In the Melancholy Moonlight

Chapter LVIII: Under the Rain

Hey, I know we've both been afraid
But we can't run from the wind and the thunder
When we're dancing under the rain

"Rain"
Ben Platt

LUCY:

I don't know what time I finally dropped off to sleep that night, but despite my exhaustion, anxiety woke me at the crack of dawn.

I had always loved dragons. I recalled with fondness my memories of Norberta from my first year.

Yet I had never feared any magical creature more than I feared dragons in that moment.

After about ten minutes of staring at the ceiling, I couldn't handle being still a moment longer. Casting a number of silencing charms, I crawled out of bed and got myself dressed for the day. Then I tucked my wand into my pocket, threw my broom over my shoulder, and hurried to the Quidditch Pitch.

It appeared that a storm had rolled in overnight. Dark clouds obscured what would have been the sunrise, and it was beginning to drizzle. But quite frankly, I couldn't have possibly cared less. I just needed to escape all of the pressures of the ground, as soon as possible.

As soon as my feet hit the lush grass of the field, I jumped onto my broom and kicked into the sky in a single fluid motion. I drew my wand and pointed in the direction of the ground.

"Accio Quaffle!"

A few seconds later, a Quaffle flew into my hands. I tore off in the direction of one set of goal hoops, weaving through invisible opponents, and launched the Quaffle clear through. In the same motion, I dove toward the ground and caught the ball before heading off in the direction of the goal hoops across the field.

The rain fell harder with every lap around the field, but with every Quaffle through a goal hoop, it seemed I was throwing a piece of my anger away, too.

Dad's comments in front of my friends the morning of the Quidditch World Cup. Dead center.

The attack on our tent and the return of the Death Eaters. Dead center.

Ludo Bagman cheating the twins. Dead center.

Professor Moody's first lesson, with all three Unforgiveable Curses. Dead center.

Professor Moody's continued unsettling comments, too. Dead center.

Everything about the Tournament. I'll admit, I was so mad about the Tournament that my first shot was slightly off center. Still clean through the hoop, though. I shook my head and forced myself to channel my anger.

Harry being chosen. Dead center.

Next to nobody believing he hadn't entered. Dead center.

Ron especially. Dead center.

Rita Skeeter not mentioning Cedric. Dead center.

Rita Skeeter lying about Harry. Dead center.

Harry has to fight a dragon. Dead center.

Cedric has to fight a dragon, and fire is his greatest fear. I threw the Quaffle with every remaining ounce of anger and strength I possessed. Dead center and clear out of the Pitch.

I streaked through the rain after it, and I managed to catch it before it reached the ground. When I returned to the Pitch, I saw that I was no longer alone.

"Lucy, what the hell are you doing out here?" Harry called.

"What are you doing out here?" I fired back.