God knows that I've been naïve
But I think it makes Him proud of me
Now it's so hard to separate
My disappointments from His name

Because shadows stretch behind the truth
Where stained glass offers broken clues
And fear ties knots and pulls them tight
It leaves us paralyzed

LUCY:

When I opened my eyes again, the sun was in the sky and I was in my dormitory.

"Oh, good, you're awake. Harry was about to run up here and make sure you were still alive."

"What?" I sat up groggily and turned toward the source of the voice. Lavender and Parvati were giggling as they tightened each other's ties.

"Yeah, he's down there with Hermione now," Lavender said, checking her hair in the mirror one last time. "Anyway, we were just about to wake you ourselves, you should probably get dressed for class."

"Are you feeling alright?" Parvati asked. "Sounds like you had a rough night."

"I, er, I'm fine," I replied as I scrambled out of bed and reached for my school uniform. "When did I, er, get up here? I fell asleep in the common room, I-I think."

"You did. Hermione realized in the middle of the night you never went to bed and ran down to the common room, then a couple of minutes later, Harry carried you up while Hermione stood on the stairs to make sure he didn't tumble down with you in his arms."

I froze. "Wait, you mean he- Harry- he what?"

Lavender smiled impishly. "Yeah, well, we thought it was adorable. After we knew you were okay, of course. Hermione just said you had fallen asleep in the common room and Harry was waiting for a girl to come downstairs to let him bring you up."

"Sounds about right," I mumbled, feeling my cheeks flush. Thank Merlin for Hermione and the lies she can generate on the spot. "Merlin, I am never going to live this down, am I?"

"It was adorable," Parvati reiterated with a smile. "Now go, change, we'll go tell Harry you are in fact alive and on your way."

"Thanks!" I squeaked, ducking into the bathroom to change.

I studied myself in the mirror as I tightened my tie. My face was still bright red.

"You can't just fall asleep on Harry's shoulder," I whispered harshly to myself. "Y-You just can't, it's not fair to him, he's been through even more than you have, you-you have to hold it together for him."

Even as I said it, I was struck with how ridiculous that was. Harry might have shut himself off from me, but as I had proven the night before, I could never do that to him. I had only lasted a couple of days with the barrier in place before something catastrophic happened that made me tear it down and go running back into his arms, which were still open for me. I hoped they always would be.

But what would I have done if he hadn't come down?

I shook my head as I tied off my ponytail.

To try to keep him out is undeniably self-destructive. He knows more about me than anyone else in the world.

I studied myself in the mirror for a second longer. "Why can't you just let him love you?"

I didn't wait for an answer. I knew I didn't have one. Well... not a good one, anyway.

I hurried down to the common room with my bookbag thrown over my shoulder. It was full of fellow Gryffindors heading down to breakfast, but I spotted Harry immediately.

"Sleep well?" he asked with a sincere tone and teasing grin.

"I was rather disoriented waking up this morning," I replied as my cheeks heated, "but yeah, actually, I did."

He grew more serious as we headed down to the Great Hall. "Wait, really?"

I realized that he had kept the nightmares at bay.

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm surprised too."

He half-laughed. "Er, well, brilliant."

"Yeah." Up ahead through the crowd of people filtering into the Great Hall, I spotted platinum blond hair. I recalled with a rush the whole reason the night before had gone so horribly wrong. "Bloody hell, there he is."

Harry followed my gaze and nodded. "Now is as good a time as any, if you're up for it." When I didn't answer, he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. "You alright?"

"No," I replied with an honesty that surprised even myself. Just the same, I tightened my ponytail and squared my shoulders. "But I'd rather know than spend another minute wondering about it, because I've been operating on a worst-case scenario basis for almost three months now and- and-" I faltered, throat constricting at the thought of everything that had gone so horribly wrong in those three months, but I swallowed past the bitterness and sorrow and lifted my chin. "And I'm going to find out what exactly I'm up against."

"You know I- well, we wouldn't let you leave, right?" Harry asked, turning to face me fully.

I bit my lip. "I'd rather it not come to that-"

"But you know we wouldn't let you go anywhere, right?" he asked more urgently. When I hesitated a second longer, he rubbed his jaw. "We wouldn't. Trust me." He held my eyes for another moment, expression unreadable, before glancing over my shoulder. "You'd better catch him now. Do you want me to go with you?"

"No, no, if he knows that you know-" I shook my head vehemently. "I'm not going to tell him that anyone knows. It could put you all in danger too."

Without waiting for a protest, I turned on my heel and wove through the crowd.

"Draco!" I called. When he didn't acknowledge me, I gritted my teeth and switched tactics. "Malfoy!"

That got his attention, and he turned around as if he'd been expecting me.

"Can we talk? Alone? It's about, er, detention."

He smirked and shrugged. "Why not? Let's go."

He peeled himself away from Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherins and gestured for me to follow him into an empty hallway. I felt my heartbeat quicken with each passing moment, but it was too late for me to back down. I needed answers.

Once I confirmed that we were in fact alone, I fixed him with my most intense gaze. "About the note you sent me yesterday... you know, don't you?"

"Know what?"

I bit back a frustrated huff. "I know you know. So why haven't you told everyone yet?"

He leaned up against the wall. "What a fascinating question you've asked. Do you really not have a clue?"

"Please, I don't want to play your games right now, Draco. Why haven't you completely ruined my life yet?"

"I haven't needed to. You've done an excellent job ruining it yourself without my help."

I froze. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Merlin, Diggory, Everlin, Scars, whatever, you should have seen the way everyone looked at you when you threatened me on the train. Poor Longbottom was terrified of you!"

My stomach dropped. I hadn't meant to scare Neville.

"And then within 24 hours, you'd shouted at a teacher and landed yourself in detention," he continued. "You've made it exceptionally easy."

"If I've done such a great job of ruining my own life, why'd you get me another detention?"

He smiled. "If that's your biggest concern, I can go tell Umbridge right now-"

"No!" I swallowed my panic back. "No, no, don't, it-it's fine."

His smile widened. "I haven't needed to ruin your life yet. Try not to give me a reason. For now, I'm satisfied with the detentions to remind you what you are: a monster and a liar." He puffed his chest a bit. "I, on the other hand, am a prefect and the son of one of the most respected members of the Ministry. It's not like we've ever been on equal footing, now, has it?"

I shook my head, unable to find the words to reply properly.

"As long as you remember that, I think this could stay our little secret, don't you think?"

"Sure," I managed after a moment.

Malfoy raised his eyebrows at me. "I will say, Diggory, Everlin, Scars, whatever... you're a hell of a good liar. Better than I would have thought possible for someone like you."

I huffed a humorless laugh. "I don't know if you mean that as a compliment, but considering my life literally depends on my ability to keep a secret-" I laughed again, shaking my head. I trembled with the rage I was barely holding back. "For what it's worth, you're a great liar, too, landing me in detention for something I didn't even do."

"Would you have done it, though?" Oddly enough, I didn't see malice in his eyes in that moment. Just genuine curiosity and amusement. "Would you actually have attacked me?"

"No." I shook my head. "No, I wouldn't have. I was plenty angry, sure, but contrary to popular belief, I'd rather not hurt anyone else if I can help it, since sometimes I physically can't help it."

"Have you ever hurt anyone?"

Again. Curiosity. No more amusement.

I shook my head. "Of course not. I'm too careful for that." I adjusted my bag on my shoulder. "Just so we're clear... I don't give you a reason to ruin my life, you keep the secret to yourself?"

Malfoy smirked. "Works for me."

"And I know you'll keep your word because...?"

"Because my father wants me to. You never know when you'll need a favor from someone. Besides, I won't be able to properly compare you to Cedric after another two years have gone by-"

I sucked in a sharp breath, glaring as his smirk deepened, and turned on my heel before he could see the tears in my eyes.

HARRY:

Malfoy appeared first, alone, and a familiar flicker of fear sparked to life in the pit of my stomach. I was about to jump up and find Lucy when she appeared, her face discolored. I couldn't say she was pale or she was flushed, because she was somehow both simultaneously — I could just tell from a single glance that she felt terrible and not in the slightest bit relieved, the way I hoped she'd be.

My optimism had not been rewarded. But then again, had my optimism ever been rewarded?

"She looks horrible," Ginny commented, earning herself a swat on the arm from Hermione. "What? Leaving it unsaid doesn't make it untrue."

"Merlin, remind me what day it is?" Lucy asked with a sigh as she slid in between the twins.

"Thursday," George answered. He looked concerned as he turned to her. "Are you feeling alright?"

She nodded, reaching for a piece of toast for the first time at breakfast since before the full moon. "I'm alright. I just didn't sleep well two nights ago then slept surprisingly well last night, so the past few days have been a blur." She sighed. "Bloody hell, Saturday is really two whole days away?"

"Yeah, sorry, Cub," Fred replied.

I caught Lucy's eye, asking an unspoken question, but she shook her head subtly. I understood it to mean I'll tell you later.

Fortunately, our first class of the day was History of Magic, so the two of us had plenty of time to talk in hushed whispers — we weren't terribly interested in the Medieval Assembly of European Wizards, no offense to Professor Binns. Come to think of it, Lucy wasn't even European, technically speaking.

Merlin, this will certainly take a while to truly grasp. How did Lucy manage without falling apart two years ago, when she was figuring this all out for herself?

I almost asked her, but then I remembered Malfoy.

"So why has he kept it a secret?" I asked under my breath.

"A couple of reasons," she replied after a moment. "First he told me it's because I've done a decent job ruining my life without his help-" Anger surged in me. What happened to Lucy wasn't her fault. "-but toward the end, when I asked how I could trust him to actually keep my secret, he mentioned that his father wanted him to keep it secret for now because, and I quote, 'you never know when you'll need a favor from someone.'"

"What favor could Malfoy possibly need from you? And, even more importantly, why does he think you would owe him one? And, wait, why does he think you'd actually do him a favor in the first place?"

Lucy winced.

"Sorry," I said quickly, "that was a lot all at once. I'm just trying to understand."

"I know." Lucy nodded and sighed. "I don't know what he could want from me. He thinks I owe him one because he's currently keeping my secret, one that could ruin my life if it got out."

"Why does he think you'd do him a favor after all of the times he's gone out of his way to hurt you?"

She cocked her head, as if it should be obvious. "Because he's keeping my secret."

"So? You don't owe him anything, Lucy, not after everything he's done to you."

"He's keeping my secret," she said again, slowly, deliberately.

"I know," I replied in the same tone. "You don't owe him anything."

"You don't understand," she muttered, looking back up toward the front of the room, as if the conversation was over.

"No, Lu, I think you're the one who doesn't understand," I pressed in an urgent whisper. "You were the same way this morning when I mentioned the way we wouldn't let you leave. What is it that you don't understand about just how much you're worth to the people who care about you?"

Lucy stiffened.

Did I finally get through to her? I wondered to myself. I bit my lip. Or did I make it worse? Was I too harsh? I didn't mean to be, I just don't understand how she can't see-

"I don't want to leave," she whispered after a moment, her voice strained. She still didn't look at me. "But I don't want to put anyone in danger either."

"You're not dangerous, Lu," I said, intentionally making my voice more gentle. I found her knee with mine under the table. "Did Malfoy say you were? Because if he did-"

"Can we talk about this later?" she asked, turning to me just long enough to let me see the tears.

"Of course," I whispered right away. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's not you," she interrupted. "It's not your fault. I-I'm just..." She leaned back against her chair and rubbed the back of her neck. "It's not your fault." She reached for her quill and started scribbling down the notes on the blackboard.

That, I realized, was the true end of the conversation.

But in the end, such tired words will rest
The truth will reroute the narrow things they've said
The marionette strings will lower and untie
And out of the ashes, love will be realized

LUCY:

Harry and I didn't get another chance to talk uninterrupted and alone until after his detention that night. The one good night of sleep had finally reset my sleep schedule, so I wasn't as tired as I had been the night before. The common room slowly emptied as I held a textbook with my uninjured hand and soaked my injured one in the essence of murtlap. When Harry finally came through the portrait hole and collapsed into the chair perpendicular to mine, I pushed the other bowl in his direction, closed my book, and laid my head on top of it.

"Are you doing alright?" I asked, knowing the answer but wanting to ask anyway.

He dipped his bleeding hand into the bowl and nodded. "Better now."

I nodded in response.

He cracked a smile as the book moved along with my head. "Tired?"

"Mmm." I considered my answer for a moment. "Yes, but not really in a way sleep can fix."

His smile faded slowly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." I lifted my head and glanced at my hand, still in the bowl it had been in for hours. I pulled it out and flexed my fingers a couple of times. "No matter how long I soak this, it still hurts when I pull it out."

"But it will heal eventually," Harry said.

I nodded, looking down. "And when it does, I'll have to go back and carve it in again."

"And it will heal again."

"I know it will, but..."

"But what?"

I didn't answer. I just stared at my mess of a hand, a couple of thoughts lurking in the darkest corners of my mind.

"But what, Lu?"

I inhaled slowly, exhaling even more slowly. "Wouldn't it just be easier if it all stopped? If I could just push it all down and pick it all back up again when I'm ready?" I hazarded a glance at Harry. I don't know what I hoped to see, but what I saw was a gentle, if fearful, curiosity. He didn't speak, leaving room in the silence for me to go on. So I did. "I don't think I'm ready to heal yet."

A flash of alarm. Still he didn't speak. He left room for me in the silence.

I had always confined myself to corners and window seats, hidden behind closed doors and in darkness. I hated taking up more space than I thought I was worth.

But there he was, creating silence he intended for me to fill.

Like I was worth that space.

I drew a shaky breath. "I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Because I know everyone's just waiting for me to feel better again," I whispered. "I know everything would be so much easier for everyone if I could just stop shaking and act like everything's fine, because it's not like there's anything I can do to change what's already happened, the damage is done-"

"Hey," he interrupted gently, nudging my foot with his under the table. His voice shook the slightest bit. His face was pale. He was shaken by my confession. He was trying to stay steady for me. Part of me appreciated that because I knew he meant well; part of me wanted him to let me see exactly how he was feeling so I didn't have to sit here wondering if I had hurt him more than he wanted to let on. "Of course we want you to feel better again, but none of us want you to feel like you have to pretend for our sakes. I mean, Merlin, Lu, after everything, it's okay. More than okay. As long as you don't give up," he added with a searching look.

I nodded, glancing down as I felt tears once again shoot to my eyes. "I-I'm just tired."

"I know." He nudged my foot again, and I looked back up at him. His expression somehow grew even more sorrowful, which made me feel even worse, and I couldn't blink back the tears fast enough. He looked like he was searching for something to say but coming up empty.

I couldn't blame him. I wouldn't have known what to say to me either.

I crossed my arms on the table and laid my head in the crook of my elbow. The storm raged. Each raindrop that fell carried with it something more threatening. Whispers of the darkest corners of my soul, the parts that had become bitter, the parts that had become cynical, the parts that he become nihilistic, the parts that seemed to say "You are nothing, nothing but a monster," the parts that seemed to say "You deserve nothing and no one," the parts that wanted me to let it hurt and never heal, the parts that wanted me to give up.

Harry's chair scraped a bit against the hardwood floor, and half a second later, his hand was on my shoulder, his thumb drawing small circles over the thin white stripes of scars that hid just beneath my robes.

Just like that, it was like he had stepped up next to me with an umbrella.

For a moment, the thoughts couldn't touch me.

Still the storm raged. But just like that, for a moment, I was safe anyway.

God knows that we've been naïve
And a bit nearsighted to say the least
It's broken glass at children's feet
That gets swept aside unexpectedly

"Naïve"
Sleeping At Last