HARRY:

Every day that week leading up to the full moon, I learned something new.

On Monday, I learned that the fever starts early.

We waited until we got back to the common room to tell Hermione and Ron about what had happened. The common room was empty, a welcome sight. They, of course, wanted me to tell Dumbledore, but I adamantly refused. Once they realized they weren't going to convince me, the two headed up to bed, but rather than following Hermione, Lucy made her way over to the window seat in silence, having not spoken a word since we returned. I slid in next to her, the two of us a tighter fit than ever.

With only me around, it seemed to me she dropped her guard a bit. She pulled her hair free of its ponytail so it cascaded around her shoulders and rested her chin in her hand as she stared out at the stars. Her eyes were troubled, no doubt about it.

"What's on your mind?" I asked quietly after a moment.

She didn't look at me as she replied. "It's just... whether I fight or not, something bad happens. I fight Umbridge, I get detention. I don't fight Draco, I'm told I'm a liar and I still get detention. Mum fought, and she died. Dad didn't, and he died. Cedric didn't do anything wrong, nothing at all, and he... he... he still..." She sighed and shook her head, blinking back tears. "So, I guess what's on my mind is, well... what's the point of any of this? What's to stop me from just... I don't know..." This time, she couldn't blink quickly enough, and a tear slipped down her cheek. "I just want my brother back."

Her lower lip trembled, and I reached out, anticipating the sob. She buried her head against me, crying quietly but shaking violently.

"My hand really hurts," she managed after a while. "I have high pain tolerance, Harry, but this is... it hurts so much. It r-reminds me of first year, b-but this time, there's... there's no Cedric t-to..."

She pulled her still-bleeding hand out of the little ball she had created, and I got a good look at it for the first time. It was... a disaster.

I had half a mind to march her straight to Madam Pomfrey, pay Dumbledore a visit on the way, and not leave until her hand stopped bleeding and Umbridge was on her way to Azkaban. Did I deserve the scar on the back of my hand? Maybe. I hadn't lied, but... Lucy? Lucy, who had never hurt a soul? She didn't deserve it, not at all.

Rage surged in me.

This isn't fair.

Lucy deserves better.

"Do you want to go to the Hospital Wing?" I asked. "I'll go with you."

She didn't answer, instead burying her face against me. I could suddenly feel even through my robes how warm her forehead was. I panicked initially, then remembered.

Right. Werewolf. Full moon on Saturday.

But Merlin. It's only Monday.

I grazed her forehead with my fingers. It was warm, no doubt about it.

"This is nothing," she replied softly as if she had read my mind.

"It's not nothing," I insisted. "Lucy, it's only Monday and you're already-"

"Just give it a couple days," she muttered. "Just... give it a couple days. It gets worse."

She lifted her head to look at me. Something had changed in her expression. I couldn't place it, but it was there.

She jumped up from the window seat as if she'd been electrocuted.

Her voice was dull and her eyes even duller as she looked at me. "This is nothing new. I've been doing this for almost ten years now. I'm fine." She started to cross her arms, but something about the way she shifted her hand made her wince. She marched over to the couch and kicked it, pacing back and forth and kicking it again, clearly in pain. She made a strangled sound of frustration and clutched her hand, bouncing on her toes a couple of times. "The monster always fights its way out in the end. There's nothing anyone can do to stop it. Bloody hell, my hand hurts-" She kicked the couch a third time, and I jumped up before she could kick the couch a fourth time.

I gripped her shoulders. "Lucy, come on, let's go to the Hospital Wing. Obviously it hurts, I'm sure she could make it better-"

"No!" She wrenched herself free, shaking her head. "I said I'm fine."

"Yeah, obviously," I huffed. "I'm not stupid."

"Neither am I." Lucy took a shaky breath through her nose, something flickering across her eyes briefly before dying again. She took another breath and took a step back from me. "There's nothing that could make me feel better right now. The wound is cursed, I already tried healing it the first time. Madam Pomfrey told me not to do anything that would get me hurt, and she's worried enough about me as is, everyone is, so I'd rather not go to the Hospital Wing and give her even more reason to worry." She took another step back, her eyes still expressionless. Her voice was a whisper as she started talking about the lycanthropy. "There's nothing that can stop the moon, Harry. Saturday will come no matter what anyone does. The fever's already started, then tomorrow my hands won't stop shaking, then over the next couple of days, the fever will get worse and worse and I'll start turning red from head to toe because of how hot it burns. I'm already hungry, and that will just get worse and worse too. Then I'll be restless, I won't be able to sleep, I won't be able to sit still. And that's not even the worst of it, Harry. Then, after that, everything will be too loud, too bright, too much. It will get worse and worse until Saturday, and then the monster comes out for a night, and then afterward, when morning comes again... nothing. All of that energy, all of that fire, gone. I'll be freezing, I'll be exhausted, I'll be miserable." She shook her head, stepping back again. "Then after a couple of days, it will be like nothing ever happened, until a couple weeks later, when it all starts again. But there's nothing that can make it better, nothing that can stop it." She took another step back. "I... I should go to bed. Sleep while I still can. Good night, Harry."

She turned on her heel and started to walk away, and for a second, I remained rooted to the ground, still trying to make sense of everything she'd just told me.

"Lu, wait."

Lucy paused, partially turning around. "Mhm?"

I opened my mouth and tried to think of something to say, but nothing intelligent came to mind. So instead, I said, "I'll see you in the morning, right?"

She hesitated just a moment before nodding. "Of course," she replied after another moment's hesitation. "Good night."

"Good night, Lu."

She headed up to her dormitory then, and I remained where I was standing for quite a while that night.

On Monday, I learned that the fever starts early, and so much more.

On Tuesday, I learned the extent to which Lucy's hearing was heightened.

I wanted to make her smile, so I tried to make light of it.

I dropped my voice as low as I could in History of Magic. "Lu, is this a... you-know-what... talent of yours? Hearing me right now?"

She nodded.

"That's wicked. Because I can barely hear myself right now."

"I can hear you loud and clear," she mouthed back. Then she whispered, "I whispered that last sentence. Did you hear it?"

I stifled a laugh. "No, I didn't. I thought you just mouthed it to me."

The tips of her ears turned red, but she finally smiled, just the slightest bit.

On Wednesday, I learned that hearing wasn't the only sense that was heightened.

At breakfast, she suddenly sat ramrod straight, glancing around the room.

"What is it, Lu?" I asked. "Everything okay?"

She didn't answer, her eyes flitting back and forth across the room wildly until they landed on something over my shoulder. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she swore under her breath before ducking out of the Great Hall.

"I'll go," I said to the group at large, jumping up to follow her.

She had already reached the bridge on the other side of the courtyard by the time I caught up to her, staring out at the drop below.

"'M fine, Harry," she said without turning toward me.

"I still don't believe you, and- wait, how did you know it was me?" I stepped up next to her. "Never mind, not important. What's wrong?"

"I just..." She dragged her sleeve down her face. "I think Henry was wearing something of Cedric's today. It wouldn't surprise me if their clothes got mixed up from time to time, being best friends and roommates and all, sometimes Hermione's ties and whatnot end up in my trunk and vice versa, but I could smell Cedric for just a second and- and-"

"Lucy, breathe," I said.

She did. "Sorry," she whispered after a moment.

"What? Why? You didn't do anything wrong."

She didn't reply.

"You didn't do anything wrong," I repeated.

"I'm going to go see if Professor Grubbly-Plank needs help setting up today's lesson," she said in response. "If the others ask where I went, I forgot to feed Tuck this morning."

"Lucy-"

"Please?" She turned to me desperately, ponytail swishing behind her because of how quick the motion was. "Harry, I make up stories all the time to keep my secret, please just tell everyone I ran off because I forgot to feed Tuck. I don't want everyone worrying about me."

I relented against my better judgement. "Alright."

She relaxed slightly. "Thanks, Harry."

I nodded. "Do you want me to go with you?"

"No, you need to eat breakfast." With that, she turned on her heel and practically jogged in the direction of Hagrid's hut.

"So do you," I said quietly as she rounded the corner and disappeared from view.

I wondered if she had heard me with those ears of hers as I turned and headed back to the Great Hall.

On Thursday, I learned that the homorphus charm didn't really cure lycanthrophy.

In the middle of an exceedingly boring DADA class with Umbridge, I remembered the DADA lesson second year where Lockhart had me recreate the scene from his book where he — or whoever had actually done it — turned the werewolf back into a man permanently with the charm. As soon as we were free, I turned to Lucy, whose cheeks at that point had taken on a reddish tinge that refused to leave, just as she had said on Monday.

"I have a random question for you, if you want to take a walk before dinner."

"What about?" she asked, eyeing me warily.

"The homorphus charm," I replied in a voice I knew only she would be able to hear.

"Doesn't work."

"What do you mean?"

"Lockhart was more than a fraud. It can work, but it's not permanent. Not to mention it's nearly impossible." She shook her head. "People have tried it with me. Never works."

I felt a surge of frustration. "Does anything work?"

Lucy shook her head, sighing. "No cure, Harry. Don't even bother. I'm hopeless."

Then she started walking twice as fast and lost herself in the crowd. I tried to catch up, but she vanished.

"Just let her go, mate," Ron said from behind me, having seen the entire thing. "I couldn't hear what you two were talking about, but it looks like she'd rather be alone."

"She shouldn't be alo-"

"She won't be. She just ran straight into Henry, and it looks like he's noticed something's up. She's in good hands." He studied me for a second. "You know you don't have to try to save her all by yourself, right?"

"Yeah, well, I made a promise to Cedric, and I intend to keep it." I followed in Lucy's footsteps and stalked away from Ron, frustration still burning in the pit of my stomach.

The full moon was coming, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Just like she said.

Just a couple months ago, I'd teased her for her optimism. I had no idea at the time just how hard-fought that optimism was.

On Friday, I learned that she meant what she said about the shaking getting worse.

She shook badly enough when it wasn't the day before the full moon, because of what had happened to her over summer.

But even in Charms, her best class, she couldn't perform the magic.

She was sitting with me to her right and Neville to her left, so at least she was between the only two students at Hogwarts who knew what had happened to her — I knew Neville didn't know why, but he knew what. But that didn't make her feel any better.

"This bloody wand doesn't understand me," she hissed, knuckles white with how hard she was gripping it. "Why is it that the wand I stole from a Death Eater and used once performed better magic than this one?"

Neville and I exchanged a brief glance before turning back to her. She hadn't noticed a thing, as she was still glaring at the wand she was now holding with both hands. But even with both hands, the wand shook so violently one would have thought there was an earthquake occurring beneath Lucy and only Lucy.

She sighed and set the wand down, dragging her hand down her face.

"I bloody hate this," she whispered, and she didn't speak again the rest of the day.

On Saturday, I learned just how high the fever climbed.

It was frightening.

I made my way down to the common room early on Saturday so I could write a letter to Sirius about my scar hurting and head up to the Owlery without having to worry about being seen (or bothered) by anyone. I grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill and slipped down the stairs.

The common room was empty except for Lucy. She was kneeling in front of the fire and holding out a piece of parchment. The flames slowly licked up the sides, and she didn't drop it until the last second, just before it singed her fingers.

"What was that?"

She whirled around, and I could tell from her bloodshot eyes and damp cheeks she had been crying all night long.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," I said quickly.

"It's okay," she replied, shaking her head and trying in vain to dry her face, but tears were still shining in her eyes and slipping down her cheeks.

I immediately hopped over the back of the couch and patted the spot next to me. "C'mere. You look like you haven't slept all night."

"'Cause I haven't." She pushed herself to her feet and collapsed next to me.

"Oh, Merlin," I said before I could stop myself. The heat of the fever was radiating off of her, as if my own personal fire had just taken the seat beside me.

"Hm?"

I pressed a hand to her forehead. "Lucy, how are you even-"

"Alive? I don't know. Happens every month, though, so..." She adjusted slightly on the couch and tightened the bandage around her hand. I could tell the fever was getting to her, because she loosened and tightened the bandage five times in a row the exact same way, eyes somewhat glazed over, still sniffling after crying for so long. She stopped suddenly and looked at me. "Wait, why are you up so early?"

"I was going to write to Sirius to tell him about my scar hurting. D'you want to head down to the Owlery with me once I'm done?"

She nodded, shifting her position again so she was sitting sideways with her head against the back of the couch. "Cool morning air is nice."

She didn't say anything else, so I started writing my letter to Sirius, careful not to move too much once I realized Lucy had fallen asleep.

Dear Snuffles,
   Hope you're okay, the first week back here's been terrible, I'm really glad it's the weekend.
   We've got a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Umbridge. She's nearly as nice as your mum. I'm writing because that thing I wrote to you about last summer happened again earlier this week after Lucy and I did a detention with Umbridge.
   We're all missing our biggest friend, we hope he'll be back soon.
   Please write back quickly.
      Best, Harry

I read the letter, then read it again, then read it again. I knew I had to be vague — I hoped I had been vague enough to not be understood by outsiders, but not so vague Sirius couldn't understand. Once I was satisfied, I folded it in half, still careful not to move too much. Lucy needed the sleep.

But even the soft sound of me folding the paper had woken her up, which was odd considering how hard it had been to wake her up in June. Merlin. June felt like so long ago.

"Ready to take it to the Owlery?" she asked sleepily.

I nodded. "Nice nap?"

She swatted my arm in response, which was the liveliest she'd been all week. So, naturally, I egged her on a bit more, trying to lure her out of her shell a bit more.

"But was it?"

"C'mon, let's get that cool morning air we've discussed," she replied, dragging her sleeve across her face.

I felt her forehead again once we were both standing. "Merlin."

"Yeah, see what I meant on Monday?"

I nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. I do."

We climbed through the portrait hole and made our way down to the Owlery. About halfway down, Mrs. Norris appeared in front of us, then started to turn around as if she were reporting to Filch.

"I'm not doing anything wrong," I said loudly, but she didn't turn around again. I shook my head. "Is nothing going right today?"

"Welcome to my world," Lucy muttered in response. She stopped and hissed suddenly, hands flying over her face.

"You alright?" I asked, skidding to a stop.

She nodded. "Sensitive eyes. Sunbeam hit me just right. Merlin."

"You could keep your eyes closed. You sleepwalk around often enough, don't you?" She snorted, and I grinned. "I'm only partially joking."

"Yeah, I know you are." She lowered her hands, squinting. "Alright, I'm good."

We made it the rest of the way down to the Owlery in silence. It wasn't awkward or uncomfortable in the slightest; quite the contrary, after how, well, loud the year had been so far, the silence was refreshing.

The second we entered the Owlery, the silence ended. Birds swooped back and forth, hooting loudly, feathers falling in all directions. I headed to the window where Hedwig was, and Lucy headed in the opposite direction to check on Malachi.

Hedwig alighted on my shoulder, and I passed her the letter. "Right, I know this says 'Snuffles' on the outside, but it's for Sirius, okay?"

She blinked, and I chose to interpret that as "Got it!"

"Have a safe flight, then," I said as she took off into the sky. I watched as she disappeared, then glanced over at Hagrid's cabin. It was so obviously empty. Merlin, I miss him.

Before I could think on this more, I saw a thestral appear suddenly above the trees, its skeletal wings silhouetted against the hillsides. I turned around to ask Lucy if she had seen it, too, but at that moment, the Owlery door opened, and Cho walked in, carrying a letter and a small package.

"Hi," I said.

"Oh, hi. I didn't think anyone would be up here this early. I only remembered five minutes ago, it's my mum's birthday."

"Right." I scrambled for something to say. The best I could manage was "Nice day."

She looked around for an owl as she replied. "Yeah. Good Quidditch conditions. I haven't been out all week, have you?"

"Yeah, a bit," I replied.

"Hey, has Gryffindor got a new Keeper yet?" she asked as she tied her parcel and letter to a school owl's leg.

"Yeah. It's my friend Ron Weasley, d'you know him?"

"The Tornado-hater? Is he any good?"

"Yeah, I think so. We've been practicing together this past week. I didn't see his tryout, though, I was in detention."

She froze suddenly, glancing up at me with her hair falling in her eyes a bit. "That Umbridge woman's foul. Putting you in detention just because you told the truth about how — how — how he died. Everyone heard about it, it was all over the school. You were really brave standing up to her like that."

A strange fluttering sensation filled me then. The fact that she thought I was brave. I thought about showing off my scarred hand as I helped her tie the parcel to the owl, but the door banged open before I got the chance.

Filch marched over to us, red in the face and glaring at me. "Aha! I've had a tip-off that you are intending to place a massive order for Dungbombs!"

I crossed my arms. "Who told you I was ordering Dungbombs?"

"I have my sources. Now hand over whatever it is you're sending."

"I can't, it's gone," I replied calmly.

"Gone?"

"Gone."

He seemed to be at a loss for a second, mouthing angry words that never made it past his lips. Finally he managed, "How do I know you haven't got it in your pocket?"

"Because-"

"I saw him send it," Cho snapped, glaring at Filch.

"You saw him?"

"That's right, I saw him."

After a long moment of the two glaring at each other, Filch stomped over to the door.

"If I get so much as a whiff of a Dungbomb!" he said threateningly as he made his way down the stairs.

I glanced at Cho, who was tying the strings to the owl's leg as if nothing had happened.

"Thanks," I said, a rush of relief coursing through me. The last thing I needed was more trouble that week.

"No problem. You weren't ordering Dungbombs, were you?"

I shook my head. "No."

"I wonder why he thought you were, then?"

"Beats me," I replied with a shrug. That seemed rather inconsequential, really, with Cho standing so close to me, not hating me for living, thinking I was brave for standing up to Umbridge. I watched as she walked over to a window and let the owl fly from her arm, black hair shining in the sunlight-

"I'm going to go feed Tuck, but wish Ron and Katie luck at practice for me," a soft voice said behind me.

I jumped and whirled around to face Lucy. I'd forgotten she was there.

Cho seemed to have not noticed she was there. Lucy must have been somewhat hidden behind the door when Cho walked in.

"Oh, hi Lucy," she said, her voice trembling suddenly.

Lucy nodded. "Hi." She rubbed the back of her neck, flushing an even deeper shade of red. She glanced back at me. "I-I'll go now. I'm sorry. I'll see you later, Harry."

With that, she turned on her heel and passed through the open door, her footsteps echoing down the stairs.

Cho sniffled behind me, and I turned around.

"Cho, you — are you alright?" I asked, somewhat unnerved by the tears suddenly streaming down her cheeks.

"She just looks so much like him," she whispered. "It's the eyes. I..." Cho cut herself off, blinking a couple of times as if to reset. "Are you heading back to the castle?"

I nodded. "Walk with me?"

"Alright," she replied, her voice cracking.

Silent tears continued to flow down her face as we walked in silence back to the castle. I wanted to try to say something that would make her feel better, but I was at a loss. I didn't know how to help her the way I knew how to help Lucy. Cho was more difficult.

We parted ways at the Great Hall when she headed in the direction of her common room instead, after a friend of hers had appeared. The friend gave me an accusing look, as if it were my fault Cho was crying. I elected to ignore it and headed into the Great Hall, overall feeling rather pleased with how the conversation had gone, at least at first. She thought I was brave. She stood up to Filch for me.

"Morning," I said with a smile as I sat next to Ron.

"What are you looking so pleased about?" he asked suspiciously.

"Erm... Quidditch later."

"Oh. Right." Ron looked across the table, then turned back to me. "Where's Lucy? We thought she'd be with you."

"She went down to Hagrid's to feed Tuck," I explained. "She said she wasn't hungry."

"She did?" Hermione asked, head snapping up to face me.

Then I realized my mistake.

It was the full moon. She would be starving, according to what she had explained on Monday. There was no way she wasn't hungry.

And on top of that, she was never supposed to be alone.

"I'll go check on her," I said as I jumped up from the table and hurried from the Great Hall. I jogged all the way down to Hagrid's hut, beating myself up with every step.

She's never supposed to be alone.

I pushed the door open without knocking.

She glanced up and immediately shielded her eyes. "Harry? What're you doing?"

"Merlin, sorry, didn't realize how bright that'd be," I muttered, slamming the door shut behind me.

"It's alright, you're new to this." She lowered her arm, still eyeing me warily. "What're you doing here? I thought you were walking back with Cho."

"I was. Well, I did. I just..." Does she know she isn't supposed to be alone? What if she thinks I see it as a chore? I don't, really, I just want her to be safe- "I thought you might want help."

"Oh." She glanced down, and I realized exactly how stupid that reason was. Tuck had made himself very comfortable nestled in her crossed legs, and Fang's head was on her knee because she was scratching him behind the ears. She didn't need help. "I think I've got it handled for today, but thanks, Harry."

"Right," I said, feeling even more ridiculous.

"Though," she added quietly, "if you do want to help, would you please remind me to feed them tomorrow morning? I can be... forgetful. Afterwards. I'm so tired afterwards."

"I'll feed them tomorrow," I replied. "Don't worry about it."

"Are you sure? I don't mind."

I nodded. "Positive."

"Thanks, Harry." She leaned back against Hagrid's couch and sighed. "I might stay here all day. It's dark, and quiet, and no one would bother me."

"Except for me, of course," I replied, crossing my arms and leaning against the door. "Because I'm not about to leave you here, alone, all day."

"You have Quidditch practice, though," she said.

"I'll get Hermione to come bother you while I'm at practice. I reckon she'd be less bothersome than the twins."

"I don't need to be bothered."

"You don't need to be alone, either. Would you rather I bother you?"

"You don't bother me."

We held each other's eyes for a long moment, something unspoken happening between the two of us that I wouldn't have been able to articulate even if I tried. Then she blinked, and I blinked, and it was gone.

"Besides," I said, trying to keep the conversation moving, "you're hungry, aren't you, today being what it is? Would you like being bothered if it meant someone bringing you food?"

"You drive a hard bargain," she replied as she glanced away. Her voice was tight and quiet again.

She really doesn't like talking about it, I realized.

"It's a deal then." I tried to keep my tone light. "I'll get Hermione to bother you during practice, then I'll bother you until sunset."

Lucy sighed, but a small smile toyed with the corners of her mouth. "Fine."

It was nice, really, that afternoon with Lucy in Hagrid's hut. It would have been too dark in there to see homework, if we had wanted to do it in the first place, so instead, we forgot about homework, and watched Tuck and Fang play, and talked in low voices about anything that would take her mind off of the full moon.

It was nice, so naturally, it had to end. As the sky started to turn pink, she closed her eyes and groaned, the groan ending in a high-pitched sound of frustration and desperation and resignation.

"I don't want to have to go," she whispered, eyes still closed. "But I know I have to."

She pushed herself to her feet, and I followed suit.

"Off to the Room of Requirement," she said.

"Where's that?"

"You can follow if you want. Hermione does sometimes. Cedric does — d-did — too."

I nodded. "You don't have to be alone."

She nodded in response, carefully avoiding my eyes as we slipped from the hut and headed up to the castle. We walked in silence up flight after flight of stairs until we reached a door I had never seen before.

"This is it," Lucy whispered, still not meeting my gaze. "See you in the morning."

She turned toward the door, but something flashed in me, and my hand shot forward for her wrist.

"Be careful, alright?" I asked, all of the fear I'd been burying for over a week now surging to the surface. What was about to happen was dangerous for her, so dangerous. I'd seen Professor Lupin's scars, I'd seen his transformation, I'd seen how horrible it was. The thought of Lucy going through the same exact horror, with nothing I could do to help...

Her eyes softened, and it looked for a second as if she might cry. "Harry, I have no control. I forget who I am. I forget everything."

"Just try then? Please? For me?"

She nodded slowly, removing her wrist from my group and resting her hand on the handle. "I'll see you in the morning."

"See you in the morning," I replied. She disappeared behind the door with a swish of her ponytail, and just like that, I was alone.

And so was she.

A/N: I'm so sorry this update was later than usual! I have been drowning in homework — almost literally. I have cried so many tears of frustration this week over homework. BUT, that being said, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! This story continues to be a bright spot in my life, and I always look forward to reading everyone's super sweet comments. Thank you for always being so supportive. You're the best.

I hope you all have a great rest of your week, and I'll see you all on Saturday with Chapter 111!