Wrapped around your fingers
Even when I couldn't help you
And shelter from all fear
We knew we never had
When I saw your eyes tell the story
Words were meaningless

You and I
Left the world behind
You and I
For all we know
It couldn't get better than this

"Better Than This"
CHPTRS

~

LUCY:

I was drowning again. Quite literally, that time.

Cast out at sea. Carried away by my own storm.

Even when I managed to poke my head above the water, rain poured down from above. The clouds made the world so dark it was nearly impossible to see.

There was a storm everywhere I turned. When I was asleep, I was drowning. When I was awake, the storm forced me back under. I didn't want to deal with any of it. I wanted everything to just stop.

The wounded shoulder. Tired of trying to swim. The wounded soldier. Tired of fighting on, tired of carrying on. Tired of the monthly battle that ended in a stalemate at best, a defeat at worst. Or was it the other way around, stalemate at worst, defeat at best?

Where did the metaphor end? Where did the reality begin?

It had been light the first time I had opened my eyes. Fred and George had been there. Everything had been heavy, too heavy. I remembered something about Umbridge, and a lance. Harry had been there, too, and he said it was alright to go back to sleep, so I let the potions pull me back under.

It was dark when I opened my eyes a second time. I was curled in a ball. I wasn't alone. Cedric was there. I didn't need to see him to know he was there. I didn't need to hear his voice either. I could feel him. And if Cedric was there, it would be alright, so I let the potions pull me back under.

Weak morning light filtered through the windows when I opened my eyes a third time. I was more awake this third time. Everything was still heavy, but the potions appeared to be wearing off. My shoulder was throbbing steadily. That pain pounded against the entire upper half of my body and forced me into a heavy sort of alertness, like a beam of light against a thick fog. It was trying to pierce the fog, but it was doing more harm than good.

I must have winced, because there was movement to my right, and a warm and steady hand grabbed my cold one.

It wasn't Cedric.

"Harry?" I managed. I was still curled in a ball, around something warm in my arms. "Where's Ced?"

Harry's face was already pale. It grew even more so as he looked at me with concerned confusion. "He — He isn't here, Lu. I-I'm sorry."

"But I..." I blinked. He was there. I had felt him in the middle of the night. He was still there. I could still feel him.

"Lucy, he... he's..." Harry swallowed hard and reached forward to feel my forehead. "Bloody — I thought — here, Lu, you should take this one."

Harry's warm hand disappeared, and a couple of seconds later, he was holding out a vial with a red potion inside. I pushed myself up to a sitting position using my good arm. As I did, I swayed, but Harry steadied me.

"It's alright," he murmured. "Madam Pomfrey said this one should help with the dizziness, too."

I nodded, taking the vial from his hand. I popped the cork off with one hand — this was a familiar routine, even in that state, perhaps especially in that state — and downed the contents in a couple of swallows. A nasty metallic taste filled my mouth, but Harry was right. Within about ten seconds, I felt less dizzy and less foggy. I stared up at the nearest window as some semblance of myself returned to me.

My breath caught in my throat. "Merlin, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have asked about Cedric."

"It's alright," Harry said, his voice tight. He took the empty vial from my hand and set it on the table beside me. "Are you more steady now?"

I nodded, so Harry eased away from me and pulled up a chair.

Everything flooded back. The ropes. The blood. The aftermath.

Oh. Oh, Merlin. Harry saw the aftermath.

I shuddered. Horrified.

A tempest, all around me. Water threatening to drown me from both above and below.

I was dangerous. I had always been dangerous. And now Harry knew exactly how dangerous I was and always had been.

So why was he still there?

I couldn't bring myself to look at him. I stared up at the window, at the weak sunlight just barely filtering through the clouds. It would have been more appropriate, I thought, for it to be storming outside, the way it was inside. But it wasn't. The world around me was still, in that moment.

But why, how was it still?

"How are you?" Harry asked softly.

I finally met his eyes. "Why are you here? Y-You saw—"

"Where else would I be?"

"Anywhere but here. Harry, you saw everything."

Harry's gaze didn't falter. His answer hadn't changed.

"But... but you..." My voice died in my throat. The storm. The fire. He had seen all of that. "But I'm..." The ropes. The pain. The moment of victory. The blood. The howls, then the screams, then the sobs. "I..." The aftermath. He had seen all of that, too. "Why are you here?"

"I wouldn't be anywhere else, Lucy." Harry shifted a bit in the chair, looking away for a moment as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Please just let me be here with you, since I can't be there with you." He swallowed hard. "I told Cedric I'd take care of you, remember?"

I froze. I had forgotten.

Harry met my eyes again. "So how are you?"

I didn't want to let Harry in. I didn't want him to see any more of my brokenness, because the more brokenness he saw, the more he would feel like he had to fix, and that wasn't fair to him. None of this was fair to him.

But... but it had already happened. Merlin only knew where Hermione's Time-Turner was, and even if I had it, I wouldn't have had the slightest idea how to undo everything that had already been done. The past was in the past. All of it. I couldn't change it.

Merlin, how defeating that felt.

"It hurts," I said finally. "And I'm tired. And..." I tried to take a deep breath, but failed. Breathing too deeply hurt my shoulder. I hissed and squeezed my eyes shut.

Harry jumped up, and the clink of glass informed me he was reaching for another potion.

"I'm fine," I choked out. "No more potions. I'm fine."

"Stop being so bloody stubborn," he muttered.

"Harry, I'm serious—"

"No, you're not."

I opened my eyes again. Harry was standing at the table, hands hovering over the vials, a small, stupid smile on his face.

"Sirius is Sirius. You're Lucy. You're also a git who should really be taking more healing potions now that you're awake."

I closed my eyes and laid back against my pillow with an exasperated sigh. "And you're a prat."

"A prat who happens to care about you, might I add."

"Well, that's not my fault."

"Isn't it?" he replied lightly. "Maybe if you weren't so bloody good at caring about me all the time, I wouldn't care quite so much about you."

"Who said I care about you?" I mumbled, eyes still closed. Everything was getting heavier again. It wasn't getting darker, though. Even with my eyes closed, I could feel the faint rays of the sun. "You're an insufferable git."

"I thought I was a prat today."

"Who said you can't be both?"

"No one, I suppose. If I'm such an insufferable git, why did you shove me out of the way of Alex's rogue Stunning Spell during the last D.A. meeting?"

"I was happy for the excuse to shove you without looking like a prick, of course."

"Of course." Harry was clearly amused by me. It was better than him worrying.

"I'll let it hit you next time, if you'd prefer."

"Well, I don't want you taking care of me if you won't let me take care of you." Glass clinked again, and the weight of Harry settled on my bed. "I do still owe you one for that, though, so just take the bloody potion before I have to find another way to make it up to you."

I cracked an eye open. Surely enough, he was sitting there with an open vial of Wiggenweld Potion, a smirk on his face. A little smirk, a tired smirk, but a smirk nonetheless.

I sighed. "We're even if I take the potion?"

He nodded brightly.

"I don't like this deal."

Harry grew more serious. "I couldn't protect you in there. The least I can do is try to help you after the fact, but I need you to cooperate with me if you want that."

"It's not your job to protect me in there."

"The room clearly didn't do its job, so—"

"It did, I just—" I froze. I shook my head. "I don't want to talk about it, Harry."

What he said was "Alright," but I could tell from the look on his face that not knowing what had happened was killing him. I was right, of course, it wasn't his job to protect me in there. There was nothing he could do once the moon rose. There was nothing anyone could do. But he was right, too. Cedric had wanted him to take care of me. And as much as I hated that, as much as I resented the idea of anyone trying to take care of me... it was what Cedric had wanted. From the look on Harry's face, I knew that it was what he wanted, too.

I would do anything for Harry. It had always been that way. I had said, once upon a time, that the Philosopher's Stone was only the beginning. Twelve-year-old Lucy had no way of knowing how true that statement would be, but it had become more true than anyone could have ever imagined. I would do anything for Harry, even something as loathsome as taking a healing potion even when I didn't want to feel better.

I pushed myself up to a sitting position again with my good arm and accepted the potion.

Only then did I realize my hand was shaking.

Again.

Harry's face fell.

"Neville said the shaking comes and goes," I stammered, "but I didn't think—"

I downed the potion as quickly as I could and set it on the table along with the other empty vials. But instead of lying back down, I rested my forehead against Harry's shoulder and let my eyes sink shut. I was still exhausted.

"I don't want to talk about it."

Harry's hand found mine, and he rubbed his thumb against my knuckles as his answer. Acknowledging it was happening without making it a bigger deal than it was. I appreciated it, though I knew it was surely worrying him.

"I don't want to talk about the full moon either," I whispered, "but I think I am glad you were there yesterday, and that you're here again, and that it's just us, and that..." I hesitated.

"And that what?"

"And that Cedric was here last night, somehow. I-I swear I'm not crazy, I didn't see him or hear him or anything, but I—"

"Oh!" Harry fumbled for his wand. "You're not crazy at all, Lu. I get it now. Accio!"

I turned slightly and opened my eyes as a black and white jumper flew into his hands. I blinked. "Is that...?"

"Cedric's? Yeah. Hermione said even non-magic objects can sometimes function as vehicles for magic if someone magical interacts with it enough. She thinks a bit of Cedric's healing magic is contained in this."

I lifted my head with some effort and reached forward. As soon as my trembling fingertips touched the jumper, the pain eased ever so slightly in my shoulder. I pulled it to my chest and nodded. "This is what I..." I buried my face in it for a moment and lifted my head again. "I must have smelled this and felt his magic and just assumed he was here. I-I guess I was still fairly out of it."

Harry nodded, his eyes soft with understanding sympathy. "It seemed to help yesterday, too. You curled around it as soon as Hermione set it next to you. I think you knocked it onto the ground when you sat up."

"That would explain it," I replied. I held the jumper tighter with my good arm, burying my fingers in the fabric. I looked down at the ground, eyes suddenly filling with tears. I was overwhelmed, all at once, by everything.

Cedric's magic is still alive. My magic is out of control. The magic of the Room of Requirement is insufficient.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Harry asked gently.

I shook my head.

"Do you want to go back to sleep?"

I nodded.

And the boy here with me is the best magic of all.

I rested back against the pillow and curled around Cedric's jumper again. Harry rose to his feet and pulled the blankets tighter around me.

Just before I fell back asleep, Harry's hand grazed my forehead, feeling how warm it was and pushing a lock of hair back in the same motion. "I almost lost you once," he whispered. "Never again, as far as I can help it. Alright?"

I managed the slightest nod, and the darkness pulled me back under.

~

The world continued to turn. The potions wore off bit by bit over the course of the day. Every time I opened my eyes, someone new was there — in addition to Harry, of course.

Late that morning, I opened my eyes to see that Hermione was perched at the foot of my bed with a book while Ron and Harry played wizard's chess with a silencing charm separating us.

Early that afternoon, Ginny was lying in the bed with me, braiding and unbraiding my hair as she whispered to Harry about how she was doing it.

In the middle of that afternoon, my hair was still braided back out of my face, and I could smell cinnamon gum and flowers as my head was periodically poked; I hoped that Parvati and Lavender were chewing the gum and putting the flowers in my hair, but as I drifted off again, I figured that was a "later" problem.

Later that afternoon, Fred and George were plucking the flowers from my hair and charming them to fly into Harry's. He grinned when he saw I was awake, and I smiled back before drifting off again.

It was dark when I opened my eyes again. Henry and Neville were with Harry that time, and I listened as Harry repeated the story about the statues and the lance. It was ridiculous, utterly ridiculous, but then again, so was everything about my sleepwalking resume. I faded in and out until they left. Once it was only Harry left, I mustered up the will to open my eyes all the way.

"It was busy around here today," he said with a small smile. "Madam Pomfrey will kick me out soon, but I'll stay until you fall asleep, just like we did over summer, alright?"

I nodded. I was tired, so tired, but the rain couldn't touch me when I was beneath the waves. I would face the storm come morning.

I was still lying on my right side, Cedric's jumper still there beside me. But I wrestled my right hand free, shaky though it was, and reached for Harry. When our fingers touched, I gave in and let the heaviness take me. I let the current sweep me away. I had once considered Harry to be my lighthouse in the storm, but I realized that wasn't true.

He was in the storm with me. For everything I had tried to do to protect him, to keep him out of it, he was in the storm with me whether I liked it or not. He was there the night in the graveyard. He was there the morning just outside the Room of Requirement. We were tied together, Harry and I, all tangled up like Cedric's jumper in the blankets, whether we liked it or not.

Oddly, I was reminded of Dumbledore that night. Words from when I was twelve, and when I was fifteen. Eons apart, it seemed, lifetimes apart. Yet there they were, at the forefront of my memory.

"In these uncertain times, everybody needs somebody to turn to when the world feels overwhelming. I understand that Harry does not yet trust me as fully as he trusts his friends. As one of his friends, and perhaps as the one who understands young Mr. Potter best, all I ask is that you help him as best you can, whatever may come next."

"You two will understand each other's pain in a way no one else will, as the one who doesn't know life without Cedric and the one who had to see his life end. Help keep each other above water, whatever that looks like as you find yourselves in the depths of grief. As Harry has explained, that was Cedric's final wish, and I happen to think it incredibly wise."

Harry wasn't a lighthouse. He was more like an anchor, or a buoy, or a life preserver.

No. Harry was in a boat, holding his hand out to me. Maybe all I needed to do was take his hand and haul myself into the boat and everything would be better. Or maybe if I hauled myself into the boat, we would both sink. Maybe that was a risk I should take. Maybe that was a risk I should never even consider taking. I wondered what Cedric would want me to do. I wondered what Harry would want me to do.

But all of that could wait until the morning, I decided. For that night, I would simply hold Harry's hand, and catch my breath above the waves while I still could. Everything else could wait until the morning.

~

HARRY:

Early Sunday morning, I jumped out of bed and pulled my robes on, hurrying so I could go down and be with Lucy. There was one small problem when I got down there, though — Lucy was gone.

The Hospital Wing was overrun with Ravenclaws and Slytherins, some groaning, some sleeping, some staring at the ceiling, some vomiting, some laughing. It was a mess.

I was yanked off to the side into what I guessed was Madam Pomfrey's office by Madam Pomfrey herself.

"Your friend Miss Diggory bolted as soon as the first Ravenclaw showed up just after midnight last night," she explained, shoving a bag into my hands. "In there are enough potions to get her through the next few days, along with enough bandages to last her the next two weeks. Tell her to change the bandages twice a day for the first week, once a day for the second week, then to keep applying powdered silver and dittany as necessary if and when it tears since a shoulder injury is likely to experience strain. There's a sling in there too, for the next couple of days. Oh, and she can't change the bandages on her own, she's going to need help, and you know how she is about asking for help."

I nodded, trying to take this all in. "She hates asking for help. Okay, twice a day for a week, once a day for a week, silver and dittany when needed, sling for the next couple of days?"

"That's it. Thank you, Mr. Potter. Now I've got to take care of—" She was interrupted by a gross retching sound. "—that."

"What happened?" I asked, unable to help myself.

Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "Potions and Herbology and alcohol were mixed in a way those three should not be mixed." There was another nasty sound, and Madam Pomfrey rushed out the door.

"Right," I said to myself. I took a moment to collect my thoughts, then tightened my grip on the bag and headed back to my dormitory to fetch the Marauder's Map to locate Lucy.

To my surprise, she wasn't in her dormitory. She was down at Hagrid's.

I tucked the map into my pocket and made my way back down all of the stairs and out into the frigid morning. The snow crunched under my feet — a new layer must have fallen overnight, I reckoned — as the cold wind whipped at my face. This Sunday morning was not off to the start I expected, but it was a start nonetheless.

Eventually, I reached Hagrid's hut and knocked on the door. A cacophony of barks greeted me, and Hagrid opened the door a couple moments later.

"Delivery for Lucy!" I said as cheerfully as I could, setting the bag on the ground as I brushed the snow from my robes.

Lucy looked over at me from her spot on the couch, buried beneath a massive blanket. She looked worse than she had the day before, more lifeless and more withdrawn. "Thanks, Harry," she said, her voice small and shaky.

"'Bout scared me half ter death, she did," Hagrid said. "Looked like death, she did! What did yeh bring?"

"Not entirely sure, Madam Pomfrey just shoved this in my arms and gave me the rundown," I replied. I pointed at Lucy. "You stay there. No getting up."

She nodded and closed her eyes.

Normally, I would be glad she didn't protest, but it felt wrong not to have at least a little bit of resistance. I grabbed the bag and started emptying the contents onto Hagrid's table.

I rattled everything off as I went, since Lucy's eyes were closed. "Enough bandages to last two weeks, a couple of sleeping potions, a couple of healing potions, powdered silver and dittany if it opens again, and a sling for the next couple of days. What sounds good, Lu? Sleeping potions, healing potions?"

"'M fine," she mumbled, not opening her eyes. She shifted on the couch and used her good arm to pull the blanket higher up.

"I tried convincin' her ter go back ter the castle," Hagrid said softly. "I was about ter carry her up there myself before yeh knocked. She keeps mumblin' about storms an' ropes an' boats."

I furrowed my brow. "I know about the storms and ropes, but I don't know about the boats."

Tuck whined and prodded Lucy with his nose, looking at me desperately when she didn't respond.

I hurried over and rested a hand against her forehead. It was clammy. Not a good sign.

"Lu, where's the jumper?" I asked, trying to keep the worried tremble out of my voice. "Is it under the blankets?"

She shook her head.

"Did you leave it in the Hospital Wing?"

She nodded.

"Okay, I'll go get it and be right back," I said. And ask Madam Pomfrey what to do while I'm at it—

But Lucy was shaking her head. "No. Don't."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Cho was the first person to show up," Lucy mumbled, forcing her eyes open with considerable effort. "She has it. Don't take it away from her."

"Lucy—" I inhaled slowly. I was attempting to force away the panic growing in the pit of my stomach. "You stupid self-sacrificing Gryffindor."

The familiar epithet brought the tiniest smile to her face. "You know you love me."

"Of course." I glanced at Hagrid with a What do we do? look. "The Hospital Wing really is full. Lucy's the worst off by far, but with Umbridge around, we can't risk drawing unnecessary attention to her considering the story was dumb and she's... like this."

Hagrid studied Lucy over my shoulder. "She said she came here because she didn' think she could make it up all those stairs ter the Gryffindor common room, so she should probably stay here fer the time bein'."

I nodded. "Right. So, er, let's try the healing potion and see if that helps."

I snagged one of the vials of green potion and lowered myself onto the couch. Fortunately, it was massive, so there was plenty of room for me to sit without hurting her at all.

"Alright, Lu, let's see if you feel better after trying a bit of this."

To my surprise, she didn't protest. She tried to push herself up, but she was unsteady so I quickly maneuvered myself so I was propping her up from behind. I passed her the vial, and once again, she downed a nasty potion with zero hesitation. Part of me was proud of her. Part of me was angry. The fact that she could do something so horrible so unflinchingly solely because she'd done it so many times before... it wasn't fair.

A couple of minutes later, Lucy had fallen asleep again. I erected the same silencing charm we'd been using for two days now and turned to Hagrid.

"Now that she's asleep, I'll carry her up to the Gryffindor tower. It would be easier to keep an eye on her and get her to the Hospital Wing if necessary if she's in the castle."

Hagrid nodded. "I'm glad she trusted me enough to come down here las' night when she was in trouble, but it might not be safe for her, what with Dolores Umbridge sniffin' aroun' everywhere tryin' ter uncover everyone's secrets."

"I don't even want to think about what might happen if she learns Lucy's," I admitted. "I'll be back soon to get the contents of the bag, I'll get her up to the castle first."

With that, I scooped Lucy up — glad that she was exhausted enough to stay asleep through the ordeal — and stepped back out into the morning. I whispered charms left and right to make sure I didn't slip and she wasn't startled awake by any loud noises. Thankfully, the castle was still incredibly quiet since it was early on a weekend.

I had just reached the base of the last flight of stairs when Ginny jumped through the portrait hole.

Her eyes widened. "What happened?"

"Long story," I panted. "Help me get her to her dorm and I'll explain."

"Got it," Ginny replied with a nod. She held the portrait hole open as I climbed through and stood on the stairs as I crept up to her dormitory.

Hermione was already awake too, and her reaction was similar to Ginny's. I silenced her with a look, gesturing to their still-sleeping roommates, and gently placed Lucy on her bed.

The silencing charm cracked into place as soon as I straightened up.

"What happened?" Hermione asked.

"The Hospital Wing got flooded after a party gone wrong last night, so Lucy went all the way down to Hagrid's," I explained.

"She looks worse than she did yesterday," Ginny said.

I groaned. "I know. Madam Pomfrey gave me a bag with everything Lucy will need for the next couple of weeks, that's still down at Hagrid's." I slapped my hand to my forehead. "Bloody hell, her bandages. They need to be changed twice a day for a week, and Lucy can't do it by herself."

"And certainly not while she's asleep," Ginny quipped. "You run down to Hagrid's and get the bag, she keeps bandages in her trunk we can use this morning."

"I hate that she has to do that." I shook my head. "I hate that this is all so normal for her. She's seemed so unfazed."

Hermione sighed. "I know. Trust me, I know. I've watched this for years and it never gets easier. Ginny's right, we can change the bandages while you run down to Hagrid's and grab everything."

"Alright. I'll be back."

I glanced down one last time at Lucy. Her face was pained still, even in sleep. The same way it had been for two days.

"Wait. Harry, where's the jumper?" Ginny asked.

"She gave it to Cho," I replied. Again, pride and anger mingled in me. Lucy was too good for the cruel, cruel hand the world had dealt to her. "Stupid self-sacrificing Gryffindor."

Hermione levelled me with a look. "She reminds me of someone."

"I don't deserve that title. Not the way she does." I shook my head. "I'll be back in a bit."

~

LUCY:

I was no longer in Hagrid's hut when I opened my eyes again. Hermione and Ginny were on either side of me, clearly bickering even though the silencing charm prevented me from hearing any of it.

All I knew was that my shoulder hurt.

A quick slash of Hermione's wand, and the silencing charm cut.

"Sorry, Lucy, it's hard to change shoulder bandages without moving you too much."

I nodded. "It's okay. I understand." I gritted my teeth against the pain and looked down. The scratch still looked awful. I snatched one of the rolls of gauze out of Hermione's hand and let it unravel a bit. I pressed a strip of it to my shoulder and tried to use my chin to keep it in place as I wrapped it, but it didn't work.

"Harry said you can't do it by yourself," Ginny scolded me, reaching forward and using her steady hands to hold it in place. "He'll be back soon, and I doubt you want him seeing how bad this is."

"Right," I whispered.

I didn't try to mess with it again. Ginny was quick and calm with her movements, and Hermione disappeared behind the lid of my trunk. As soon as Ginny pulled my pajama shirt back up over the bandages, Hermione emerged with a familiar yellow and black scarf.

"Harry told us about Cho," she explained quietly. "This was Cedric's, yes?"

I nodded, taking it from her and pulling it close. A steady, comforting warmth trickled into my body, and I felt a bit of my misery trickle out.

"How did you figure this out, Hermione?" I asked. "How did you know this would work?"

"I had a bit of help," she replied, reaching over my head for something. She held out Cedric's dream catcher. "The Ilvermorny sorting system is brilliant, truly. I'll explain more when you're feeling better."

"But for now—" Ginny said. "Rest." She pushed me down, arranged the scarf in a specific way around my injured shoulder, then climbed into bed on my good side. "You're still cold, so I'll keep you warm. And Hermione will let Harry up here, and he'll bring everything from Madam Pomfrey up here, and you'll make it through this day the same way you made it through every other miserable day before this one." Ginny wrapped her arms around my midsection and held tight, burying her head against my good shoulder. "And we'll get you flying again in no time."

~

And this was all great. This was all well and good.

Ginny was right. I was flying again by the end of the week, though Madam Pomfrey would not have approved — I clung to my broom with my legs, swung my bat with my right hand, and kept my left arm in a sling under my robes, but I was doing it. Gin helped me with my bandages before class every morning and before bed every night. She seemed oddly jumpy around me, as if she was afraid I would drop dead at any given moment, but I didn't, so she eventually relaxed a bit and started cracking jokes around me again.

Hermione helped with my notes, since my left arm was in a sling and my right hand was shaking again. Ron developed a habit of heading down to the kitchens for midnight snacks under the guise of having rounds on the nights I couldn't sleep, and he always brought me a slice of toast or two because it was something I could eat even with my shaking. George asked my advice on a particular Weasley product at least three times every day, and Fred made a point of telling me dumb jokes until I eventually gave him a pity laugh.

Harry was more or less attached to my hip — my left hip. He was determined to protect my shoulder from any further injury, and he glared at anyone in the hallways who made fun of the sleepwalking-into-a-lance story. He reminded me about the bandages — as if I could forget — and made sure I had plenty of potions to get me through the day.

And this was all great. This was all well and good.

But, well, I kept everyone at an arms-length, I had to. Metaphorically, of course, since only one of my arms could actually move properly.

I was dangerous. I had always been dangerous. And the full moon had proved that.

If not even the Room of Requirement was enough to contain me, what would be?

While outwardly I was sure to laugh in all the right places and say all of the right words and smile at all the right times and act like everything was as good as it had been in November, my mind grew ever darker. The return of my shaking didn't seem to bode well for me or for my magic. I didn't touch my wand. Madam Pomfrey had given me the sling thinking I would use it for a couple of days, but a couple days became a week. It was safer to be limited like that. I didn't lose control of my magic again, I couldn't. I was terrified of it.

Whispers of running away crept into my mind. I tried not to entertain those thoughts, but they were there. I was dangerous. I had always been dangerous. I would always be dangerous. I was a monster. I had always been a monster. I would always be a monster.

What stopped me? I was never quite sure.

One factor was fear. I knew it was ridiculous to even think about attempting such a stunt. Mad-Eye Moody was my legal guardian, and he had teams upon teams of Aurors at his disposal. The entire Order of the Phoenix, really, had more or less taken guardianship of me, and to try to evade that group of people would be the worst decision I'd ever made in my fifteen years of existence. And I was still haunted by everything that had happened over summer, when I'd disappeared against my will. I couldn't do that to everyone again. Not on purpose.

The biggest factor, however, was love. My friends loved me. The five people who knew the truth stuck close to me. Even people who didn't, such as Henry and Parvati and Neville and Lavender and Archie, were there for me. I couldn't turn my back on all of that.

And yet... the whispers persisted. I was dangerous, I was a monster, and no one's opinion could ever change that. Not even Harry's.

I stayed, though. I stayed. Whispers and all.

Sometimes above the water, in the storm. Sometimes below the water, when the storm was too fierce and I needed the comfort of a semblance of shelter even at the cost of fresh air.

Storms and ropes and boats, Hagrid had explained. I'd been delirious when mumbling about it to him, but I meant every word.

I didn't know if the storm would ever clear. The ropes designed to hold me had been decimated by whatever dangerous magic I contained in my bones. A boat was my only hope, but I didn't dare reach for Harry again.

Storms and ropes and boats. They filled my dreams.

I refused to talk about any of it with anyone. I kept everything close to my heart, where Cedric's scarf was wrapped under my robes, where the bandages were wrapped under the scarf, where the scratch was beneath it all.

Storms and ropes and boats. A story contained in three images.

I wasn't sure if I wanted to see how it ended. But that week, I decided to take comfort in where I was. Where my friends loved me, where I had the sling as an excuse, where everything was slowly returning to business as usual, where there was a more cheerful spirit in the air as Christmas approached.

And as Ginny and I snuck out on Friday night for the first time in two weeks, which was altogether too long, I couldn't help but wonder if it would ever get better than this.