wasn't sure what to do for a moment. Cedric was letting me out instead of trying to bring me back? But, like I hoped any sleepwalker would do, I walked through the gate without looking back. I heard the gate close behind me, and Cedric's footsteps following me. I kept staggering forward, not sure where to go or what to do. So I kept walking forward, across the dirt road and across the meadow that separated our house from the woods. I stopped at the edge of the forest, and when I heard Cedric stop too, I turned and reached my hand out, keeping my face a perfect blank as he took it. He seemed both amused and touched by the gesture.

"Come on, Harry," I said, turning back to the forest and leading Cedric in, "Hagrid is waiting for us."

I had been debating whether or not to tell Cedric about Norbert for a while. I had told the twins, as promised. They thought it was wickedly cool that I had actually helped raise a dragon, and they were amazed that I had managed to save the Invisibility Cloak and sneak into their dorm and borrow the map and return everything without getting caught. But they didn't worry about me the way Cedric did. Cedric was my brother after all, the twins were my friends. Cedric was my brother after all, I decided, and he deserved to know. I didn't want my mother overhearing anything I said, but she'd never overhear us here and Dad was away on a work trip. Now was the perfect time to come clean, while asleep of course.

"I hope he has another dragon for me!" I exclaimed.

Cedric sounded amused. "Another dragon for you?"

"Well, Norbert wasn't really for me, but I did help a lot. That was one of the best things to ever really happen to me, you know?"

"Really?" Now Cedric was genuinely curious. "I'm sorry, Lucy, my memory is failing me. Who's Norbert?"