In the Melancholy Moonlight

Chapter XCI: I'll Always Come Back

LUCY:

The worst part of life after being kidnapped and tortured was the shaking.

I heard Professor Lupin mutter to Mrs. Weasley that he was in contact with St. Mungo's, and they said the shaking would stop eventually. Everyone grew increasingly worried as my shaking worsened with time instead of getting better.

But I wasn't quite as worried, because I knew why.

The cycles of the moon never stopped for anything or anyone.

August was no different.

I wasn't allowed to help with any of the cleaning. I was getting a little stronger by the day, but I still shook uncontrollably no matter what I did, so I often landed on the couch of whatever room everyone else was working in. From time to time, the twins would slip me a stunned creature like a doxy that I was responsible for hiding until Mrs. Weasley left the room. They were experimenting more than ever for their products, and it was nice to feel included in at least a tiny part of the process

I was never alone.

After that first morning in Grimmauld, Harry started making excuses to stay with me until I fell asleep every night. He kept the nightmares away.

Harry helped keep the fears at bay during the day, too. Whenever the horrible screaming portrait of Walburga Black was triggered downstairs, his head always snapped in my direction to make sure that a) it wasn't me screaming, and b) I wasn't terribly upset by it. Whenever someone in the Order updated me on the search for Rose or how the Ministry was handling the report about me, Harry's hand found mine under the table. His hand often found me, for any reason, whether he was feeling my forehead or trying to help stop the shaking or even just confirming for himself that I was right there beside him.

Every little touch helped. It grounded me. It reminded me why I had made the decision to come back.

Harry was my lifeline. My safety net. My center of gravity.

But he didn't know what the full moon meant for me. And after everything I'd been through, I wasn't about to tell him. Voldemort had thought I'd want to join him because I was a werewolf after all. What was to stop Harry from thinking the same?

One day, the twins kept Harry occupied so I could have a moment alone with Professor Lupin to come up with a plan for the full moon. (They told me later it was a next-to-impossible task, and I believed it wholeheartedly.) Professor Lupin said the twins had already volunteered to go back to my house with me under the guise of helping me get my school supplies together, since Tonks had only packed the bare minimum for life at Grimmauld. I told him that I had transformed in the basement in July, since my parents were too afraid of the woods to let me go out for the night. He looked pained as he told me it would probably be safest for me to do that again. Harry returned before we had time to think on it further, shaking his head and muttering something about how he would never try any candy the Weasleys offered him again, but the plan was in place.

I tried to find a time to tell Harry the story about going home to pack for school. But before I knew it, the night before the full moon had arrived and he still didn't know.

It was going to be easy. I was going to walk upstairs with him after dinner, tell him the well-rehearsed lines, and say I'd be leaving the next day after lunch, just for overnight, I'd be back the next morning. But dinner ended up being quite the event.

It started with a shout from Mrs. Weasley of "Fred — George — NO, JUST CARRY THEM!"

A number of dishes flew through the air and crashed to the table in a variety of disastrous ways. Harry cracked up next to me, but Mrs. Weasley was livid.