The moon is not the only celestial body with cycles. The sun doesn't appear to grow and shrink in the sky over the course of the month, but it does rise in the east and set in the west, on its daily cycle. The other stars, the ones that rule over the night sky, follow their own yearly cycle, as Earth faithfully treads its annual path around the sun. All planets cycle around the sun, on their own time, in their own orbits, their own paths, their own proximity. Their own cycles.

So, too, did Lucy's people cycle around her, when the moon's cycle dictated that she must step back for a night and let the wolf take control.

Lucy was oblivious to these cycles, the routines in which those who love her participated every month.

Certain routines had been curated far enough from Lucy that she was unlikely to ever find out.

Minerva McGonagall always spent the night of the full moon brewing wideye potion. She knew that the Hospital Wing was always well-stocked, but when Remus Lupin had appeared at breakfast on September 6, 1971, wincing as he lowered himself onto a bench and falling asleep onto his toast mere minutes later, she had immediately marched to Horace Slughorn's office and asked for the most detailed brewing instructions he could provide and ordered two copper cauldrons that same morning. She had always secretly resented potions and avoided the subject whenever possible, despite being reasonably gifted at potion-brewing, but she had made an exception for the Animagus potion and she was going to make an exception for the wideye potion too in order to help a student in need. How much she brewed had changed over the years. When Remus was a first-year, she only needed two copper cauldrons, one potion for Remus and the other for Poppy. By his seventh year, she needed twelve copper cauldrons. One potion for Poppy. One potion for Remus. One potion for Cass, who always understood Remus best and always loved him deepest. One potion for Sirius, who was attached at the hip to Remus and who, quite frankly, always looked tired anyway. One potion for James, who was the most visibly anxious about Remus at all times but especially when the full moon came around each month. One potion for Lily, who had grown quite close with Remus after the Severus Snape incident. One potion for Peter, who was always watching from afar and looking for an opportunity to give Remus whatever James and Sirius couldn't provide (such as silence). One potion for Marlene and one potion for Mary and one potion for Dorcas, who kept a watchful vigil all night in the Gryffindor common room with Lily. One potion for Daphne and one potion for Keira, who kept each other company in the Slytherin common room waiting for Dorcas to return in the morning and confirm that everyone was alright. And one potion for Regulus, who looked tired after full moons every month after he turned in a piece of homework after class on behalf of Remus that was written in a handwriting that wasn't quite Remus's but was a very, very close and careful imitation of it. When Chiara Lobosca was a first-year, she used two of her copper cauldrons, one for Chiara and one for Poppy. By her seventh year, five cauldrons were in use. One potion for Poppy. One potion for Chiara. One potion for Adalyn, her best friend. One potion for Penny, who was working with Professor Snape to learn how to brew wolfsbane. One potion for Talbott, Chiara's first friend. When Lucy Everlin was a first-year, she used three of her copper cauldrons, one for Lucy, one for Cedric, and one for Poppy. As August 28 gave way to August 29, Minerva McGonagall was using five cauldrons. One potion for Lucy. One potion for Fred. One potion for George. One potion for Remus. One for Nymphadora. Next month, she'd be using all sixteen cauldrons she had acquired, for Lucy, for Harry, for Hermione, for Ron, for Ginny, for Neville, for Luna, for Archie, for Henry, for George, for Fred, for Arthur, for Alastor, for Remus, for Nymphadora, and maybe one for herself for once. After nearly twenty-five years of one sleepless night a month, she reckoned it was time she brew one for herself too.

Archie Graye waited for sunrise. As August 28 gave way to August 29, he was nose-deep in a book sprawled across the floor of one of Grimmauld Place's few rooms with a window, eyes flicking up to said window every couple of minutes even though he knew sunrise wasn't for another six hours or more.

Alastor Moody patrolled a different forest each full moon, to prevent anyone else from experiencing Lucy's fate. As August 28 gave way to August 29, he was firing a spell into a tree whose leaves whispered a little too loudly in the breeze.

Luna Lovegood whispered Lucy's name into the night with all of the love she contained. As August 28 gave way to August 29, she was painting Lucy's face onto her ceiling.

Arthur Weasley wrote each of his children a letter saying just how much he loved each and every one of them. As August 28 gave way to August 29, he was halfway through his letter to Percy.

Neville Longbottom researched magical plants other than dittany from different wizarding cultures around the world that had healing properties. As August 28 gave way to August 29, he was just finishing up the book Henry had gotten him for his birthday, already with a bookmark in it for a potential plant that would help Lucy.

Certain routines weren't truly routines, but rather responses to whatever each full moon demanded of Lucy, of those she loved, of those who loved her.

Ginny Weasley was the perfect example of adaptation, especially in the past 365 days. Lucy needed someone to button her shirt because her hands were shaking? She was there. Lucy needed someone to play Beater with her? She was there. Lucy needed an Animagus to keep her safe in the forest? She was there. Lucy needed someone to continue the twins' legacy with her? She was there. Lucy was going to the Department of Mysteries? She was there. No matter the phase of the moon, Ginny was there with Lucy. Except for when she couldn't be. When she couldn't be, she lay dormant, stony, silent, still. Waiting for Lucy's arrival, waiting for Lucy to soften her from stone into something more adaptable, more forgiving, something warmer. As August 28 gave way to August 29, Ginny was staring up at the ceiling, stony, silent, still, waiting for sunrise, for morning, for Lucy.

Ron Weasley was the perfect example of adaptation, and he had been since eleven years old when he found himself riding the Hogwarts Express with Harry Potter and Lucy Diggory. Adapting to Harry was as natural as breathing for him after five years, and adapting to Lucy was equally easy. He made sure to eat more than she did before full moons so she didn't have to be self-conscious about it, and he was always sure to bring a snack or two up with him to the common room so he could complain about being full and ask her if she wanted it. On the night of the full moon, he always kept his pocket watch close, to keep an eye on it, to remind himself that his friends needed him and valued him and wanted to include him. He was determined to prove to Lucy that the same was true for her. As August 28 gave way to August 29, Ron Weasley was looking over the Quidditch plans Lucy and Harry had already drawn up, because he knew that they were both always in the mood to talk about Quidditch no matter what the circumstances, and they'd both want to talk about something other than the full moon when Lucy returned.

Certain routines had been established for years, carefully crafted to be hidden from Lucy's observant nature.

Cedric Diggory always went to bed early the night of the full moon, collapsing face-first onto his pillow so his tears were hidden from everyone. He cried every month, without fail, so full of anxiety and grief that he could never dream of expressing his emotions any other way. No words could describe the oppressive weight he felt in his chest, the tension that always crept up his back and pulled the muscles of his neck and his shoulders tight, but tears, bitter and hot but refreshing in their own way, often allowed release that was followed by fitful sleep when he was aided by potions and followed by long contemplative trains of thought when he was not. His tears always dried by morning, replaced by a reassuring smile for his sister, no matter what. Only when she was safe in his hug did the weight begin to lift and the tension begin to ease. He always went to bed early the night after the full moon, too, just to take the time to breathe and take comfort in the fact that his sister was safe again, until the next, until there were no more nexts for him. As August 28 gave way to August 29, Cedric Diggory was in the stars.

Hermione Granger kept a book under her bed that she only read on full moons. She even brought it with her on prefect rounds, once those started in their fifth year. It was The Countess of Montgomery's Urania by Lady Mary Wroth. It had been a gift from her parents on her tenth birthday, because it was the first prose romance written by an English woman. She'd tried to read it when she was ten, really she had, but the book was dense and fantastical and she had struggled to keep track of so many difficult names. She hadn't known at the time that she'd soon be thrown into a world ruled by odd names and magic — the day she started packing for Hogwarts, at eleven years old, she pulled it off her bookshelf and tossed it into her bag. She pulled it out of the bottom of her trunk the night of the first full moon she knew Lucy's secret, and she had pulled it out for every full moon since. Trying to make sense of the story, the names, the magic always kept her mind occupied and prevented it from wandering too far, most of the time. As August 28 gave way to August 29, Hermione Granger was sitting up in bed, reading The Countess of Montgomery's Urania by Lady Mary Wroth by candlelight.

Certain routines were ever-changing, always trying to stay one step ahead of Lucy's detection.

Fred Weasley was the first one in the room with Lucy on August 28. He could tell there was something on her mind, a new pained wisdom in her blue eyes, so he did his best to chase the heaviness away for the night with a barrage of words. Encouraging, light-hearted, humorous, unexpected, and sincere words, to fill the silence, to distract her from his twin's absence. He always tried to be the one to fill the silence in the moments before and after full moons, for Lucy, for George, for anyone else who needed to hear something other than their own worried thoughts. He changed his routine with each moon, spending the night with different people, greeting Lucy different times of the morning so she never thought he was anxiously waiting even though he always was. She never knew that during the full moon, he could never find words to offer anyone, because during the full moon, his own emotions always overwhelmed him. That was part of why he was so glad he'd added his Animagus form to his routine, because hyenas couldn't speak and all he needed to do was run and play with Lucy and George, and he could do that, he was so good at that, Animagus or not. As August 28 gave way to August 29, Fred Weasley was darting back and forth in front of Lucy, trying to attract her attention so George could tap a message to Henry on the door with his paw.

Henry Furls was talking to George Weasley as Fred slipped into the room after Lucy on August 28. He wanted to stay overnight, so he could be there in the morning with Lucy and with George and with Fred, and he refused to take no for an answer. Even though he'd only known Lucy's secret for a fraction of the time the twins had, he had spent the couple of full moons he knew absolutely paralyzed by his fear and absolutely overwhelmed by his feelings of uselessness. He knew he couldn't help, not really, but he couldn't bear to be lying in bed in his flat just wondering if she was okay, not while he still had the option to be close to her. When she went to Hogwarts, he'd have to go back to lying awake, hoping she was alright, but that night, he wanted, needed to be close by, just in case. Her brother wasn't around to keep her safe, so he would, as much as he could. As August 28 gave way to August 29, Henry Furls was sitting in the hallway across from the room where he knew Lucy was, still shaken by the screams he'd heard but listening intently to the Morse code George was tapping against the door. Short long, short long short short, short long, short short. Short short, short short short. Short long long, short, short long short short, short long short short. A-L-L I-S W-E-L-L.

George Weasley was talking to Henry Furls as Fred slipped into the room after Lucy on August 28. He was trying to convince the other boy to just go home, go back to his family or to his flat, just for the night. Long enough that he wouldn't have to hear the screams. But he was never able to say no to Henry, so they made a deal that George would keep Henry posted throughout the night using the Morse code they'd been learning together, just in case. The uncertainty of war had affected everyone differently; Morse code was their back-up plan, should all other communication fail. They were teaching Lucy too, so she could send coded messages in and out of Hogwarts if needed. That night, though, Lucy wouldn't really be Lucy, and George wouldn't really be George. It wouldn't be safe for him to transform back into a human, and the doggy door was charmed to be one-way only for safety reasons, so Morse code would have to suffice for the night. As August 28 gave way to August 29, George Weasley was tapping Morse code against the door and waiting for Henry's response, which came as soon as he tapped the last letter. Short short short, long, short short, short long short short, short long short short. Short short short short, short, short long short, short. Short short long short, long long long, short long short. Long short long long, long long long, short short long. S-T-I-L-L H-E-R-E F-O-R Y-O-U.

And then there was the routine of Harry Potter, which seemed to gain a new element with each full moon, each designed to help Lucy as much as possible. First it was take Lucy to the Room of Requirement at night, greet her in the morning. Then the additional step of taking her to the Hospital Wing. Then the additional step of bringing her a jumper. Then the additional step of sleeping in the jumper. Then two jumpers. Then taking her to Hagrid's at night and greeting her there in the morning. The summer had been different, forcing him to be even more helpless than usual. He knew she was in good hands with the twins, but he felt so helpless just sitting by the diary all night, waiting for her morning message.

And then, it was August 28. Harry and Lucy had been dating for eleven days. All of a sudden, it wasn't just his best friend who was transforming from human to werewolf and back into human. It was his girlfriend.

He knew she was in good hands with the twins, but she was his girlfriend. As August 28 gave way to August 29, Harry Potter was lying on his back in the orchard, cursing the full moon, diary lying wide open and waiting right beside him.

🩵💛❤️💜🩷

HARRY:

I watched as each letter appeared on the diary page ten minutes after the sun had risen.

I'm okay. I'll be back soon. I love you.

I wrote my reply with a shaking hand.

I love you too, see you soon

I tucked the diary under my arm and crept into the house, making my way up the stairs without a sound and slipping into Ron's room. He was awake, looking at me with tired eyes.

"She's okay?" he asked.

I nodded. "She said she is."

"Good." With that, he pulled his pillow over his head and sank down into his mattress. "Would you mind waking me up when she's back?"

"Sure thing, mate," I replied.

He was asleep seconds later. I was truthfully quite exhausted, and I wanted to fall asleep too, but even more than that, I wanted, no, needed to see for myself that Lucy was okay. I slipped the diary under my pillow and made my way downstairs, to sit by the fireplace and wait. I was joined mere minutes later by none other than Mr. Weasley.

"Oh," he said, blinking in surprise once before offering me a sad half-smile, "good morning, Harry. Waiting for Lucy?"

I nodded. I knew that he knew. "She said she was alright. It's just..."

"Not the same as seeing for yourself?"

I nodded again.

Mr. Weasley lowered himself onto the sofa next to me, placing a stack of envelopes on the nearby table. "I understand, as does Molly. The clock has almost always provided something of a comfort, allowing us a bit of insight into the whereabouts of each member of our large family since it would be impossible to know what exactly we're all doing every moment of every day. These days, though... seeing for yourself that someone is alive and alright is the only remedy for worry, and even then, that's not always enough."

"I saw Lucy just hours after everything that happened in that Muggle pub, but it still wasn't — I wasn't there to protect her, and she was alive and alright but she was still hurt and scared, and it's — I don't even know what I'm trying to say," I finished with a sigh. "If Lucy were here, she'd say something poetic like 'The world is broken glass, and we all are going to cut our fingers picking up the pieces of it, but as long as we all do our best to heal each other along the way, we'll fix it one cut at a time.'"

"And I'd say in response that she was poetic, and correct." He fixed me with an amused look. "But since you, Harry, are the one who said it, you are poetic and correct. We're all just doing our best while looking forward to the day that we won't have these fears anymore."

"What if, though — what if our fears become reality before that day comes?" I dared to ask. Cedric. Sirius. My mum. My dad.

"Ah." Mr. Weasley weighed his words carefully in the several moments of silence that followed. "In times like those, I think there are two paths we can choose to take, in the first moments after our lives change. The first is to reach deep inside ourselves and find the strength we never before knew we had, because it's never before been needed. The second is to reach out to others, and find strength in the people we love and who love us. I think the second choice is often the better one, because the people we love and who love us can help us find our own strength and lend us their strength when ours fails."

I absorbed his words in silence, thinking it over.

"I know you've lost a lot, Harry," he continued quietly, "before you could even truly comprehend what was lost and why. I know you spent far too long believing your loss defined you, but I hope now that you see that love always finds a way even in the midst of unimaginable loss."

"Lucy," I said, without thinking about it, without any hesitation.

Mr. Weasley nodded. "Lucy is, unfortunately, quite a good example. It's not unfortunate that she is a good example, I mean, it's just unfortunate that she's had to become an example at all — "

"I understand," I interrupted with a smile and nod, inwardly relieved that he had interpreted my words that way. As an example of love finding a way in the midst of her loss, rather than as the love incarnate. "We all love her, and she loves all of us, and that's what ties us all together."

"Love, or Lucy?" he asked.

I smiled wider. "Both, I think."

Mr. Weasley returned my smile. "You know, I'd have to agree."

As if on cue, Lucy appeared through the fireplace, and I was in front of her in an instant, catching her in a hug. And just like that, nothing else mattered.

"Good morning, Lucy," Mr. Weasley said brightly. "I trust that your time with Fred and George was action-packed and interesting?"

"Good morning, Mr. Weasley," she replied, pulling away from me with a reluctant look in her watery eyes. "Action-packed and interesting as always, yes." She sniffled. "All three of us were, ah, in shambles this morning, since it's really coming to an end now."

Mr. Weasley shook his head. "Ah, now, none of that. The three of you share something that won't be easily broken. You will have more adventures soon. This is far from the end. I do hope, though, that, ah — there is a slight pause in adventures for the time being," he added, looking between Lucy and me. "You two really ought to focus on school and school-related activities this year. You've had enough adventures for now, I think." He rose to his feet and grabbed the stack of envelopes. "If you'll excuse me, I have a few letters to mail and a few others to hand-deliver." He gently patted my shoulder then Lucy's with his free hand, whispering a soft, sincere "I'm glad you're alright, Lucy" as he walked past.

"Thanks," she whispered back, face flushing just a bit. Once the door closed behind him, she looked up at me. "Miss me?"

"Sure, I'll kiss you," I whispered back with a teasing grin, leaning forward to do exactly that.

Lucy jumped away, face flaming bright red. "No, no, not yet, the twins are still coming with my trunk!" she hissed.

"Damn," I muttered as my own face heated. "I, er, yes, I did miss you, I was just trying to be funny — "

"You're always funny, whether you're trying to be or not, Potter," she teased, smiling.

"You seem more awake than usual this morning," I commented.

"Professor McGonagall stopped by this morning with wideye potion, while I was in the shower."

"Really?"

Lucy nodded. "One for me, one for George, one for Fred. The twins said she didn't stick around to see me because was going to visit Remus and Tonks next, she had one for each of them too." She fell silent then, a shadow flickering across her eyes.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

She opened her mouth, presumably to explain, but the Floo roared to life, and the population of the room doubled thanks to the arrival of the twins.

"We have one trunk delivery for a Miss Lucy Everlin 'Cub' Diggory," Fred announced, holding his hands out as if he were reading from a scroll. He looked at me and narrowed his eyes. "I expected Miss Lucy Everlin 'Cub' Diggory to be smaller, given the size of the clothes in this trunk. Child-sized, really. And then there was this stuffed bear — "

"Shut up!" Lucy squeaked, jumping on top of her trunk so she could firmly clasp her hand over Fred's mouth.

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh, really? This conversation is so not over, Lu, I will be investigating this claim later. Unfortunately, I am not Miss Lucy Everlin 'Cub' Diggory, but I do believe there is something of mine in that trunk. I loaned her one of my jumpers a few months back, and I haven't been able to find it since."

It was George's turn to raise his eyebrows, being the twin not being forcibly shut up by Lucy. "Oh, really?"

"I keep forgetting to give it back, I'm sorry!" Lucy whined. "Besides, you still have something of mine that you've had for a few years!"

"Really?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"Yes, really," she said with a pout. She removed her hand from Fred's mouth and sat on her trunk heavily, crossing her arms. "I've had a long 24 hours, stop teasing me. Coddle me."

"Your wish is our command!" Fred chirped.

George reached down and grabbed a handle of the trunk. "Would you like your trunk to be your chariot, my lady?"

Lucy laughed. "No, it's alright, it can stay down here. No point dragging it all the way to Ginny's room when we're leaving so soon for — school." Her voice cracked on the last word, her face falling instantly. "I know I've already said this to you several times today, but I'm going to miss you both so much." And with that, she dropped her head into her hands and sniffled, and the twins moved as one and dropped to their knees to envelop her in a hug. She removed her hands from her face instantly and pulled the boys — her boys — closer to her.

After a long, tight hug, with much sniffling going on, Fred pulled away, tears in his eyes, and beckoned to me with a wave of his hand.

"Get over here, Harry," Fred choked out, voice wobbling even as he tried to smile. "It's your turn, for now."

George extracted himself from Lucy's grip with a sniffle and a nod. "You two take care of each other, you hear?"

Lucy made a strangled sound and launched herself at me with so much force I nearly toppled over trying to catch her. I rubbed her back as I returned the hug in an attempt to comfort her, smiling and nodding at the twins. "Of course."

Fred cleared his throat. "We, er, added a couple of things to your trunk, Cub, just in case something comes up and you need a little mischievous assistance. Hopefully this year is free of any Pink Venomous Tentaculas, but, well, there's always something going on at Hogwarts, right? We're always just a letter away and we're always more than happy to break rules, if you really need our help, though, you know that."

Lucy nodded, still clinging to me.

"And Lucy," George added, a very Cedric-like look in his eyes, "don't kill yourself over N.E.W.T.s."

Fred nodded. "Yeah, just focus on winning the Quidditch Cup again, you adorable little co-captains."

Lucy turned her head just enough to glare at Fred for a second before burying her face against me again.

I chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll make sure she has her priorities straight. Winning the Quidditch Cup is obviously the most important feat we could hope to accomplish this year."

"Damn right," George agreed with a nod. "And Harry, for the love of Merlin, clean your glasses, and when you do, don't you dare break her heart, because then we'd have no choice but to ruin your life."

"What?" I asked, feigning confusion.

Lucy turned to glare at George too. "Clean yours."

"What?" George asked, his confusion genuine.

Lucy buried her face against me, refusing to answer.

Fred only laughed. "Have a good year at school, ickle firsties. Don't do anything we wouldn't do."

"That is hardly an acceptable parameter for how to behave," Lucy muttered, voice muffled.

"Do your best to abide by it anyway," George said.

The twins stepped forward and each laid a hand on Lucy's head. She tried to turn around, but the twins both shot looks at me, so I held tightly to Lucy so she couldn't chase them through the fireplace, because it was very clear that she wanted to. She strained against me, but after only a few seconds, she stopped resisting and just started crying.

Truthfully, I felt a bit selfishly hurt by her reaction to the twins leaving. It was stupid, I was fully aware of that. She'd only had such a good summer because I'd given the twins my Triwizard winnings and told them to make Lucy laugh again. They'd done all of that and more, and I was so so so so glad they'd done that. But, I mean, she was my girlfriend, and I was looking forward to school because of how much time we'd get to spend together, and I was a little confused and a little angry and a little hurt by how much she was mourning the end of her summer with the twins, even though I was fully aware of how ridiculous it was for me to be feeling that way.

"I feel like this summer has just been one good dream, and I don't want to wake up," Lucy explained in a whisper between sobs.

"Oh," I whispered back, all of my emotions suddenly replaced by sadness for the girl in my arms and a desperate need to make it right. "Oh, alright, I understand. No, Lucy, it was real, I promise it was real. We are. Er, well, of course we are, you are real and I am real, but I meant we, as in us, that is real. And everything with the twins is real, too, but, er, I can keep proving to you that we are real at school too, since, you know, we will both be there, and — are you laughing or crying?"

"Both, I think," she said as she pulled away, wiping her tears as she smiled. "You're so — " She popped up to her toes and kissed my cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too," I replied. I smirked. "You missed."

"Yes, I kissed." Lucy grinned impishly, quite proud of herself for using my previous wordplay trick against me. She blinked at me with false innocence. "What, do you want another?"

"Yes," I confessed, my smirk falling away as I bent down and cupped her face in my hands and desperately pressed my lips to hers. Suddenly, holding her face wasn't enough, so I wrapped my arms around her again and pulled my glasses off of my face so I could bury my face in the crook of her neck. "I'm so glad you're here, and you're okay."

"I'm looking forward to being able to spend so much time with you again," she said. We pulled away, and I slipped my glasses back onto my face so I could see her in perfect clarity, the way she deserved to be seen. She looked shy, sad, a little embarrassed, a little excited. Sweet, so sweet I just wanted to kiss her again, but I could tell she had more to say. "Sorry for being sad, it's just... a lot. Long night. I'm tired. And — a lot on my mind," she finished, the same shadow from earlier flickering across her eyes again.

"What is it?" I asked.

Lucy shook her head. "Not here. Not now. I still — I'm still trying to make sense of it in my head, so I can try to explain it to you. To all of you, really, you all deserve to know what Remus told me, it's just — a lot. Sorry."

"No need to apologize," I said, even though I felt a bit of despair surge in me, a familiar fear that surfaced every time I knew Lucy was holding something back. "You're okay, though, right? Nothing's — wrong? In a manner of speaking?"

"No, nothing's wrong. Just... werewolf things," she finished in a whisper, "and I've had enough of those for one day."

I nodded. "That's fair. I agree. Me too."

Lucy smiled at me, remaining silent.

We both jumped and backed away from each other when we heard the sounds of movement above us. We had both forgotten that we were in a house inhabited by several other people, none of whom knew we were together.

"We're still real," I whispered urgently, "I promise we are. We just, er, need to pretend that we aren't whenever we're not alone, which isn't fair, I know, but, er, we agreed, and — "

"It's alright, Harry, I remember," she whispered back, still smiling a bit. "I'm not that tired, don't worry. Let's just, er, play it cool."

"Cool. Right." I blinked, searching for a topic change. I snorted as one came to mind. "So why have I never heard about this stuffed bear once?"

Lucy flushed bright red. "I knew leaving her on top of the trunk was a mistake."

"Aw, it's a her?"

"Shut up, Potter."

"Make me." I felt my face grow hot as I realized what I said. "The same way, you, er, made Fred shut up, I mean. Not — well, there are other options, but I meant the way you, er, just put your hand over Fred's mouth, not — well, you're welcome to, er, kiss me to shut me up if you'd like, but I think the house is starting to wake up, so — "

"Oh, just shut up," Lucy said with an exasperated smile as she swiftly tugged me to her, kissed me, and shoved me onto the sofa before plopping down next to me.

Truthfully, I was too stunned to speak for a moment after that, just breathing with her in the silence as if I'd been running for a minute or two. But when I heard footsteps descending the stairs, I gathered myself.

"So, your stuffed bear is a female?" I asked loudly.

"Lucy's back!" Ginny cheered, bursting into the room and immediately taking a seat on Lucy's other side so she could throw her arms around her.

Yes, she is, I thought to myself, a silly, selfish, yet undeniable spark of excitement rushing through me. She's back, and she's here to stay for a long time.

🩵💛❤️💜🩷

The rest of summer passed slowly, sleepily, sweetly. Lucy was fairly awake and alert the first day after the full moon thanks to Professor McGonagall's wideye potion and we spent most of the day in the sky, but the next day, we had to wake her up for breakfast (two times), and for lunch (three times), and for dinner (four times). She just kept falling asleep everywhere. According to Ginny, when she was awoken for breakfast the first time, Lucy got out of her own bed and promptly toppled forward and fell asleep on Ginny's. Ginny found Lucy asleep on the floor of the girls' room when lunchtime rolled around and found it so funny that she insisted I come with her to wake Lucy up. Lucy was so sleepy and disoriented that she didn't hear a word we said about lunch and only got up long enough to flop down onto the nearest bed — Hermione's — and promptly fall back asleep. When we woke her up once again, saying that lunch was nearly ready so she needed to head down with us, she nodded her agreement and got to her feet, only to notice that one of her shoes was untied and fall back asleep after crouching down to retie it. After that, Ginny and I agreed that we had to try to keep her awake until dinner solely so that we didn't have to try to wake her up again, but we failed miserably. As soon as she had eaten, Lucy excused herself and promptly disappeared. We found her in Ron's room on the top floor of the house, curled in a ball, sound asleep, on my bed. The four of us kids collectively agreed to let her sleep until dinner, because she really did look too peaceful to be disturbed — we were correct, disturbing her was very difficult. We each had to take a turn waking her up and practically dragging her down the stairs to dinner.

"Are you alright, Lucy?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "You seem a little under the weather today."

I stiffened. Uh oh.

Lucy managed a sleepy smile and nod. "I'm alright. It's just..." Her face fell as she sighed. "I worry for Remus every time the full moon comes around. It's always difficult to sleep, knowing what he's going through. I think my sleepless night just caught up to me today, especially after spending a couple of days with the twins."

Mrs. Weasley looked at Lucy with pitying eyes. "Oh, sweet girl, it's okay. Remus takes wolfsbane potion, remember? He's not a danger. You needn't worry."

I stiffened even more. Oh no.

"Yeah," Lucy replied almost inaudibly, looking down at her plate and nodding. "You're right, Mrs. Weasley, I just can't help but worry sometimes."

"We all worry about him, Mum," Ron piped up with a sad half-smile. "He means a lot to us, after all. I think Lucy just worries the most, because she was always Professor Lupin's favorite."

Lucy groaned as she looked up at him, though she did look grateful for the way he'd expertly shifted the attention away from how tired she was. "He didn't have favorites, and even if he did, it was definitely Harry."

"Alright, alright, that's fair," Ron said. "But he was your favorite professor, no?"

"I can't choose favorites, that's not fair," Lucy protested. "Least favorites, though, I think we can all agree on Snape and..."

A collective sigh rippled over the table, and Hermione launched into a speech about all of the faults of our past DADA professors from Quirrell to Umbridge in order, excluding Remus, of course. Once she was done verbally shredding Umbridge, she praised every quality of Professor Remus Lupin, making a point of talking at length about how gentle and caring and wise he was and stating explicitly that she didn't think any less of him for being a werewolf.

"If anything, I think more of him for it," Hermione declared. "I mean, if you think about it, he has every reason to be angry and bitter and to resent the world. It's been unbelievably cruel to him, but he chooses to be unbelievably kind right back. I think most people are kind to the world when the world is kind, and cruel to the world when the world is cruel, but werewolves are asked to always be kind simply because everyone else chooses to live in ignorance and fear. It's not fair, and their resentment of the world would be understandable and deserved, but I think the werewolves who continually choose kindness even though they have every reason to be cruel are better people than even the very best of us."

I glanced out of the corner of my eye at Lucy, just to make sure she wasn't giving herself away with a telltale blush. Thankfully, she wasn't — she was looking at Hermione with wide eyes.

"I agree," Ron said emphatically, with an approving nod Hermione's direction. "Speaking of, Hermione, what do you hope is included in the DADA curriculum this year?"

After a quick but meaningful look at Lucy, Hermione continued to prattle so the rest of us didn't have to try to fill the silence.

"She's right, you know," I whispered in a voice only Lucy could hear.

Then, and only then, did she blush. To no one's surprise, Lucy slipped off to bed nearly as soon as dinner was over, but not before giving Hermione a hug so tight she massaged her ribs once Lucy started to climb the stairs.

The day after that, I tried to be a properly doting and devoted secret boyfriend and bring Lucy a cup of coffee once Ginny coaxed her downstairs.

"Thanks, Harry," she mumbled sleepily, taking the coffee out of my hands and lifting it to her lips. Her eyes widened in horror, and she swallowed with a great deal of effort.

"Sorry, is it too hot?" I asked with a grimace.

"No, it's alright. It's perfect, thank you."

"Lucy, I know you're lying."

Lucy looked me dead in the eyes and gulped down three more sips, with even more effort than before. "Nope. It's perfect. You're the best. Thank you. This will help."

I didn't believe her, but I didn't press her, either. I'd just have to be a little bit of a menace and keep bringing her slightly different variations of coffee until she either told me what was wrong with it or she didn't look horrified when she had a sip.

The morning we left for Hogwarts, I didn't have time to make her coffee, but she didn't really need it, either, considering most of the day would be spent on the train. She was free to sleep as much as she needed, once we got on the train. But first, there was something we needed to do.

We kept trading apprehensive looks throughout the morning, over breakfast, in the Ministry-provided cars, as Aurors ushered the two of us through the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10. It was decided that we'd all feel better if the Aurors hovered near both of us — except for Lucy, of course, who insisted she was fine and wasn't worth the fuss. As much as Lucy hated it, though, I was selfishly glad that it was the two of us, instead of just me. When I confessed that to her in a whisper I knew only she would be able to hear, she nodded and brushed the back of her hand against mine in a subtle gesture of Me too. So, together, we approached Mr. Weasley.

"Mr. Weasley, can we have a quick word?" I asked, because it had been my idea in the first place.

"Of course," he said without hesitation.

Once we were out of earshot of the others, I started to try to explain. "When we were in Diagon Alley — "

"Am I about to discover where you, Ron, and Hermione disappeared to while you were supposed to be in the back room of Fred and George's shop?" he interrupted.

Lucy tried to cover her laugh with her hand, but she laughed faster than her hand could move.

I blinked. "How did you — "

"Harry, please. You're talking to the man who raised Fred and George."

Lucy laughed harder, fighting to stifle her laughter with her hand so she didn't attract attention to the three of us.

"Er... yeah, alright, we weren't in the back room."

Mr. Weasley clicked his tongue, but made no other outward signs of disapproval. "Very well, then, let's hear the worst."

"Well, we followed Draco Malfoy. We used my invisibility cloak."

"Did you have any particular reason for doing so, or was it a mere whim?"

"Because I thought Malfoy was up to something. He'd given his mother the slip and I wanted to know why."

"Of course you did. Well? Did you find out why?"

"He went into Borgin and Burke's and started bullying the bloke in there, Borgin, to help him fix something. And he said he wanted Borgin to keep something else for him. He made it sound like it was the same kind of thing that needed fixing. Like they were a pair. And... well, there's something else. We saw Malfoy jump about a mile when Madam Malkin tried to touch his left arm. I think he's been branded with the Dark Mark. I think he's replaced his father as a Death Eater."

Mr. Weasley blinked. "Harry, I doubt whether You-Know-Who would allow a sixteen-year-old — "

"I know, Mr. Weasley," Lucy interrupted, "but, well, Dumbledore has his suspicions. That's why I was in that Muggle pub, to see if it was a possibility. I really should have told Dumbledore all of this at the time, or after the fact, but since I forgot in the heat of the moment — well, we were hoping you'd believe us. Dumbledore thinks that since I didn't see the Dark Mark for myself, all that I did was for nothing, but — but between what they saw and what I saw — please believe us, please look into it if you or anyone else in the Order can. Going to school with a Death Eater, even if it's just Draco Malfoy, would be..."

"I understand," Mr. Weasley said slowly, looking back and forth between the two of us.

"And about Borgin and Burke's, if Malfoy wants something fixing, and he needs to threaten Borgin to get it done, it's probably something Dark or dangerous, isn't it?" I asked.

"I doubt it, to be honest, Harry. You see, when Lucius Malfoy was arrested, we raided his house. We took away everything that might have been dangerous."

Before I could protest further, the train whistle blew, and Lucy and I had to rush onto the train as the doors were closing, a mess of limbs and trunks as we tried to help each other out. Mrs. Weasley rushed forward to call to us through the window.

"You're coming to us for Christmas, it's all fixed with Dumbledore, so we'll see you both quite soon! You make sure you look after yourselves and be good and stay safe!"

We waved at her and Mr. Weasley until they disappeared from sight.

"That went well," Lucy commented.

"For you, maybe," I replied. "I swear Malfoy's up to something, maybe the Ministry missed something in their house — "

"I know. Let's just hope he didn't bring whatever it is to school, alright? We did what we could."

I nodded sullenly. "Right. C'mon, let's find a compartment so you can sleep."

"Yes please," Lucy whispered.

Together, we made our way down the corridor in the direction of Ginny, both trying to ignore the many stares of the people around us. We'd both known it was coming, after everything in the Daily Prophet featuring both of us, but I could tell from the slump of Lucy's shoulders that she wasn't enjoying it any more than I was.

"Fancy trying to find a compartment?" I asked Ginny once we reached her.

Ginny shook her head. "Sorry, co-captains, but I said I'd meet Dean. See you later, though!"

"It's alright, you can come with us!" a voice piped up behind us.

"Hi, Neville!" Lucy said brightly. "Hi, Luna! You're still looking for a compartment too?"

"Yes," Luna replied, holding a copy of The Quibbler very tightly to her. "It's rather loud and bright and crowded here in the middle, wouldn't you say?"

Lucy nodded. "Definitely. Lead the way, Harry, we're right behind you."

And so we proceeded down the corridor, students staring at us every step of the way. Finally, though, we found an empty compartment and filed inside. Lucy slammed the door with a violent sigh.

"They were even staring at us, because we're with you!" Neville said, glancing at Luna with wonder.

"They're staring at you," I grunted as Lucy and I helped each other hoist our trunks onto the luggage rack, "because you were at the Ministry too. Our little adventure there was all over the Daily Prophet, you must've seen it."

Neville nodded. "Yes, I thought Gran would be angry about all the publicity, but she was really pleased. Says I'm starting to live up to my dad at long last. She bought me a new wand, look!" Lucy opened her mouth to say something, but she merely smiled as Neville showed off his new wand. "Cherry and unicorn hair. We think it was one of the last Ollivander ever sold, he vanished next day — oi, come back here, Trevor!"

Lucy dropped to her knees to help Neville catch his toad, so I lowered myself onto a seat across from Luna and watched with fond amusement as my girlfriend, my secret girlfriend, my wonderfully caring secret girlfriend, snagged Trevor and passed him back to Neville.

"Are we still doing D.A. meetings this year?" Luna asked, jerking me from my thoughts.

"No point since we've gotten rid of Umbridge, is there?" I replied.

Neville frowned as he sat down next to Luna and Lucy sat down next to me. "I liked the D.A.! I learned loads with you two!"

"I enjoyed the meetings as well. It was like having friends," Luna commented.

"We are your friends, Luna," Lucy said with a smile, earning a smile from Luna in return. Her smile gave way to a yawn, though, so I playfully shoved Lucy's shoulder.

"Sleep, Lu," I said. "It's alright. You look like you still need it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, her indignance somewhat muted by the fact that she was yawning again as she tried to speak.

"Er — it just means that you're yawning," I stammered. "Which I can see. With my eyes. Meaning you look like — "

Lucy hummed as she kicked off her shoes and curled up in a ball on the seat, pressing her stockinged feet against my thigh for a moment. "I was teasing, Harry. Don't worry. Good night."

And with that, Lucy pulled the hood of her jacket over her head and closed her eyes.

"Should we put up a silencing spell?" Neville whispered.

"It's alright," Lucy said, but I poked her shin.

"We will. Sleep, Lu."

"Wake me if there's trouble?" she mumbled, clearly only seconds away from falling asleep.

"Alright."

I tugged my wand out of my pocket and put up a silencing spell, and just in time, too. The door to the compartment opened then, and a group of girls walked in, led by a determined-looking leader.

"Hi, Harry, I'm Romilda, Romilda Vane. Why don't you join us in our compartment? You don't have to sit with — er — them."

Romilda's dark eyes swept the room. Luna was wearing psychedelic glasses that she had plucked out of The Quibbler, Neville had lost Trevor again and was on his hands and knees reaching under the seat, and Lucy was sound asleep on the seat beside me.

I clenched my jaw and met her gaze. "They're friends of mine."

She blinked, looking quite stunned. "Oh. Oh. Okay."

They left after that.

"People expect you to have cooler friends than us," Luna remarked.

"You are cool. None of them were at the Ministry. They didn't fight with me."

Luna beamed. "That's a very nice thing to say."

"We didn't face him, though, you did," Neville said as he returned to his seat. "You should hear my gran talk about you. 'That Harry Potter's got more backbone than the whole Ministry of Magic put together!' She'd give anything to have you as a grandson."

I shook my head. "She shouldn't feel that way. You're more than good enough, Neville."

He sighed. "I'm afraid I'm not."

Neville went on to tell me each of his O.W.L. grades, looking dejected, but I couldn't really listen to him, knowing how close he had come to having my fate — how similar our fates were, really, even though the prophecy applied to me rather than him. His parents were still alive, but he was still raised by a relative who didn't really see him as much. I was glad, really glad, that she'd finally started to see Neville's value after the Ministry, but he could have died there. Why did he have to push himself so far to be worthy of her respect?

Why did any of us have to push ourselves so far just to be seen, understood, heard, valued, loved?

"You alright, Harry?" Neville asked suddenly. "You look funny."

I blinked. "Sorry, I — "

"Wrackspurt got you?" Luna inquired.

"I — what?"

"A Wrackspurt. They're invisible," Luna explained. "They float in through your ears and make your brain go fuzzy. I thought I felt one zooming around in here."

"It's alright, I... don't think it's that," I said.

Neville glanced down at Lucy, whispering, "Is she alright? The moon was a few days ago, wasn't it?"

"She's alright, she's just been particularly sleepy this time around," I replied with a shrug. "She's not hurt or anything, don't worry."

"That's good." Neville nodded. "I don't know what I'd do if something bad happened to her. Something worse, I mean — something she couldn't come back from."

"I don't know what I'd do either," I admitted quietly, fear making my throat tight. I swallowed hard and tried to smile at Neville. "Did you hear that we're co-captains for Quidditch this year?"

Neville's eyebrows shot up. "No, I hadn't heard! I've been writing Henry a lot, though, and he was telling me all about playing for the Magpies."

The two of us were still talking about Quidditch when Ron and Hermione returned from the prefect meeting.

"There's a silencing spell up, right?" Hermione whispered, looking at Lucy.

"Yeah, don't worry, she's sound asleep," I replied.

Ron sat down beside me heavily. "Good. I wish the lunch trolley would hurry up, I'm starving. Hi, Neville. Hi, Luna. Guess what, Harry? Malfoy's not doing prefect duty. He's just sitting in his compartment with the other Slytherins, we saw him when we passed."

"What did he do when he saw you?" I asked, curiosity piqued. Malfoy never passed up on an opportunity to abuse his prefect power.

"Oh, you know, the usual." Ron lifted his hand to demonstrate, and I snorted. "Not like him, though, is it? Well, flipping us off is absolutely like him, but why isn't he out bullying first years?"

Maybe because he has more important things to do. Death Eater things. "I don't know," I said aloud.

Hermione shrugged as she sat down next to Neville. "Maybe he preferred the Inquisitorial Squad. Maybe being a prefect seems a bit tame after that."

I started to protest, but before I could fully express my idea, another girl burst into our compartment with two scrolls tied with purple ribbon.

"I'm supposed to deliver these to Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter," she stammered, handing one to each of us before practically running out of the compartment.

"What is it?" Ron asked.

I held it out to show him.

Harry,
   I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C.
   Sincerely, Professor H. E. F. Slughorn

Neville grimaced. "But what does he want me for?"

"No idea. Hey, let's go under the invisibility cloak, then we might get a good look at Malfoy on the way, see what he's up to."

"The corridor's too crowded, Harry," Hermione said. "Trust me, that wouldn't go well."

I sighed. "Alright." I rose to my feet and looked at Lucy. "Make sure she eats something, yeah?"

"Of course, mate," Ron replied. "Have fun with... whatever that is."

When Neville and I reached compartment C, we found that we weren't the only people who had been invited, because the compartment was nearly full.

"Harry, m'boy! Good to see you, good to see you!" Slughorn declared. "And you must be Mr. Longbottom!"

We both nodded as we snagged the last two remaining seats beside each other and looked around at the other students with us.

Slughorn gestured around the table. "Now, do you know everyone? Blaise Zabini is in your year, of course, and this is Cormac McLaggen, perhaps you've come across each other. And this is Marcus Belby, and this charming young lady tells me she knows you!"

Ginny Weasley cringed subtly. "Hi, Harry. Hi, Neville."

"Well now, this is most pleasant! A chance to get to know you all a little better." Slughorn smiled widely. "Here, take a napkin. I've packed my own lunch; the trolley, as I remember it, is heavy on licorice wands, and a poor old man's digestive system isn't quite up to such things. Anyway, I was just telling young Marcus here that I had the pleasure of teaching his Uncle Damocles. Outstanding wizard, outstanding, and his Order of Merlin most well-deserved. Do you see much of your uncle, Marcus?"

Startled, Marcus began to choke on the bite he had just taken, but Slughorn cleared the blockage with a calm "Anapneo." I couldn't help but wonder if that was a common occurrence at his spontaneous lunch meetings.

"Not... not much of him, no," poor Marcus Belby managed.

"Well, of course, I daresay he's busy. I doubt he invented the Wolfsbane Potion without considerable hard work!"

Neville and I both stiffened, and a quick glance at Ginny confirmed she had done the same.

Marcus nodded. "I suppose. Er — he and my dad don't get on very well, you see, so I don't really know much about..."

Slughorn turned to Cormac McLaggen. "Now, you, Cormac, I happen to know you see a lot of your Uncle Tiberius, because he has a rather splendid picture of the two of you hunting nogtails in, I think, Norfolk?"

"Oh, yeah, that was fun! We went with Bertie Higgs and Rufus Scrimgeour," Cormac said proudly. "This was before he became Minister, obviously."

It was exactly as I had suspected. Everyone there had powerful connections, except for Ginny. One by one, Slughorn asked each person about their most well-known family members.

After he was through with Neville, appearing neither impressed nor displeased with him, he turned to me.

"And now Harry Potter! Where to begin? I feel I barely scratched the surface when we met over the summer! 'The Chosen One,' they're calling you now! Of course, there have been rumors for years. I remember when... well — after that terrible night — Lily — James — and you survived — and the word was that you must have powers beyond the ordinary."

Blaise Zabini coughed then, and Ginny glared at him.

"Yeah, Zabini, because you're so talented," she retorted with a sarcastic roll of her eyes. "At posing."

Slughorn merely laughed, looking fondly at Ginny. "Oh dear! You want to be careful, Blaise! I saw this young lady perform the most marvelous Bat-Bogey Hex as I was passing her carriage! I wouldn't cross her!" I fought quite hard to keep my face neutral when Slughorn turned back to me, making a mental note to make fun of Ginny for that later. "Anyway, such rumors this summer. Of course, one doesn't know what to believe, the Prophet has been known to print inaccuracies, make mistakes — but there seems little doubt, given the number of witnesses, that there was quite a disturbance at the Ministry and that you were there in the thick of it all!"

Unsure of what to say, I merely nodded at first. "I had friends with me as well," I managed. "Couldn't have done it without their help."

"So modest, so modest, no wonder Dumbledore is so fond — you were there, then? But the rest of the stories — so sensational, of course, one doesn't know quite what to believe — this fabled prophecy, for instance!"

"We never heard a prophecy," Neville said, flushing as he said so.

Ginny nodded. "That's right. Neville and I were both there too, and all this 'Chosen One' rubbish is just the Prophet making things up as usual."

"You were both there too, were you? Fascinating! Yes, well, it is true that the Prophet often exaggerates, of course. I remember dear Gwenog telling me — Gwenog Jones, I mean, of course, Captain of the Holyhead Harpies..."

And on and on and on and on and on the afternoon dragged. He didn't stop talking about Slug Club members of days gone by until Slughorn noticed the sunset through the windows.

"Good gracious, it's getting dark already! I didn't notice that they'd lit the lamps! You'd better go and change into your robes, all of you. McLaggen, you must drop by and borrow that book on nogtails. Harry, Blaise — any time you're passing. Same goes for you, miss. Well, off you go, off you go!"

Ginny, Neville, and I all grouped together on the way out the door, following Blaise Zabini.

Neville sighed. "I'm glad that's over. Strange man, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he is, a bit. How come you ended up in there, Ginny?" I asked.

"He saw me hex Zacharias Smith. You remember that idiot from Hufflepuff who was in the D.A.? He kept asking about what happened at the Ministry and in the end he annoyed me so much I hexed him — when Slughorn came in I thought I was going to get detention, but he just thought it was a really good hex and invited me to lunch! Mad, eh?"

"That's a better reason for inviting someone than because their mother's famous," I muttered, glaring at the back of Zabini's head and forgetting that I was supposed to be teasing her for the Bat-Bogey Hex. Suddenly, an idea came to mind, something that would allow me to try to confirm my suspicions of Malfoy for myself. I pulled my invisibility cloak out and tossed it over my head. "I'll see you two in a bit."

"But what are you doing?" Neville asked.

"Later," I hissed, taking off after Zabini and trying to slip into the compartment. It didn't quite work, though, so I shoved my foot into the doorway to keep it open.

Zabini slammed it against my foot several times, trying to close it. "What's wrong with this thing?"

I shoved the door open as hard as I could, which successfully knocked him off balance and into Goyle's lap. From there, I managed to scramble up onto the luggage rack. For a second, I was worried that Malfoy had seen my foot poke out of the bottom of the invisibility cloak, but he didn't say anything as the pandemonium in the compartment quieted down, so I let myself exhale a silent sigh of relief and settled in as best I could to eavesdrop. Malfoy, Zabini, Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson were the inhabitants of the compartment.

Malfoy. "So, Zabini, what did Slughorn want?"

Zabini. "Just trying to make up to well-connected people. Not that he managed to find many."

Malfoy. "Who else had he invited?"

Zabini. "McLaggen from Gryffindor."

Malfoy. "Oh yeah, his uncle's big in the Ministry."

Zabini. "Someone else called Belby, from Ravenclaw."

Parkinson. "Not him, he's a prat!"

Zabini. "And Longbottom, Potter, and that Weasley girl."

Malfoy. "Slughorn invited Longbottom?"

Zabini. "Well, I assume so, since Longbottom was there."

Malfoy. "What's Longbottom got to interest Slughorn?"

Zabini. "I don't know."

Malfoy. "Potter, precious Potter, obviously he wanted a look at 'the Chosen One,' but that Weasley girl! What's so special about her?"

Parkinson. "A lot of boys like her. Even you think she's good-looking, don't you, Blaise? And we all know how hard you are to please!"

Zabini. "I wouldn't touch a filthy little blood traitor like her whatever she looked like."

Malfoy. "Well, I pity Slughorn's taste. Maybe he's going a bit senile. Shame, my father always said he was a good wizard in his day. My father used to be a bit of a favorite of his. Slughorn probably hasn't heard I'm on the train, or — "

Zabini. "I wouldn't bank on an invitation. He asked me about Nott's father when I first arrived. They used to be old friends, apparently, but when he heard he'd been caught at the Ministry he didn't look happy, and Nott didn't get an invitation, did he? I don't think Slughorn's interested in Death Eaters."

Malfoy. "Well, who cares what he's interested in? What is he, when you come down to it? Just some stupid teacher. I mean, I might not even be at Hogwarts next year, what's it matter to me if some fat old has-been likes me or not?"

Parkinson. "What do you mean, you might not be at Hogwarts next year?"

Malfoy. "Well, you never know. I might have — er — moved on to bigger and better things."

I couldn't help but feel justified. Ron and Hermione couldn't laugh that comment off.

Parkinson. "Do you mean... him?"

Malfoy. "Mother wants me to complete my education, but personally, I don't see it as that important these days. I mean, think about it. When the Dark Lord takes over, is he going to care how many O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s anyone's got? Of course he isn't. It'll be all about the kind of service he received, the level of devotion he was shown."

Zabini. "And you think you'll be able to do something for him? Sixteen years old and not even fully qualified yet?"

Malfoy. "I've just said, haven't I? Maybe he doesn't care if I'm qualified. Maybe the job he wants me to do isn't something that you need to be qualified for. Anyway, I can see Hogwarts. We'd better get our robes on."

I was so focused on Malfoy that I didn't even realize Goyle was reaching for his trunk until it hit me soundly on the head, and I couldn't manage to muffle the quiet gasp of pain that escaped me.

Malfoy squinted up at where I was hiding, but after a long moment, he changed into his robes like the others. I hoped my friends would take my trunk to the platform for me, since I was stuck where I was until everyone in the compartment was gone. I reached for my wand just in case, though.

Once the train stopped, Malfoy stayed behind, shut the blinds, and bent over his trunk. I waited expectantly, hoping I'd get to see something incriminating, but instead, Malfoy pointed his wand directly at my hiding place.

"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!"

Before I could react, I toppled to the ground, landing at Malfoy's feet with the invisibility cloak trapped uselessly beneath me.

"I thought so. I heard Goyle's trunk hit you. And I thought I saw something flash through the air after Zabini came back. You didn't hear anything I care about, Potter. But while I've got you here..."

He stomped on my nose, and it broke with a resounding crack.

"That's from my father. Now, let's see..." He reached beneath me and grabbed the invisibility cloak, tossing it over me. "I don't reckon they'll find you till the train's back in London. See you around, Potter. Or not."

He made sure to step on me on the way out.

Well. This isn't good.

Nobody would look for me. Everyone would assume I'd gotten off the train on my own, and they wouldn't notice I was gone until I wasn't at the Gryffindor table. By then, I'd be long gone. And even if they did look, I was under the invisibility cloak.

If I had been able to move, I would have sighed heavily. Maybe even cried, eventually.

Instead, I just lay there paralyzed as blood from my nose gushed all over my face, and accepted that I would have to do that all the way back to London.

But then, a loud voice. "No, I know he wouldn't have gotten off on his own. Neville, which way did he go?"

Lucy. Thank Merlin.

"Thanks!" Determined footsteps, marching closer and closer to me. "Out of my way, Malfoy."

"Knock your head on Wednesday, Scars? The exit is behind you. That way."

"I'm not stupid, Draco, I can see that only one compartment has the blinds down and I intend to find out why. Now get out of my way before I knock your head against the wall."

"Why do you want to go down that way so bad? Off to do something naughty with your 'Chosen One' boyfriend?"

"Harry, my boyfriend? Please. I went to the Yule Ball with George Weasley, remember? Get. Out. Of. My. Way."

"Make me."

"Fine."

The sound of a punch being thrown. A grunt of pain. A crash. A curse.

Malfoy. "Brachiabindo!"

"Oh, bloody hell," Lucy grunted. "That's a new one. Who taught you this?"

"Keep your mouth shut, Mudblood. Langlock!"

A loud crash. The sounds of a struggle. A long, difficult struggle. I wanted so desperately to get up, to help Lucy, but I quite literally couldn't. I was immobilized.

Finally, footsteps. Determined footsteps.

The blinds shot up, and it was Lucy who opened the door.

"I really hope you're actually in here," she muttered, dragging a sleeve across her bloodied face. "Accio invisibility cloak."

It shot into her hands, and her eyes widened when she saw me. "Bloody hell, what did he do to you? Finite incantatem."

"What did he do to you?" I asked as I shot up to a sitting position to study her face. "Are you okay? Where is he now?"

"It's alright, I — er — tossed him off the train. We'd better hurry, though."

As we jogged down the corridor, the train began to move. We jogged faster, and jumped off the train with flying leaps, sprawling on the concrete platform beside each other. After a moment, we began to laugh.

"This year's off to a bloody brilliant start," Lucy remarked sarcastically as I hauled her to her feet.

"Emphasis on the bloody."

Ginny appeared rather suddenly and grabbed us by the wrists. "Come on, come on, hurry up! Honestly, you two, you just about scared us to death, launching yourselves off the train like a couple of morons — "

Lucy and I exchanged amused looks as we let Ginny drag us all the way to the carriages. Once we were inside, Lucy demanded the full story, which I shared as Ginny fixed up our faces.

"What exactly happened between you talking to Neville and you finding me?" I asked. "What spell did he use on you? I've never heard it before."

"I have no idea, but it wasn't fun," she muttered. "It was invisible ropes or something. I punched him and tried to run down to you, then he tripped me, then he managed to bind me while I was down on the ground. He thought shutting me up would be enough to prevent me from doing magic and being tied up would be enough to prevent from from fighting him more, but I managed to get to my knees and knock him over. We, er, fought for a bit, Muggle style. I headbutted him. I hope I broke his nose. Anyway, I stole his wand and hit him with a Body Bind before freeing myself. I shoved it back into his pocket and tossed him off the train, right into Crabbe and Goyle and Pansy Parkinson. It was like — er — that Muggle game with the pins... bowling!"

Ginny and I both laughed at that, and Lucy looked quite proud of herself for a moment before sighing.

"Well, that was thrilling and all, but I don't like the sound of what you overheard, Harry." She glanced out the window at the castle. "This year should be an interesting one, if this is our first night."

Our first night, though, was far from over. The Sorting was uneventful, as was the welcome feast, but then Dumbledore got up to speak.

"The very best of evenings to you!" Dumbledore said, lifting his hands — one normal, one distinctly not — in greeting. The Great Hall erupted in horrified whispers, but he waved this off. "Nothing to worry about. Now, to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you! Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to say that there is a blanket ban on any joke items bought at the shop called Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

"That's what he thinks," Lucy and Ginny murmured in unison, grinning at each other before exchanging an unseen but not at all unheard high five under the table. Ron disguised his laugh as a cough, but I smiled at Lucy without reservation.

"Those wishing to play for their House Quidditch teams should give their names to their Heads of House as usual," Dumbledore went on. "We are also looking for new Quidditch commentators, who should do likewise. We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year, Professor Slughorn is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master. Professor Snape, meanwhile, will be taking the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

The smile disappeared from my face in an instant. "No!"

A lot of people turned to stare at me — my outburst hadn't been quiet, by any means — but I didn't care.

"But Harry, you said that Slughorn was going to be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts!" Hermione hissed.

"I thought he was!" I hissed back. "Bloody hell. Well, there's one good thing: Snape'll be gone by the end of the year."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

"That job's jinxed. No ones lasted more than a year. Quirrell actually died doing it. Personally, I'm going to keep my fingers crossed for another death."

"Harry!" Hermione scolded.

Lucy merely hid her face, and therefore her reaction, behind her goblet.

Ron shrugged. "He might just go back to teaching Potions at the end of the year. That Slughorn bloke might not want to stay long-term. Moody didn't."

Dumbledore waited until the Great Hall was silent again before continuing. "Now, as everybody in this Hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength. I cannot emphasize strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is, and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take to ensure that we remain safe. The castle's magical fortifications have been strengthened over the summer, we are protected in new and more powerful ways, but we must still guard scrupulously against carelessness on the part of any student or member of staff. I urge you, therefore, to abide by any security restrictions that you teachers might impose upon you, however irksome you might find them — in particular, the rule that you are not to be out of after hours. I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle, to report it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves, always, with the utmost regard for your own and others' safety." With that, he smiled. "But now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well-rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say good night. Pip pip!"

Ron and Hermione hurried to the front of the crowd to lead the first-years up to the common room and Ginny hurried to join Dean, but Lucy and I lagged behind.

"Oh, the twins are going to lose it when they hear that Snape is DADA professor. I'm so glad they supplied me as well as they did. Here I was thinking I wouldn't have a good target — oh, I know the DADA office well, better than the dungeons, Snape isn't going to know what hit him."

I couldn't help but smile at Lucy, which earned me a disgruntled look in response. "Don't look at me like that. I'm still angry with you for what happened on the train."

I blinked. "What? Why?"

"You did something stupid without me."

"You were asleep, and I needed to slip in right behind Zabini — "

"You said you'd wake me if trouble happened, but... I know you had to just make a split-second decision and follow him," she muttered. "I'm proud of you, too. I'm both."

"You can feel two contradicting emotions at once?" I asked.

Lucy's disgruntled look gave way to a resigned smile. "Oh, Harry." She sighed, then brightened considerably when she glanced away from me. "Oh, hi Hagrid! Why were you late to dinner? Everything alright?"

"I was with Grawp! Los' track o' the time. Everything's alrigh', don' fret! He's got a new home up in the mountains now, Dumbledore fixed it — nice big cave. He's much happier than he was in the forest. We were havin' a good chat."

"That's great! Teaching him English has gone well?" Lucy asked.

"Yeh'll be amazed. I'm thinkin' o' trainin' him up as me assistant. Anyway, I'll see yeh tomorrow, firs' lesson's straight after lunch. Come early an' yeh can say hello ter Buck — I mean, Witherwings!"

"See you then, Hagrid!" Lucy called with a sunny smile and cheerful wave. She turned to me, and the expression vanished instantly. "Oh no. You're not taking it, are you?"

I shook my head.

"Are Ron and Hermione?"

I shook my head again. "I — don't think so."

Lucy bit her lip. "Oh." She schooled her expression into a sad smile. "That's alright. I'm sure he'll understand."

"I hope so," I replied.

The two of us followed the rest of the Gryffindors up to the common room in silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. We were just lost in our own thoughts.

"I'm going to go to bed early tonight," she said softly once we reached the common room, "but tomorrow night, can we — er — maybe discuss Quidditch plans together? Or — something like that? In the Room of Requirement maybe?"

I nodded. "Sounds great." I wanted so desperately to kiss her good night, but there were too many people around. "Sleep well, Lu."

"Good night, Harry," she replied, joining the throng of girls climbing the stairs. I watched her go with a pulse of warmth in my chest. Even when she was angry with me, it was just because she wanted to be with me, and she was proud of me, too.

I realized I was also feeling two opposite emotions: regret for making her cross in the first place, yet pride in her pride.

What a pair we were.

I smiled to myself, then turned and climbed the stairs to my own dormitory for the night, looking forward to the day that the war was over and we didn't need to be a secret anymore and we could go together to the same room for the night.

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A/N: Hi, everyone! I want to talk a bit about the Marauders. There's been a good deal of discourse happening lately about how the fandom has been more interested in introducing new generations of Potter men rather than celebrating the awesome Marauders women that already exist and deserve to be explored in as much depth as the men have been. As you saw at the beginning of this chapter, I name-dropped quite a few Marauders era characters, seven of which are women, three of which are OCs. (I had that section written before the discourse started, actually, but I thought it was timely nonetheless.) I know this story so far has been very Marauders-men-heavy, but I promise the women will get their time to shine! Marlene, Dorcas, Mary, Lily, Cass, Keira, and Daphne will all be discussed later on in the story, mostly post-war. I have big plans! I truly love the Marauders era (if you couldn't tell from all of the 70s music and extra conversations with Sirius and Remus that I've thrown into this story) and I am really looking forward to bringing the first-wave-of-war generation and the second-wave-of-war war generation closer together once the war is finally over!

Thank you all for reading, and for being patient with me! Love you!